#Glass Star Trilogy

[glow1228aura]

it’s giving: he’s right behind me isn’t he

[leahikol]

I drew Thrawn, again

[trooperst-3v3]

I meant glasses for drinking. These have a really fancy engraving on them.

Oh, that coukd be cool. What kind of engravings?

You'll want to get glasses that don't break easily, though. Millicent loves knocking things off tables.

[noblebynura]

Threads of Nyx Trilogy Part i: Somewhere, The Stars Remembered

Part ii: I, carrion.

Part iii: Son of Nyx (Aug, 2nd. 10pm GMT)

Pairing: Earth-828 Johnny Storm x Witch!Earth-616 Reader Synopsis: It was supposed to be an escape, a world secret to only you, but someone made you want to stay. Genre & warnings: SPOILER FREE!! Fluff to angst(what more do I write?), nothing else other than, get your tissues ready I guess? I'm sorry. Word count: 4.6k | masterlist

a/n: There are SPOILERS for the end credit scenes of Thunderbolts* and possibly F4:FS in the comments so don't open comments okay!!

You were never supposed to stay. Not in Earth-828. Not with him.

But it started with a flicker of curiosity.

The multiverse was a door you had no business knocking on, but ever since the battle with Thanos and the rise and fall of Wanda Maximoff, you'd learned that sometimes, doors knock back.

Under the watchful eye of Doctor Strange, you were training — closely monitored, conditionally trusted. You had power not unlike America Chavez: rare, unpredictable, and intimately tied to the fabric of the multiverse. He didn’t say it outright, but you knew he feared it. So you studied, meditated, restrained.

But restlessness bloomed in your bones.

One quiet evening, Strange gone to Kamar-Taj for a summit, you were left alone in the Sanctum Sanctorum’s vast, humming library. You had promised to only review sanctioned texts — tomes already vetted, cleared, catalogued. Instead, you reached for the ones above, the ones behind silent sigils and whispered warnings.

You found the book buried in the lower archives of the Sanctum — a dusty thing about frequency planes and interdimensional pressure points. You didn’t even cast anything major. Just a ripple. A whisper of your power. And the portal bloomed before you like a tear in space, glowing soft around the edges.

Earth-828. But you didn’t know that at the time. All you knew that, it was somewhere new.

You stepped through.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

The first few times were quick. You slipped through the cracks with spells of cloaking and silence, walking among the chrome-lined streets and glowing glass towers. There was something poetic about it — the way neon met vintage, the way people dressed like retro comics but lived in buildings that pulsed with energy. It felt like a postcard, like a dream painted in old film colors.

You stayed invisible — literally. Your aura cloaked you naturally when you traveled between dimensions, a safety mechanism born of your power. You wandered quietly, just observing. A few minutes. Then you’d return.

But the rip hadn’t gone unnoticed.

His sensors picked up on your interdimensional signature, but Reed couldn’t track it to a fixed location. Your presence was too light, your signature too fleeting. But still, they knew someone or something, was coming through. There was a shimmer in the air every time you crossed over, like static, like a breath held too long. Reed couldn’t see you, but he felt your presence. And after the fifth crossing, he sent Johnny Storm to find you.

Reed Richards never cared much for names. Not the kind that came from different Earths or slipped between dimensions. So when his instruments began detecting flickers of destabilizing energy — spikes in multiversal frequency along the edge of Manhattan’s skyline. He didn’t ask who. He only asked how soon it could be shut down.

He had always theorized the multiverse. He had written about it in dusty old journals and modeled it in quantum projections no one else dared attempt. But theories were safer than proof. The truth was… Reed was afraid. Afraid that if even one hole opened, others would follow. And this Earth, this version, was stable. He would not risk it.

So when you showed up, a flicker in a courtyard, a blip on his carefully tuned sensors, Reed’s first instinct wasn’t wonder. It was containment.

He didn’t know your name. Didn’t know you came from a place of battle and blood and loss, a girl shaped by war and trying to find joy again. All he knew was that your presence sent his equilibrium readings spiraling.

He called it an anomaly. A threat. An intrusion.

But later, Johnny called it you.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

It was raining the night you met him.

The sky of Earth-828 didn’t fall with gray, but amber and pink — like an old oil painting melting. You wore the hood of your cloak up, casting a quiet veil spell around you, walking along the edge of a rooftop garden three blocks from the Baxter Building. That’s when the sky flared.

He came streaking through the sky in a blaze of gold and fire, trailing heat and a whoop of glee. Your breath caught.

He landed with a thud beside you, flame licking off his body like a living sun, eyes locked on you beneath the soft veil of your invisibility.

“I know you’re there,” he said, voice casual, but sharp with curiosity. “Your magic’s cool and all, but it doesn’t bend light like you think.”

You froze.

He took a step forward, flame receding slightly, revealing his boyish grin and sun-kissed hair still ruffled from the wind.

“You’re the anomaly,” he said. “Been chasing your signature for days.”

You let the veil drop.

He blinked. “Whoa.”

“Sorry,” you murmured, already raising your hand to summon a portal back. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No, wait.” His eyes scanned you — not in suspicion, but fascination.

“Where are you from?”

You didn’t answer.

“You gonna run?”

“No.”

“Good,” he said, folding his arms. “I hate when the pretty ones vanish on me.”

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t walk away. He captivated you. This was worth exploring more.

That was the first time.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

Johnny didn’t go back to the Building right away that day.

He flew for a while — long loops above the skyline, fire trailing behind him like a comet tail. He needed to burn the adrenaline out of his system. Because he’d found you. You weren’t a rift or a monster. You were just a girl.

And that meant Reed didn’t need to know.

A girl wasn't a threat.

When he finally touched down at the Baxter Building, Reed was waiting in the lab, hunched over a floating matrix of dimensional readings.

“Well?” Reed asked without looking up. “Did you find the source?”

Johnny hesitated. “Nothing. Just a weird heat signature — old flare activity from the skyline. Your sensors probably ghosted.”

Reed frowned. “Unlikely.”

Johnny shrugged. “Or maybe you’re finally slipping. Want me to call Sue for a second opinion?”

Reed gave him a look, but didn’t argue. “I’ll recalibrate the harmonic receivers. Maybe I missed a background echo.”

Johnny exhaled as casually as he could. “You do that.”

He left the lab and ducked into his room, heart hammering. He’d just lied to the smartest man on Earth. But he didn’t feel guilty. Not really.

Because you weren’t a threat.

You were... real. And kind. And a little sad in a way that made him want to set things on fire until you smiled again.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

The days after bled into each other like the warm tones of Earth-828’s sky. You kept returning — not just for the city now, but for him. He met you at rooftops, fire escapes, quiet corners of the park where kids weren’t flying drones but kites. He brought you coffee once, said he figured out your favorite blend. He guessed right.

Johnny talked a lot. But with you, he listened more. He told you about flying, about Reed’s endless tests, about feeling like everyone thought he was just the showoff. And you told him about your Earth, about Strange (but not everything), about feeling like a passenger in your own life sometimes.

“You’re not just a passenger,” he said once, eyes soft. “You’re the one driving the damn ship.”

You laughed. “Is that a space metaphor?”

“Obviously,” he smirked. “I’m a rocket man, remember?”

You learned to stop being afraid of how quickly you started to care.

He touched your wrist when he laughed. His thumb would brush yours when he handed you things. Once, he tried to mimic your cloaking ability by hiding behind a lamppost and pretending no one could see him.

You laughed so hard your sides ached.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

The night nearing the fall, he took you to the observatory above the Baxter Building. The cautiousness of being detected was forgotten. Reed didn’t find you this long now so you let your guard down. You stood beneath the stars, his jacket draped over your shoulders. He didn’t need it. You did.

“I know Reed wouldn’t be okay with this,” he said quietly. “But I don’t care.”

“I know Strange would be furious,” you replied. “But I can’t stop coming here.”

He looked at you then, something sharp and raw behind his eyes.

“Then don’t,” he said.

And he kissed you.

It was soft. Careful. Like he didn’t want to scare you. But the second you leaned in, his hand rose to your cheek, thumb tracing your jaw, and it deepened into something real — something warm. You felt fire beneath his skin, but he held it back.

You kissed him like you were writing your name on this version of Earth.

But the stars do not wait for mortals. No matter how beautiful they were twinkling light years away, they still carry the cruel fate of destruction.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

Back home, Reed’s algorithms kept humming. He adjusted his models, tweaked his code, even brought in Valeria to double-check a few strands of multiversal math. Johnny listened from the hallway. He always knew when Reed was getting close — the more agitated he got, the closer he was to truth.

So Johnny started sneaking glances at the terminal, memorizing numbers, checking the threshold charts for multiversal interference. Every time the graphs started to spike, Johnny would time his next visit with you just a little sooner. Just a little longer.

Every trip was a gamble.

But worth it.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

The courtyard was quiet at night, the kind of quiet that wrapped itself around you and muffled your thoughts into stillness. It's some sort of a routine now that you meet him at night. You walked slowly, hands tucked into your sleeves as the Baxter Building loomed above, windows dimmed except for one or two lab lights still glowing far up in the structure. You didn’t need to check to know one of them was Johnny’s.

You’d been careful. Always arriving when the world slowed down — past midnight, when Earth-828 seemed to sleep differently than your own. The air here always smelled faintly of something older. Analog. Less touched by the neon-hum of your Earth-616. The cars were heavier, the buildings boxier, but the sky… the sky was the same.

He was waiting for you beneath the skeletal shadow of a rust-covered sculpture in the courtyard. The moon cast soft light along the square tiles, bathing his blonde hair in silver, firelight dancing in the planes of his face as he fiddled with something in his hands.

“You’re not invisible this time,” Johnny teased.

You gave him a tired smile. “Felt safe.”

He stepped closer, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. “So, I’ve been working on something.”

From behind his back, he pulled out a small clunky device, silver and glass, glowing with soft green light. You raised a brow.

“What is that?”

“Dimensional field dampener. Sort of. It masks the frequency spikes you make when you open a portal. Doesn’t stop you, but makes it harder for guys like Reed to notice.”

You blinked, stunned. “You made me a magic cloak?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. Kinda nerdy.”

You took it gently, thumbing the smooth edge. “I love nerdy.”

And you meant it.

He just watched you, quiet for a beat, eyes catching yours like a pull. “I don’t want to stop seeing you.”

“I don’t want to stop either.”

There was a moment of pause as agreement was made between the space of your bodies. Checking whether the universe would reject your appeal or not.

“Can I kiss you?” You blurted out suddenly. 

There was a breath of silence. Then a laugh, short and disbelieving, before he stepped forward and brought his hand to your jaw, cradling it like it was something delicate. As if you were a hologram in front of him. If he stepped in the wrong way your projection would disappear.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

His lips met yours like gravity — not rushed, not greedy, just inevitable. The warmth of him poured into you, like he carried the sun in his chest and was willing to let it spill, just this once. You melted into him, anchoring yourself in his jacket, the heat of his touch grounding you.

And the world narrowed. There was only this kiss. This moment. This boy from another Earth who had flames at his fingertips and the stars in his eyes.

When he pulled back, he didn’t let go of you. His forehead rested against yours, breath mingling in the sliver of space between you.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, so quiet it barely made it through the cool air. “You know that, right?”

You opened your eyes slowly, meeting his. “I’m starting to believe it.”

You both stood there for a moment, suspended in that quiet warmth, in the feel of belonging that didn’t make sense but it did in your own little secret bubble.

Above you, the moon bared witness to your actions. No matter how damning to the timeline it was.

And somewhere far above the atmosphere, beyond even Johnny’s reach, Reed’s sensors began to flare with renewed urgency. A spike in dimensional energy. A rupture, faint but growing. Something strange in the air.

But down here in the courtyard, it was just you and him.

You dropped your head onto his shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. “Tell me about space,” you whispered. “What’s it really like?” You’ve been to space before. It was just a curiosity to hear him say it. Maybe his space was different from yours?

He hummed, his arm circling your back. “Lonely. Beautiful. Cold. There’s this… silence that’s different. It’s not empty, just vast. Like everything is still listening. And there’s this feeling, when you look at Earth from that far away… like you understand how small everything really is. And how lucky we are.”

You closed your eyes. “I’d like to see yours one day.”

He smiled into your hair. “I’d take you there. If I could.”

Neither of you spoke for a while after that. You just sat, side by side on the edge of the stone planter, legs bumping, hands brushing, wrapped in the glow of something soft and unspeakable.

But above, invisible and unnoticed, the air was rippling. Like the fabric of this world was breathing wrong.

Like something, or someone, was looking for you.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

Meanwhile, in Earth-616…

The Sanctum Sanctorum had grown… quieter.

Not in sound, but in magic. A kind of lull — an odd hush that settled in the corners of spellwork and seeped beneath the wards. At first, Strange didn’t notice. Your aura, cloaked in careful, deliberate shielding, wove itself neatly between the cracks of his attention. You were clever. And more importantly, cautious.

Too cautious.

You still trained every morning. You still studied, asked questions, meditated with a kind of intensity that masked the restlessness under your skin. You never raised suspicion. You never stepped wrong.

But the magic, your magic, left traces, even when cloaked. The moment you stepped out of this Earth’s frequency, you created a tension. A distortion. A soft pull, like someone plucking a single string out of tune in the Loom of time.

He ignored it the first few times.

Strange had grown used to the occasional ripple. The multiverse never sat still, not anymore. And you… you were still grieving. Still healing. He chalked it up to emotional fluctuation. Restlessness. You were young, and the cost of power was always weighty.

But then, around the second week, the distortion sharpened.

Not loud. Not chaotic. Just present, like a tick in the corner of his eye. You'd disappear for an hour. Two. Sometimes three. And when he searched, there was nothing. Not even a blink of magic left behind.

At first, he doubted himself.

He checked the wards. The shields. Even the Sanctum’s heart, where the echoes of other realms occasionally whispered. But there was nothing. You had hidden your trail with frightening precision.

Until you didn’t.

The moment came quietly.

Strange sat in his study, the Book of Vishanti open in front of him. The pages began to flutter — not from wind, but from a pulse. One that didn’t belong to this world. He reached toward the page meant to monitor multiversal tension and watched as a single glyph, a line of balance, quivered. Just once. Like a skipped heartbeat.

Then another ripple followed.

Not subtle this time. Not quiet. It roared.

A tether. Thin but intimate — stretched across the void.

You. He knew it instantly.

And whoever stood at the other end... wasn’t of this Earth.

He closed his eyes, reached inward, and followed the magic like smoke in reverse. When he found the thread you left behind, embedded deep in the weave of your own power, he saw it.

A courtyard, bathed in low moonlight. A strange skyline — not 616.

And you.

Smiling like he hadn’t seen in months. Laughing in a way that felt unfamiliar. Happy.

And beside you stood a young man with fire woven into his very being. His fingers brushed your cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world.

That was all it took.

Strange inhaled sharply, the spell snapping in his palm.

You had fallen in love.

Across dimensions. Behind his back. Using a power you didn’t fully understand.

He stood. Anger wasn’t the first thing he felt.

Fear was.

Fear that you would lose yourself, not just to emotion, but to the unraveling consequences of what this meant. Fear that he'd seen this before. That he’d already failed once.

He remembered Wanda. Her desperation. Her pain. Her delusions of control.

He wouldn’t lose another.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

The glow from Johnny’s makeshift field dampener flickered quietly between you both. It cast faint rings of light in the courtyard — like a ward against time itself. It was working. It was shrouding your presence in an invisible dome of frequency altering waves. 

You stayed there for a while that night. Long enough that your breath slowed in rhythm with his. Long enough that you forgot how wrong this all was.

“I don’t want to go back tonight,” you murmured.

Johnny looked over, his thumb brushing your knuckles. “Then don’t.”

You smiled faintly, leaning your head back against his shoulder. “You don’t understand. He’s going to find me. Eventually. I don’t know how I’ve gotten this far without being caught.”

He stilled for a second, then squeezed your hand. “You’re good at hiding.”

You didn’t dare answer.

Your pulse ticked uneasily. You didn’t want to say it aloud, but you felt it. A tension. An invisible tug on the air, like something far away was waking up.

Your eyes lifted to the dark sky — and for the first time, it didn’t feel like peace. It felt like a countdown.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

A floor above, in the Baxter Building’s observatory, Reed Richards stood stiffly behind a console, his fingers flying over glowing panels.

The readings didn’t lie. The interdimensional signature had spiked again — stronger than before. Centered just beneath them.

“No more guesses,” Reed said sharply into the comms. “I want a location. Johnny’s there again, isn’t he?”

Ben’s voice crackled through. “Yeah. Courtyard.”

Reed’s mouth tightened. He knew.

ִ⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

Back in the courtyard, you felt it a heartbeat before you saw it — like the crack of static inside your chest.

A snap — the ripple of fabric tearing.

The air split above the grass behind you, light spiraling outward in a vertical slash. A portal. Familiar. Too familiar.

You were on your feet instantly. “No—”

Out stepped Stephen Strange, cloak billowing, eyes dark with fury.

His voice was quiet, but it carried like a thunderclap.

“I told you not to touch the multiverse.”

Johnny stepped in front of you instinctively, protectively. “Who the hell are you?”

“Johnny—” you warned.

Strange didn’t answer Johnny. His gaze pinned you. “You crossed worlds. You lied. You hid from me.” His voice threatened to lose control in anger. Rising in volume as he closes to you. 

Your chest burned. “You locked me in that old building alone. You kept me from even understanding what I could do—”

“For good reason,” Strange snapped, stepping forward. “Do you know how thin the line is between you and what Wanda did? Do you remember what she became?”

“I’m not Wanda!”

“But you could be.”

That silenced you. He didn’t shout. He didn’t need to.

And you hated that your heart twisted because part of you believed him.

Johnny looked between you both, confused and angry. “She didn’t hurt anyone. She was just—exploring—”

Strange shot him a look. “You think this is about hurting people? It’s about unraveling them.”

You flinched. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“I know.” His voice softened, just for a moment. “But you have it. And you’re not ready.”

“That was all you ever say to me.”

A glow gathered at his fingertips.

“Don’t,” you whispered.

“I have to.”

“Johnny—” you turned to him, panicked, reaching for his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

He held your hand tighter. “I know.”

But the moment broke. A crack of gold light spiraled outward. Strange lifted his hand, and the cuffs snapped into place around your wrists.

You gasped as the energy flickered through you, your power dimming in an instant. The bond to the multiverse—cut. Just like that.

“Stephen!” you shouted. “Please!”

“You’re grounded,” Strange said simply. “You don’t touch this universe again.”

You twisted, eyes locked with Johnny’s, even as the world behind you spun and the air split into a recall portal.

He stepped forward. “Wait!”

But it was too late.

The last thing you saw was his hand reaching for you.

And then the world went white.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

Back in Earth-616, the Sanctum Sanctorum felt like a cage.

The ancient walls creaked under silence. The usual hum of arcane wards now pulsed louder in your ears, like they knew what you’d done. A thousand hidden sigils glowed faintly in the corners, reacting to your presence, or maybe warning the house to keep you still.

The magical cuffs around your wrists were cold. Not just in temperature, but in what they meant. Powerless. Bound. Caught.

You’d paced the room for hours, feet scuffing against the floor, your mind spiraling. Johnny’s name still echoed in your chest like a song you weren’t ready to forget.

When the Sanctum doors finally opened, you didn’t turn. You knew the sound of Strange’s footsteps.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there behind you, cloak rustling faintly with his breath.

You could feel the disappointment bleeding off him like a curse.

“I believed in you,” he said at last.

His voice was quiet. Not scolding. But it hit harder than a scream.

You didn’t turn around.

“I believed you wanted to learn. To understand your gift. I didn’t think you’d betray that trust.”

You bit your lip, jaw tight. “You mean you didn’t think I’d outgrow your leash.”

Silence.

Then a sigh. Exhausted. Hurt.

“You lied to me.”

Your voice came out hollow. “You lied first.”

That stung. You finally turned around, meeting his eyes. There was a flicker of guilt there, buried beneath the control.

He looked older tonight. Worn.

“I kept things from you,” he admitted. “Because I’ve seen what happens when people like us… chase after what we want instead of what’s safe.”

You stepped forward, slow and deliberate, your cuffed hands hang heavy in front of you, “This isn’t about safety. This is about fear.”

Strange’s jaw clenched. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I do,” you said, eyes locked on his. “You’re scared I’ll become another Wanda. Another fracture in your perfect little order. And you didn’t trust me enough to believe I wouldn’t.”

His silence said enough.

You swallowed back the lump in your throat. “You never believed in me, Stephen. Just in your ability to control me.”

Something flickered in his gaze, regret, maybe.

Or shame.

“This isn’t about punishment,” he said quietly.

“Then what is it?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the floor like the words were stuck in his chest.

“It’s about not watching another gifted, powerful person lose themselves to want.”

You blinked. Hard. “Is that what you think I did?”

He looked up. “Didn’t you?”

Your shoulders sagged. You felt the ache spread in your chest like frost.

“I didn’t go there to tear space apart,” you said. “I went because… I met someone who made me feel like I wasn’t dangerous. Like I was real.”

Strange said nothing.

“I wasn’t destroying the universe,” you whispered. “I was falling in love.”

You saw it. The way his expression cracked for half a second. A flash of emotion. Not anger. But something sadder.

“I miss him,” you added, voice thin. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

You turned your face to the side, jaw clenched, trying not to cry.

Strange shifted his weight. When he finally spoke again, it was quiet. So quiet it barely reached you.

“Love doesn’t justify breaking the universe.”

You laughed. Bitter and empty. “Is that what this is to you? A breach protocol?”

“I saw what happened when Wanda reached across dimensions for love,” he said firmly. “She burned everything.”

You spun around. “I’m not her.”

“I know,” he said. “But you’re closer to that line than you realize.”

You held up your bound wrists. “So this is it? You’re locking me down? Is that how you love your students now?”

“I’m protecting you.”

“No,” you said, stepping toward him, voice rising. “You’re afraid of me.”

He didn’t deny it.

He just said, again, quieter this time, more final.

“You’re grounded.”

The words cut through the room like a curse. Simple. Final. Inevitable.

You stared at him, breathing hard.

“You don’t get to make that choice for me.”

“I just did.”

You turned away, chest shaking with silent sobs. You wanted to scream, but there was no point. Your power was gone. Your freedom gone. Your heart was somewhere in a different universe.

And all Strange could offer was a cell with velvet curtains.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

He left after that.

Didn’t slam the door. Didn’t raise his voice. Just walked away like it hurt him to stay.

The Sanctum was quiet again.

Too quiet.

And you stood alone in the middle of a glowing sigil meant to keep you safe.

It felt a lot more like a prison.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

Meanwhile, back in Earth-828, the Baxter Building was anything but calm.

Johnny stormed into the lab, fury written across his face. “You knew.”

Reed looked up slowly. “I suspected.”

“You let her get ripped out of here like she was some mistake—”

“She was a mistake,” Reed said coldly. “Her being here was a violation of everything we’ve worked to stabilize. She risked the entire equilibrium of our universe.”

“She’s not some monster.”

“She’s a threat.”

“She’s more than her power!” Johnny shouted. “And she trusted me.”

Reed didn’t blink. “Then she made two mistakes.”

Johnny’s jaw clenched.

“You should be grateful she was taken,” Reed added. “It could’ve been far worse.”

But Johnny didn’t feel grateful. He felt hollow.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

And so time passed. Not weeks. Just days.

But it was enough.

You didn’t go back.

He didn’t reach out. Not that he could.

And neither of you said goodbye.

But maybe this is how it had to end.

A moment out of time.

A version of love that only existed between worlds.

Somewhere, the stars still shone the same in both skies.

And somewhere, the stars remembered. 

a/n: Hi there! Part 2 is in the works upon an anon request! How would you like me to continue this? Because I can always make it more..... depressing or something else you guys want it to be!

[fandom]

Books

Huge congrats to The Iliad. It's only taken 3,000 years. This list is brought to you by Tor Publishing Group, which you're probably familiar with, given what tops the list this year.

The Locked Tomb series +3 by Tamsyn Muir

The Percy Jackson & the Olympians series -1 by Rick Riordan

The Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling

The Six of Crows duology +3 by Leigh Bardugo

Dracula -3 by Bram Stoker

The Warrior Cats series -1 by Erin Hunter

A Song of Ice and Fire -1 by George R. R. Martin

The All for the Game series by Nora Sakavic

The Discworld series +7 by Terry Pratchett

A Court of Thorns and Roses series +3 by Sarah J. Maas

The Silmarillion -1 by J. R. R. Tolkien

Pride And Prejudice -3 by Jane Austen

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

The Raven Cycle series +3 by Maggie Stiefvater

The Sun and the Star by Rick Riordan & Mark Oshiro

The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice

Wings Of Fire +9 by Tui T. Sutherland

The Secret History -7 by Donna Tartt

The Trials of Apollo series -4 by Rick Riordan

The Iliad +10 by Homer

The Odyssey +24 by Homer

The Folk in the Air series -8 by Holly Black

The Animorphs series +5 by K. A. Applegate

The Stormlight Archive +8 by Brandon Sanderson

Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney

Moby Dick +24 by Herman Melville

1984 +6 by George Orwell

Fables by Bill Willingham

The Diaries of Franz Kafka by Franz Kafka

The Song of Achilles -10 by Madeline Miller

The Last Hours series by Cassandra Clare

The Simon Snow series -10 by Rainbow Rowell

The Throne of Glass series +13 by Sarah J. Maas

Nimona by ND Stevenson

Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard +6 by Rick Riordan

The Bell Jar -15 by Sylvia Plath

The Dreamer trilogy +6 by Maggie Stiefvater

The Shadowhunter Chronicles -15 by Cassandra Clare

The Mistborn series by Brandon Sanderson

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone

Captive Prince -1 by C. S. Pacat

The Twilight Saga -7 by Stephanie Meyer

The Sandman by Neil Gaiman

The Deltora Quest series by Jennifer Rowe

Romeo and Juliet -8 by William Shakespeare

The Far Side by Gary Larson

Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde +2 by Robert Lewis Stevenson

Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson

The Picture of Dorian Gray -31 by Oscar Wilde

Good Omens by Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman

The number in italics indicates how many spots a title moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded titles weren’t on the list last year.

[ofmermaidstories]

SUMMARY: The call to be a Pro Hero has never been a question—not for Katsuki Bakugou, explosive and guarded, nor for Izuku Midoriya, protective and determined, and certainly not for Shouto Todoroki, who’s family legacy hangs over him like a shadow. Years after the War that upended Hero Society, these three men have helped rebuild a path to Pro Heroism for the next generation, tentatively heralding a new era of hope. But there’s danger lurking in this rebuilt world, danger that has the power to rekindle old fears and usher in new resentments, and as the trio branch out to find and end these threats, they each encounter a new challenge along the way—colliding with someone unexpected, and falling in love.

(A Pro Hero x Reader Trilogy; in which falling in love is a random chance all at once chaotic and exhilarating and incredible, for each of the Big Three)

The premise is simple: three heroes, three fics, and three different lives to live. Named for the Katy Perry song, The One That Got Away, the In Another Life trilogy was originally intended to be a series of five stand-alone fics that evolved, fairly quickly, into what we have today: three interconnected stories that let our Reader-inserts move throughout the My Hero Academia world, and eventually find where—and who with—they belong.

Started in 2020 when the manga was still on-going, the fics have diverged from the canon Horikoshi’s given us both in small and large ways. Despite where they separate (and where the fics have to stay faithful to their own canon, now), it’s always been my hope that they read like the love letters they are—to My Hero, to the boys, and to x reader fic at large.

i’m running to your side—flying my white flag

1. surrender (whenever you’re ready) [Explicit] — ao3

93k+

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

COMPLETED ✔️

SUMMARY: You first meet Ground Zero when he's thrown, unceremoniously, through the glass window of your florist shop.

(In which Bakugou cannot stand flowers but finds himself coming back, anyway)

i’ve been reading books of old—the legends and the myths

2. something (just like this) [Explicit] — ao3

203k+

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

COMPLETED ✔️

SUMMARY: It probably says a lot about you that your first thought on meeting Deku, international Symbol of Peace, isn't something like "Oh, wow," or, "Oh he's so nice," but is instead the un-Plus Ultra thought of, "I definitely would've bullied him, in high school."

At least until those muscles came in.

(In which Midoriya is an absolute nerd for the release of his own hero-inspired comic book series—and the artist responsible for it)

all your flaws and scars are mine

3. still (falling for you) [Explicit] — ao3

TDB

Shouto Todoroki x Reader

WIP 🕙

SUMMARY: The first time you and Shouto cross paths, he nearly drowns you.

(In which Todoroki meets a jeweller by the sea, and learns the difference between the value of the lessons he's been given—and the precious things he chooses to keep)

🚧 UNDER CONSTRUCTION 🚧

i am actively adding to and editing this section, still. if you think something is missing, or you have something you’d like included, please let me know!!! i am going through all the posts and links i do have, manually, so i may still miss something and would love a gentle reminder. 🌷

🚧 🏗️ 🧱🔨🔧🪛 🚧

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] do u think bakugou ever gets so angry his mouth misses [Readers] when they’re making out?

Katsuki’s home for once, sleeping off the last few days in the darkness of his room, cocooned.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] what type of jewellery would Bakugou gift [Reader], if any at all?

The first gift Katsuki gives you after Christmas is a pocket knife.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] merms, what are bakugou and weeds up to this christmas? :)

Katsuki wakes up before his alarm, before the sun rises—the city spread out beyond his bedroom windows like a carpet of stars.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] i miss weeds and katsuki so much 😭😭

It will be proper twilight, when they leave together; Weed's hand in the crook of his arm.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] how are weeds and katsuki?

It’s a Wednesday, a normal day, and they are figuring it out.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] petition for you to write [Reader sending] bakugou horny tweets

light it up like an ELECTRIC STRIKE ⚡️: please please PLEASE Kacchan has blocked me and muted the groupchat PLEASE, I need him to see this, please just send him this ONE THING, PLEASE!!!!!

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] would [it] be important to bakugou for [his parents and weeds] to meet?

Masaru will just scratch the side of his nose under his glasses and think about a younger Mitsuki, who literally would not take no for an answer from him—and a younger Katsuki, who had the same laser-focus when it came to the things he wanted in his life.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] i am asking for royal au + florist au for [weeds/bakugou]

In his armour still, his forest-green cape, Ser Bakugou is dressed for war—solid and imposing as he stands on your threshold.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SJLT] what does [Reader] post [to instagram]? + [SWYR] things weeds would post

The one consistent has been art, good, bad and middling.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [IAL] it’s so cute that SWYR’s reader is a fan of SJLT’s comic

Kacchan has never asked for anything from Izuku—beyond that he doesn’t look down on him (beyond that Izuku live).

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] katsuki keeps a pot of strawberries for you in his kitchen;

When they finally fruit he’s disgruntled.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] katsuki’s quieter than usual

So you wait. You let him have his silence, and you fill the space around it with your own presence.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] he tells me he’s gentle when he wants to be—

The bed dipping under Katsuki’s weight wakes you.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] you and bakugou walk home in the rain

“Y’re meant to go home, dipshit,” he says, disapproving

[DRABBLE 📖] [SJLT] bad touch (you and me)

Minoru’s skeleton nearly fists itself out of his asshole when a voice behind him says, “That was a kindness you just did, for Midoriya.”

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] if you were to write surrender today, do you think anything would change?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] what would have been the moment bakugou knew he had it bad for surrender's reader?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] what do weeds and bakugou fight about? and how do they apologise?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] do you think bakugou ever feels like weeds would be better off without him? :(

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] have you ever written/imagined Kirishima’s POV [throughout the fic]?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] how does bakugou and haru’s relationship progress?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] idk if you meant her to come off in this way, but [Reader] strikes me as [lonely]

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] i’m literally going to throw up from excitement if you actually make a bakuweeds oneshot collection

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] i am vibrating in my boots with excitement about the [SWYR] one-shot series!

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] did you have any inspiration for the kimono Reader is wearing in SJLT?

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] looking forward to our [gala] wear

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] could we have visuals of Reader’s outfits during the gala?

[ASK ❔] [IAL] double dates

[ASK ❔] [IAL] what city/prefecture does [the series] take place in?

[ASK ❔] [IAL] how [would] the Y/Ns react to fanfic about their heroes?

[PODFIC 🎙️] [SWYR] surrender (whenever you’re ready) — narrated by Chthonianqueen

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SWYR] surrender (whenever you’re ready) [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SWYR] and i’d give up forever to touch you: a suggested-songs playlist [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SJLT] something (just like this) [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SJLT] like lightning: a suggested-songs playlist [plays on spotify]

[ART ✏️] [IAL] bakugou & weeds, deku and & scribbles & bakugou/weeds, deku/scribbles, monoma/reader — by @groshia

[ART ✏️] [SJLT] you get to witness, in real time, as [Deku] leaps from the now open door — by @getstarried

[ART ✏️] [SJLT] izuku, just izuku. just as he is — by @handlethegbread

[ART ✏️] [SWYR] when you’re bakugou katsuki, — by @okeydokiescribbles

[ART ✏️] [SWYR] haru + the flower shop signs

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] the moodboard trend inspired me to make this little thing

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] SJLT is my all-time favourite fanfic,

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] this is just […] a collection of things that reminded me of this story

[BINDING 📚] surrender & the widening sky — @ladybirdk

[BINDING 📚] surrender (whenever you’re ready) — @/captain-liar

[PODCAST 🎙️] Canonically Incorrect, episode 75, season 2: Surrender (Whenever You’re Ready) — 10 December, 2022

[ spotify | apple ]

[PERMISSION STATEMENT:] You are more than welcome to print out any of the fics and bind yourself a copy for personal use, or otherwise record a [non-AI] reading of them, or translate into another language—as long as my ao3 username, OfMermaids, is credited somewhere as having written it. 🥹📚 I also love, love seeing and hearing about the work that goes into the pieces you create for yourselves, so if you’re comfortable with it, I’d love to see a picture of (or get a link to!) your efforts!!

final note:

This series is the result of several years worth of love and work, and most importantly, encouragement from the people who have come along and read the stories in it. Whether this is your first time discovering the trilogy, or you’re otherwise revisiting the boys, this is a note to say thank-you for being here. Thank-you for reading, and for being apart of something that has been so much fun to create. Fandom and fanfiction has always been about sharing the excitement with other people—so thank-you for letting me share mine with you. 🌷📖

[treeteaofversailles]

Le Masterlist :3

(Updated)

Masterlist of Written Works

DCU

Red Hood | Jason Todd

As the World Caves In (angst)

The Shadows Hide the Shapes But Not the Lovers (Posted on AO3) (angst, comfort, smut)

Easter (fluff)

JJK

Gojo Satoru

Eldritch Beings Need Love Too (Posted on AO3) (smut)

Don't Worry, I'm the Strongest... Right? (Posted on AO3) (angst, “comfort”)

Nanami Kento

Pay Up! (Posted on AO3) (fluff, smut)

LADS

Li Shen | Zayne

Should Have Been Me Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Final Part  (angst no comfort, implied smut) [completed]

Tis But a Scratch (fluff, romantic/sexual tension)

Heatwaves (angst w/ comfort, fluff)

Strip Kitty Cards (smut (memories of a smut), humor)

Fake Moaning? Not On My Watch… (smut)

Talk - Hozier (smut)

Xia Yizhou | Caleb

Share a Pizza with Me (fluff, romance)

Eating Tacos On The Roof Of Your Car | Part 1 | Part 2 | Final Part  (fluff, rivals-to-friends-to-lovers romance) [completed]

Man vs Machine (smut)

Qi Yu | Rafayel

coming soon!

Masterlist of Headcanons/Blurbs

LADS

Li Shen | Zayne

Dr. Zayne Crashout Headcanon

Can we drink/eat the ice from Zayne’s Evol?

Imagine Zayne and MC arguing like Tony and Steve did in Avengers: Endgame

Imagine Zayne wanting to hold God (Astra) responsible 

Dr. Zayne and Osmosis Jones 

Zaynie the Penguin

Nanny McPhee

Zayne’s glasses

Xia Yizhou | Caleb

Imagining Caleb in Top Gun Maverick's Beach Scene

Imagining Caleb as the Winter Soldier

Star Wars AU: Which character fits Caleb the most? (poll)

LADs as the Prequel Trilogy: Star Wars Episode II

LADs as the Prequel Trilogy: Star Wars Episode II

Caleb and Gojo Satoru

LADs and Pearl Harbor 2001 Movie

Qi Yu | Rafayel

Imagine Rafayel making faces when painting people 

LADs as the Original Sequel Trilogy: A New Hope 

The Water is Fine 

Qin Che | Sylus

Star Wars x LADs Sylus Poll: What fits Sylus better?

Sylus-core

Sylus x Non-MC & Morgan x Garcia

Zayne & Caleb

Imagining Zayne vs Caleb vs MC like the big fight between Tony vs Steve vs Bucky in Civil War 

Imagine Zayne and Caleb watching Breaking Dawn 

All of the LIs

Music Headcanon

HTTYD and Marvel Quotes

Star Wars x LADs (poll)

Imagine being in the LADs universe - Slang Edition 

MC & OC

LADs Identical Twin MC & Non-MC

Sylus x Non-MC & Morgan x Garcia 

[impulsivebrainrot]

☀️🌙SYNOPSIS🪐⭐

It's been a little over a year since Belos's defeat. The Collector returns to the Boiling Isles after some time of exploring the stars. Unfortunately, he's not the only one coming home.

King and The Collector must now delve deeper into the history between their kins and unravel secrets that could help them stand a chance against this new threat. In a race against time, relationships are challenged along with the formation of an unexpected alliance.

💀 CHAPTERS ⭐

📌 Chapter 1: Some Flowery Advice

📌 Chapter 2: Party Planning

📌 Chapter 3: Bread Buddies Quest

📌 Chapter 4: Fallen Star

📌 Chapter 5: Asking and Dreaming

📌 Chapter 6: Tolerated Team-Up

📌 Chapter 7: Return to Titan Trapper Island

📌 Chapter 8: Reform and Written Things

📌 Chapter 9: Cleaning Up Messes

📌 Chapter 10: Let's Get Started

📌 Chapter 11: Carvings on Skin and Wood

📌 Chapter 12: In Between Myths and Memories

📌 Chapter 13: Fright at the Museum

📌 Chapter 14: Looking Back to the Looking Glass

📌 Chapter 15: A Game of CAT(s) and Mouse

📌 Chapter 16: Race to the Edge of the Railroad

📌 Chapter 17: The Games We Played

I'm just a silly little deerfox on the internet who likes to draw and is trying out writing .w. I've always loved King and The Collector's friendship and want to explore the Titan and Archivist lore we never got (screw u disney), while incorporating my own plot. It's mostly dialogue .w.

Suddenly came up with the idea for this fic after rewatching my fave trilogy XD If you figure out what it is, lemme know in the comments! 👀

(Irregular updates 'cause I'm in college TvT)

Thank you for your support and patience. Enjoy the art and story yippeee \;w;/

Link to cover art close-ups

[fcbisexual6]

BARÇA AND MOVIES/SERIES THEY WOULD STARR IN✨

for @ilovemonk ✨ (for some reason i cant tag em properly im kms)

ROBERT LEWANDOWSKI Starring in KINGSMAN.

Charming yet deadly well dressed man, fights with precise movements none of his enemies know what hit em when he is on a solo mission.

~~~

MARC BERNAL Starring in HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON.

He would be the one looking after Light Fury instead of Toothless, both gentle, fierce and playful i think they would get along well

~~~

PAU CUBARSI Starring as ETERNALS Druig.

A less drastic Druig, quiet yet strong willed, defensive of anyone's freedom to just be.

~~~

IÑIGO MARTINEZ Starring in HOTD, (never seen it but my bsf has told me enough)

This man makes sense as part of House Stark, known for their loyalty, strength and independence.

~~~

ERIC GARCIA Starring in HOUSE OF CARDS.

A smooth mf with his smart man glasses, is he good or is he bad, maybe a grey moral code? idk but he is hot.

~~~

RAPHINHA Starring In FAST & FURIOUS.

A true leader, a man who does anything for “Family”, plus he just fits the quick pace scenes and action of these movies. He's got the look and passion.

~~~

HECTOR FORT Starring In ELITE.

His pretty bad boy look fits right in with the rebellious crazy rich kids. Dark secrets hidden under his diamond chains and expensive clothes.

~~~

ALEJANDRO BALDE Starring in THE AMAZING SPIDERMAN.

The most charming and complex spidey, perfect for Balde.

~~~

RONALD ARAUJO Starring in a Roman Warrior movie (idk never saw one from start to finish).

His face structure (yes i focus on that) is perfect for a roman helmet, maybe a warrior leading troops.

~~~

FERMIN LOPEZ Starring in BRIDGERTON.

He fits an enemies to lovers storyline, high tension without being able to act on it.

~~~

FRENKIE DE JONG Starring in BRIDGERTON / FELLOW TRAVELERS.

Something set in the past, he just has the look of the perfect love interest, perhaps a forbidden mlm love even ( i can't stop thinking he and Mikkey feel like a lavender marriage (THIS IS A JOKE)

~~~

LAMINE YAMAL Starring in THE SPIDERVERSE TRILOGY.

Just a kid wanting to find his place along the great ones without losing himself. Holds his family and friends very close to his heart, a bit silly but he is still just a kid to be carrying the weight of his great power but he wont change it for anything.

~~~

PEDRI GONZALES Starring in DOCTOR STRANGE.

Ever since i found out they call him “Magician” i've made that connection, a less grumpy yet has gone through many hardships Doctor Pedri with the powers of the Time Stone (he controls the tempo of the game)

~~~

JULES KOUNDE Starring in MEN IN BLACK.

Because c’mon fire music and funny, he would look awesome in a suit showing off his insane sense of humor and killing aliens.

~~~

FERRAN TORRES Starring in 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU / DEADPOOL.

10 Things I Hate About You, perfect for a banter built romance with miscommunication in the middel.

But also i will never shut up about this and have smth cooking up with it, Deadpool, i don't have to explain this it just makes sense, the moment Ryan Reynolds decides to leave Deadpool i say Ferran should take his place and start a whole other trilogy in spanish.

~~~

MARC ANDRE TER STEGEN Starring in CAPTAIN AMERICA & THE WINTER SOLDIER (Bucky Barnes)

A soldier turned machine turned into someone trying to find himself carrying all of his out-of-his-own control wrongdoings.

~~~

PABLO GAVIRA Starring in ETOILE.

It came out recently but overall, i can see him in a show focused on football and the weight it has when its all you know (the show is focused on ballet, i recommend it to pass the time it's very fun yet intense, no matter what kind of artist you are it connects with you)

~~~

MARC CASADO Starring in MONEY HEIST.

Rocky backstory makes him a bit unhinged yet is the one The Professors holds at highest regards, even tho he won't follow anyones directions blindly and if he has to go rogue to make things work how he knows they're supposed to then he will. Isn’t the most silent member but when he is its scary, what is he planning?

~~~

WOW that took a while but it was fun to picture them in these movies/series, one that really tickled my brain was Marc C's one, but to even get into it i would have to rewatch Money Heist.

[vulcajes-archive]

Intro Post !!!

My name is Grace (any pronouns), I'm 18, and I live in the UK!

Facts about me:

- I'm an I/ENTJ (it changes each time I take it)

- I'm a Sagittarius

- My favourite colour is yellow

- I have a cat called Oscar Wilde

- I'm an A-level student, taking English lit, history, and French

- I LOVE classic literature (I'm a Dostoevsky girly)

- I love making shuffles and moodboards for fics/characters/ships that I like!

- Currently reading: Emma by Jane Austen

My favourite things!

This is just a list of my fandoms/fave music/films/etc

Fandoms:

- Marauders (Sirius kin and multishipper)

- Doctor Who (9 and 12 supremacist)

- Criminal Minds (I'm an Elle supporter idgaf)

Favourite musicians:

- Hozier!!!! (saw him live and I nearly sobbed)

- Mitski

- Ethel Cain

- Wallows

- Bee Gees

- Jeff Buckley

- One Direction (and the boys' solo careers ofc)

- Ayesha Erotica

- Solya

Favourite films:

- La Haine

- Jojo Rabbit

- Jurassic Park

- Knives Out/Glass Onion/presumably the third in the trilogy when it comes out lol

Favourite books:

- Crime and Punishment

- The Picture of Dorian Gray

- The Collector

- To Kill a Mockingbird

- Dracula

- If you have any book recs please feel free to send me an ask or dm me!!

Favourite quotes:

- "The peaches were as pink as angels' cheeks when Manny James began to love Alice Nightingale." (The Stars At Oktober Bend)

- "Your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing." (Crime and Punishment)

- "We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." (Lady Windermere's Fan)

My works!

I'm a fanfic writer and also a purveyor of Spotify playlists lol

Fanfics:

- Our Last Summer (ongoing)

- Sailor Song (ongoing)

Spotify playlists:

Peter Pettigrew, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Lily Evans, Mary MacDonald, Pandora Lovegood, Regulus Black, Jily, Rosekiller, Wolfstar, Marauders

DNI List:

- Transphobes

- Homophobes

- Racists

- Zionists

- Ableists

- Xenophobes

- Anyone else who follows any kind of bigoted ideology or other insanities!

This intro post has been mrstellmeafuckingsecret approved !

[glow1228aura]

the most babygirl 🎀

[partycatty]

I can't get enough of young Johnny MK11! I love him, god!🥵 How do you like this topic for fanfic? Fem!reader put his jacket and glasses on his naked body, and took sexy selfies.😎❤️‍🔥 Johnny saw this aaand here I’m already giving way to your fantasy hehe~

Thank you in advance! I like the way you write! Well done💕

i'm not sure if i read it right ?? lmk, but i went with my interpretation

johnny cage > call me

johnny's out late working, as usual. you've had enough of waiting and decide to bait him into coming home early

warnings: PHONE SEX TEEHEE

notes: do you guys also like genuinely tweak out wishing he was real? he's so perfect? peak malewife? wishing u were [REDACTED] his [REDACTED] rn?

masterlist

• you were often left to your own devices when it came to living with johnny. he, after all, was a star constantly running around on new projects. any studio would be at his knees for just one contract. he was hollywood's richest man, and you were lucky to call him your boyfriend.

• sure, it had it's moments. the paps stealing upskirt shots from you wasn't ideal, neither was the bush stalking. but you could see past that. what was hardest was when johnny would be gone all through the night, dressed in that stupid ninja mime getup that you learned to loathe since it pulled him away more than his other works. does the world really need a ninja mime trilogy? yes, apparently.

• boredom overtook you, since browsing on your phone for eight hours was now becoming a horrible habit on your neck - and mental stability. you took to mopping the floors, tidying the countertops, dusting his awards. finally, you settled on your walk-in closet.

• it was spacious, big enough for you to each get a side. your side was always decently organized to your liking, but johnny's was... atrocious. jackets hung on one sleeve, some on the floor. the only thing that was neatly organized on his side was the giant rack of sunglasses. he always had a pair to match the outfit and occasion. he probably had about three pairs on him at work.

• as you tried to rearrange his clothing, his distinct, classy scent filled your nose, sticking to the inside of your nose and you couldn't help but feel heated. you missed him, him and his dick. you took a deep whiff of his iconic blue and purple jacket, the one he left at home knowing he'd have to get in costume anyway.

• you threw it over yourself, embracing your torso and spinning in the mirror. it fit him perfectly, but on you it was like a blanket. the sleeves sagged off of your arms and your midsection was swimming. his size was impressive, his form shaped like a greek god.

• you couldn't help yourself, the memories of him and scent turned you on. blame pheromones, dammit! but, you realized you could take advantage of this.

• throwing your shirt off, you donned the jacket again, wearing it like he does - chest exposed. a purple pair of sunglasses practically screamed your name from the rack and you put them on. you looked just like him...! no, not really.

• touching yourself in his clothes was not a new idea, but there certainly was a new idea blossoming in your head. you pulled your phone out and snapped a mirror selfie, trying to flex like he does but your muscles were muffled from the loose fabric.

• how's this for the next cagecon? you text johnny, attaching the photo. you didn't expect him to reply right away, considering he was at work. but before you could lock your phone for the moment, his name popped up within milliseconds.

• don't take me away from work, baby! johnny replies with a winking emoji.

• what if i want to? it's so lonely in your mansion, you reply with an angel emoji, sitting on the edge of your shared bed as you fight a grin. you angle the phone downward, capturing your bare chest. your nipples brush against the jacket, making them stick out through the front. johnny takes a moment to reply, but you feel your phone vibrate once, then twice, then three times.

• fuck, you're so hot in my clothes.

• i'm taking my break early. can't work with a boner.

• the third message was a short video of him palming himself through that stupid costume. the only thing you can thank that outfit for is how prominent it makes his bulge.

• phone sex through texts was also nothing new to you two, considering the distance. as your fingers sink under your panties, assuming that's where things will go before you get a fourth message.

• call me. please.

• you sit up straight, biting your lip. his desperation always got you going. you kicked your pants and panties aside.

• you send one last photo, your body spread out on the bed in his clothes. your hand conceals your dripping pussy playfully.

• why should i? you shoot the message out, giggling at your own words.

• johnny doesn't even reply, he opens your message and calls you. you eagerly accept his call. his voice is echoey and rough. you realize he's hiding in the bathroom. his breathing is heavy.

• "are you proud of yourself?" he asks in a low rumble, trying to stay quiet but his flustered huffing makes his voice whiny. "look at what you did."

• he sends a photo. his cock is eager and out, and you see a teardrop of precum on his tip. you happily exchange that photo for another one, a short video of you gingerly touching yourself. he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

• "i couldn't wait til i'd get home," he admits, and you hear the slick sounds of him jerking off. "i want to, i want to come home and fuck you like that, but i'm here for another two hours."

• "you couldn't have waited?" you ask in disbelief, circling small loops on your aching clit.

• "no." johnny's reply sounded so sure of himself, so convinced in his words. he was as firm as he would've been if you asked him if he killed someone. he knew this to be a fact, he could not wait. "i can't help it, sweetheart. you're just so... god."

• his breaths get heavier and needier, you can sense he's speeding up on himself. you try to match what you assume is his pace, one that he confirms through another video. he held the phone below his dick, giving you a delicious view of his abs and bobbing adam's apple as he swallowed hungrily.

• his arms were painted white, but his hands were his usual flesh tone since he wore gloves for the costume. even still, his veins were incredibly prominent and really helping you reach your climax.

• "we gotta make this quick, baby," he grumbles into the phone, muffling his moans through bitten lips. you're a little louder due to your privacy, much to his delight. "people'll start looking for me."

• "johnny," you whimper out, back arching up off of the bed. "i'm already close." through your haze, you get a video of you masturbating wildly, the jacket now sliding down to your sides and fully revealing your tits as you fuck yourself. "i-i need you, i need you so bad-"

• "i know, baby," he breathlessly replies, straining himself to avoid moaning out your name and attracting attention. "let me hear how badly you need me."

• you could only spew out utter nonsense at this point as your orgasm is dangerously close. he seems to get the memo, though, and gives you permission to cum with him. your needy cries and his muffled grunts make a perfect chorus that you only wish were in person.

• when your breathing slows, as does his, you hear him chuckle to himself. a new message appears in your chat.

• his weeping dick was cradled in his palm, as was a entire handful of semen dripping down his fingers. he wanted to show you just how hard you made him cum from phone sex alone.

• "round one was now," he mumbles as you hear him tear a piece of toilet paper to wipe his hand. "round two is when i get home. you gonna be ready for it, princess?"

• the phone rests on your bare, damp chest as you fixate on the ceiling. you take the sunglasses off and wipe your face with a smile.

• "i'm always ready," you reply with a giggle.

• "that's my girl. see you in two hours. i love you." and with that, he hangs up, leaving you a naked, sweaty mess that's only concealed in his jacket.

[trooperst-3v3]

If I get Hux for the Secret Santa, does his present have to be music or saxophone related? Because if I get him, I was planning on giving him something like a fancy set of glasses. And for Phasma, I want to get her the biography of that Senator Weems lady.

I think Captain Phasma would love a good book. You could even throw in some nice tea or a candle to make it extra fancy.

As for Hux, are you talking about glasses for drinking from or for seeing with? Does Hux have bad vision? Has he been wearing contacts this whole time? Has my life, up to now, been a lie?

[noblebynura]

Threads of Nyx Trilogy

Part iii: Son of Nyx

Part i: Somewhere, The Stars Remembered

Part ii: I, Carrion

Pairing: Earth-828 Johnny Storm x Witch!Earth-616 Reader Synopsis: A reunion filled with grief. Genre & warnings: SPOILERS FOR FF:FS!!, Angst, Hurt/Slight comfort, Marvel level violence but its really nothing, sort of canon compliant? But this is more like an episode of What If...? but I'm the one driving this damn ship☺️ We don't know what is happening in the house of commons right now. Word count: 4.8k | masterlist a/n: I am going to hold your hand while you read this finale, okay?

It starts with a hum.

Soft, low, and sharp.The sound of reality pulling at its seams.

The Watch Tower common room is dim, lit only by flickering monitor light. Onscreen, red laced satellite scans bloom and fade. Emergency broadcasts loop silently in the background.

You barely hear them anymore.

The others are mid argument. Yelena lounges on the couch with arms crossed, tense despite her posture. Bucky stands near the window, unmoving, eyes locked on the sky. Even Walker’s pacing. Ava’s fingers twitch restlessly over a remote, trying to isolate dimensional signatures.

But you know.

You already know.

Because you saw the ship.

Because you remember it.

And then, it happens.

The air behind you warps with a shimmer, and a portal slices open the space just beyond the couch. The room stutters into silence as Stephen Strange steps through.

He doesn’t speak at first. He doesn’t need to.

His presence is enough. The ripple of restrained power, the tension in his shoulders, the weary edge to his breath. His eyes don’t scan the room. They land on you.

You meet them without blinking.

“It shouldn’t be here,” he says quietly, voice low and clipped. “That ship doesn’t belong in this reality.”

You stand slowly, jaw tight.

“You know why they’re here aren’t you?.”

“That doesn’t matter. The Sacred Timeline isn’t a refugee camp. If they remain here—”

Your suspicion was right.

“They’ll die,” you cut in, louder now. “If you send them back, or anywhere else—they’ll die.”

The silence fractures like glass.

Ava glances from you to Strange. “Wait—who exactly are we talking about?”

Strange doesn’t answer. He never looks away from you.

Yelena frowns. “If someone’s in danger, we don’t just send them off to die.”

“It isn’t about danger,” Strange replies coolly. “It’s about consequence.”

“And what, we’re supposed to just stand here while you erase them?” Bucky says, stepping forward, slow and deliberate.

“It’s not that,” Strange says. “It’s restoration. You don’t understand the scale—”

“No,” you snap. “They don’t. But I do. I know exactly what it costs.”

Strange exhales sharply. “You’ve walked this path before. You know the damage it causes. You know.”

“Then help me fix it,” you whisper. “Please, Stephen. Don’t make me fight you.”

He falters. For a second, you see it. That man. The one who once let you stay. The one who trusted you, even when he shouldn’t have.

John speaks, his voice edged and annoyed. “So what, we’re babysitting time refugees now?”

Yelena shoots him a glare. “If they’re people who need help, yes. That’s what we’re doing.”

“She’s right,” Bucky says quietly, standing beside you now. “We don’t turn our backs. Not after everything she’s done for us.”

One by one, they begin to shift. The Thunderbolts stepping behind you, not because they fully understand the stakes, but because they trust you.

Strange sees it. The flicker in his eyes says as much.

He opens another portal behind him, gold and spiraling, an exit wound in the air.

He doesn’t step through yet. Instead, he pauses, gaze steady on you.

“Count your time with him carefully,” he says. “The multiverse is merciless.”

And then he’s gone.

The portal flickers closed like a slow blink.

But the weight of what he left behind stays, pressing into the room like another gravity.

The only thing louder than the silence is your heartbeat.

And somewhere, far below, the ship still waits.

Carrying the last survivors of a world that no longer exists.

And one of them is him.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

The sky was the color of bruised steel when the jets touched down.

You stepped out first, wind tugging your coat tight around your frame as your boots crunched into scorched grass. A tremor buzzed through the soles of your feet, something that is not magic, not quite, but something rawer. Gravitational. Like the world still hadn’t figured out how to hold its weight after what had just arrived.

The rest of the Thunderbolts fanned out behind you. Yelena moved like water, her stance sharp, Ava phased out of visibility before her feet even hit the ground, John and Alexei bickered half heartedly about perimeter lines, while Bucky and Bob stood silent at your shoulder, eyes trained on the vessel.

The military had already cordoned off the field. Drones hovered overhead, casting sterile white light over the deep, smoking crater where the ship had torn through the earth. It was unlike anything from this planet. Its surface curved in soft chrome, retrofuturistic and charred, like something out of a memory that didn’t belong to this world.

You didn’t blink.

A hiss. A groan of decompressed pressure. The hatch opened with a shuddering wheeze.

Reed Richards emerged first. His face was pallid, gaunt with the look of a man who had calculated every single way to win and still failed. His uniform was torn, coated with ash and something darker. Next came Sue, arms tight around Franklin, who didn’t lift his eyes. His hair was dusted with white. A silent child born from stars and endings. Ben followed, carrying the barely functioning H.E.R.B.I.E. against his broad, crumbling shoulder like a broken limb.

And then —

Your breath caught.

Him.

Johnny.

His silhouette emerged against the smoke, tall and worn, golden under the harsh floodlights. His uniform was scorched and soot streaked, his posture taut with unshed grief. His eyes were scanning the field with an edge of panic, until they landed on yours.

The moment cracked open.

The wind stilled. Your feet moved before your mind caught up.

He was already running, across broken earth, past soldiers and teammates and the fractured silence. Until he stopped just short in front of you.

You froze too.

A heartbeat.

Then two.

The world narrowed.

He stared at you like you were an illusion conjured from the smoke and trauma, something fragile that might vanish if he blinked too hard. His chest rose and fell with disbelief, eyes wide, glassy, reflecting every year, every memory, every second he had feared this moment would never come.

Slowly, he raised a hand.

It trembled as he reached for your face, hesitating just before his fingers touched your cheek, as if afraid the illusion would shatter beneath his skin.

But you leaned into it. Warm. Real.

A tear spilled down your cheek. He caught it with his thumb.

And then you closed the distance, pulling him into you.

Your arms locked around him with a desperation that cracked something inside both of you. His arms wrapped tight around your waist, the contact shattering whatever composure he had left. He buried his face into your shoulder and broke, not loudly, not messily, but with the quiet, aching sound of a man who had finally reached shore after drowning for years.

You gripped him like the universe might take him again if you let go.

But you wouldn’t. Not this time.

Not ever again.

You could barely breathe from the force of it. From the way your chest ached. From the way he gripped you like you'd vanish if he blinked.

“I thought you were gone,” he rasped, voice breaking around every word. “I thought you— I thought I lost you too.”

You held him tighter. Fingers curling into the back of his suit. “I’m not,” you whispered. “You’re here now.”

His hand rose to cradle the back of your head. His touch was desperate. Gentle. Like worship.

“I kept dreaming,” he murmured. “Of this. Of you. But then I’d wake up and it’d be gone.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you. His face was streaked with soot and grief, tears cutting clean lines down his cheeks.

“But you’re real,” he said. “You’re here.”

You nodded. “So are you.”

The world had collapsed.

But somehow in the wreckage, you had found each other again.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

Later that afternoon, after the Fantastic Four had been stabilized and brought to the Tower’s private wing, you stood again in a circle of war weary faces. This time, no soldiers. No weapons drawn. Just uneasy silence and the scratch of boots on tile.

The Watch Tower’s situation room had been cleared for a private audience as per Valentina’s idea. No cameras, no press, no analysts. Just the Thunderbolts, Captain America, and a grieving family from another universe.

Reed spoke first.

He stood tall despite the weight on his shoulders. Explained, with clipped precision, how they had tracked Earth-616 using the residual multiversal dampener Johnny had crafted for you during your time in Earth-828. How they followed the field’s echo across dimensions. How they had to.

“There was nowhere else to go,” he said. His voice wasn’t cold. It was cracked porcelain.

Sue added gently, “We lost everything. We tried to stop it. We thought we could… slow it down. Divert him. But there’s no stopping something like Galactus.”

Franklin sat curled between her and Ben, silent, fingers twisted in H.E.R.B.I.E.’s scorched plating. His powers were dormant now having burned out by whatever it took to get them here.

You didn’t speak much. Just watched. Just listened.

It wasn’t until the end of the meeting, when Sam Wilson nodded his agreement to proceed to the summit at the White House, that Reed stepped aside. He didn’t follow the others to the airlift immediately.

Instead, he turned to you.

“I owe you an apology,” he said, quiet. “For the way things ended. For not listening to Johnny. For what happened to you.”

You hesitated, then stepped closer.

“I crossed into your world when I shouldn’t have. That’s on me. I started something that spiraled too far.”

His expression pinched. “You weren’t the problem. I was the one who told Johnny to let you go. I thought keeping him focused would keep us safe. But all I did was drive a wedge between him and the one of the things he cared for.”

You didn’t expect it to sting like that. But it did.

Still, you gave a small nod. “We both did what we thought we had to.”

“And now,” he said, “we have to do something else. Something better.”

You looked past him, through the Tower’s long hall of windows. The sun was already sliding west, casting golden streaks across the floor.

The moment wasn’t big. Wasn’t dramatic.

Just necessary.

You extended your hand. 

Reed took it. Warm and steady.

A silent agreement between you two to do whatever you can now to help.

A beat later, Valentina called out from the other corridor.

“Let’s go. History’s waiting.”

You and Reed parted silently, and you followed the others toward the waiting airlift, the pressure of unspoken worlds loosening if only a little from your ribs.

And soon, the press, the war room, and the judgment of a planet would follow. But for now, you’d stitched shut one old wound.

That was enough.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝ 

Now, you stood in the glassy war room of the White House. Mirrors and polished steel. Oversized screens scrolling lines of dimensional data. Officials with tight faces and even tighter collars. Security bristled along every corridor.

Valentina walked ahead of you, her heels echoing against polished marble, flanked by the full Thunderbolts lineup. Cameras blinked behind the soundproof walls. The flag of the United States flanked either side of the chamber like watchful eyes.

On the far side of the room stood the representatives of Earth-616’s governing bodies, stern and skeptical. Beside them Sam Wilson, clad in his red-white-blue wings, arms folded over his chest. And beside him, Joaquín Torres, sharp-eyed and alert in his own upgraded Falcon gear.

Val cleared her throat. “Let’s begin.”

The initial explanations came from you and Reed. Quiet but honest.

Reed spoke in calm, exacting detail of multiversal signatures traced through decaying quantum threads, of a device left behind.  How they had found your universe through it. How they had nowhere else to go.

Some of the information he recalled from the public. It only stays between you.

You kept your voice steady, even as your heart threatened to rattle apart in your chest.

“How can we be sure this isn’t an incursion waiting to happen?” one official barked. “Or that they weren’t followed?”

“They were,” you said simply, forcing yourself not to glance across the room. “But not by choice. They lost their entire planet. They tried to stop it.”

Your hands remained at your sides, clenched, unseen beneath the table.

Reed’s voice cracked ever so slightly as he spoke. “Galactus didn’t just consume it. He unmade it. We did everything in our power to stop the event. Everything. But in the end... we got out with one ship.”

“We had no other option,” Sue added, voice quiet but unwavering. “But to come here. We didn’t come to take anything from you. We just came to survive.”

Murmurs buzzed from every side. Tension rising like steam in the sealed room.

You swallowed it down. The instinct to move, to turn your head, to look at him.

Don’t look. Don’t break. Not yet.

Valentina, arms crossed, gave a short nod to her team. “Get them checked. Every one of them. Medical scans, vitals, dimensional residuals. If there’s even a trace of contamination—”

Finally, your resolve cracked just enough to look.

And Johnny…

Johnny was already looking at you.

Not like he had before. Not the blazing, youthful charm, not the devil-may-care grin in the time you spent together. This look was quieter. Worn. Raw. Like he had seen the edge of the world and now stared at the only thing that hadn’t fallen away beneath him.

Your eyes met, and the weight of it crushed the air in your lungs.

He didn’t speak. Just held your gaze like it was the last solid thing in a universe that had collapsed around him.

And then he turned.

Followed the med techs and his family out of the chamber, out of sight.

You stood still in the center front of that room, the voices and arguments resuming around you, your body anchored in place but your chest hollow and echoing, like something had just left that you weren’t ready to lose again.

You looked over at Val. Hard.

She held your gaze. Then relented.

The room tensed again as the policy meeting began.

“Bringing unknown multiversal beings into our world is a direct risk to national security,” one suited man said coldly. “Especially after Sokovia, after Westview, after the incursions—how do we know this won’t cause another catastrophe?”

“They escaped destruction,” Yelena snapped. “They didn’t come to start one.”

You hadn’t planned to speak. Not again. But the room was full of eyes. Valentina glanced at you. So did Sam.

So you turned to Yelena. And to all of them.

“They have nothing left,” you said. Quiet, but clear. “Not a home. Not a timeline. They lost everything, and they still came here to survive. They’re grieving, not invading.”

Yelena looked at you. And for once, her face softened.

She turned to Valentina. “They stay.”

Val opened her mouth. Paused.

Then nodded once.

“Very well,” she said. “As of now, the Fantastic Four are to be placed under Thunderbolt jurisdiction. They’ll be housed in the Watch Tower until further notice. Any investigation, threat analysis, or multiversal risk will be handled by my team.”

She looked to Sam. “In cooperation with Captain America and the U.S. Defense Forces.”

Sam nodded. “We do this together. Carefully. And humanely.”

You noticed Bucky nodding once to what he said. Hard lines on his forehead, deep in thoughts.

And the room finally, finally, began to settle.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

Later that evening, the Watch Tower press room gleamed with cameras and microphones. Valentina stood at the podium, her sharp smile front and center. Behind her, you stood with the rest of the Thunderbolts. Sam Wilson and Joaquín flanked her on the left.

Valentina stood with a smile so sharp it could cut through steel. “The Thunderbolts are cooperating with all branches of government and our allies, including the current Captain America,” she’d said into the mic. “We will ensure the presence of the Fantastic Four causes no disruption to Earth-616, our earth. They will be under our watch, and this situation will be handled… peacefully.”

Cameras clicked. Lights flashed.

“This is not an invasion,” she continued. “This is a crisis we are working to resolve—peacefully, and with caution. We are committed to ensuring Earth-616’s safety without abandoning those in need.”

The press murmured. One hand shot up.

“Are the Thunderbolts equipped to handle multiversal threats?”

Yelena stepped forward. “We already are.”

And beside her, you stood silently, eyes scanning the flashing lenses.

The Fantastic Four were quietly escorted into the Watch Tower’s upper quarters not long after the press conference ended along with their med checkup. Val’s staff, efficient and tight-lipped, assigned them private rooms with enough distance between them for comfort, but close enough to feel like they weren’t alone in this strange new world. Johnny disappears behind a reinforced sliding door without a word, his shoulders tight, his fire dimmed. 

In the Watch Tower, he sat in silence.

And the world turned.

⌞══════════════════════════════════════════⌝

Now, the lights were behind you. The cameras silenced. The performance over.

You rode the elevator back up the Watch Tower alone, still wearing the same coat from the crash site, its hem dusted in dried soil. The floor numbers blinked up one by one. Sluggish, almost reluctant. You leaned your head against the wall. The cool metal helped. Slightly.

The press conference had dragged like a knife. Smiling, explaining, containing. Words like “containment,” “risk assessment,” “interdimensional diplomacy” echoed like static in your skull. You remembered the flashes of the lenses’ barrels pointed at you, the dozen voices asking you what comes next.

All you had really wanted to say was: He’s alive. That’s all that matters.

Now the others were gone, dispersed like aftershocks. Yelena had took a moment to herself, leaning into the wall with a tired frown. Bucky and John argued somewhere in the hallway behind you, their voices low and without real heat. Ava had disappeared before the elevator doors even opened.

But you stood there, still.

Outside his room.

You stared at the smooth panel of his door for a long moment, your hand hovering just inches from it. And for the first time since the world tilted back on its axis, you allowed yourself to feel it.

The fear.

The relief.

The aching hope that maybe, somehow, despite everything… he was still him.

You hadn't let yourself look too long earlier. Not at the crash site, not in the White House, not when his eyes found yours across a room full of wolves.

But now, it was just you.

And him.

You breathed in, slow and full, as if bracing yourself for something more painful than combat.

You raised your hand.

And knocked.

Once.

Twice.

Silence.

You began to pull your hand back. Maybe he needs space. Maybe this isn’t the right time. Maybe you don’t get to want this anymore—

And then—

A quiet hiss.

The door slid open.

Johnny stood there in dim light, his shirt half-unbuttoned, chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon. His hair was damp, messy, like he’d run his hands through it a thousand times and still couldn’t smooth it down. His eyes… they were red-rimmed, dark with exhaustion, brighter somehow when they landed on you.

Like he was seeing something he thought he’d never get back.

You didn’t say a word.

You stepped in.

He didn’t stop you.

And as the door closed behind you with a soft click, it felt like something ancient exhaled. Like the universe itself allowed, for once, a moment of mercy.

And in the next breath, he collapsed into you.

Not gently. Not cautiously. It was like the last wall holding him together finally broke, and all that was left came spilling out into your arms.

His weight nearly knocked you off your feet but you didn’t move. You held him. Let him fall. Let his grief take shape in the curve of his shoulders and the way his hands fisted into your shirt like he didn’t trust the ground anymore.

He shook. Not from cold. From the pressure of everything.

From the end of a world.

From the fact that he survived it.

A sound clawed out of his throat. Not quite a sob, not quite a scream, and his fingers moved to his hair, gripping at the strands like he could wring the guilt from his skull.

Your arms fall to your side.

“I left them,” he gasped, voice cracked and desperate. “I left everyone. I should’ve—god, I should’ve been able to stop it. Reed told me to stay with the ship, to keep the exit open, but I could’ve done more. I should’ve.”

You pulled him in tighter, guiding him to the edge of the bed as you sat down, your arms never leaving his trembling frame.

His chest heaved with the effort of breathing. As if each inhale came with the weight of another name, another person, another city lost to the starless mouth of Galactus.

“I watched it happen,” he said, quieter now, but no softer. “The whole planet. Every place I’d ever flown over. Every rooftop I ever stood on. Everything just… just vanished. Like—like it was never real to begin with. Like we never mattered at all.”

He laughed. Choked on it.

“I used to say I’d die for them,” he whispered. “And instead, I lived. I watched.”

You raised your hand to his jaw, gently guiding his gaze to meet yours. His eyes were red. Hollow. Haunted in a way that made your stomach twist.

You brushed away his tears with your thumbs. But more followed. He couldn’t stop.

And neither could you.

“You didn’t run,” you said, voice steady despite the break in your heart. “You survived. You saved your family. You got them out.” Your hands now dropped to his shoulder, giving them a hold with enough pressure to let him focus on you, “That’s not failure, Johnny. That’s love. That’s sacrifice.”

His brow twisted. “I—” His voice caught in his throat. “I left behind billions. Whole countries. People who looked to us. Who believed in us. I keep hearing them — screaming, and... dying. Gone. Like they were never there.”

His fingers gripped your wrist, grounding himself.

You took his hand, placed it over your chest where your heart was hammering in defiance.

“You didn’t have a choice,” you whispered. “Even a hero can’t save everyone. You’re not a god, Johnny. You were a man who fought until there was nothing left to fight for. And now you’re here. Alive. And that means something. It has to.”

He broke then. A full, shattered sob into your shoulder, hot tears soaking the collar of your shirt as he held onto you like he didn’t know what else to do. Repeating his guilt like a broken record.

The grief in the room was thick. It pressed into the walls, into the floor, into the breath between your lungs.

Like a tide pulling both of you under.

You leaned in, kissed his forehead. Trembling and burning and cold, then rested yours against it.

His skin smelled like ash and ozone and something faintly like you remembered from a scent that used to mean warmth and mischief and youth.

Now it smelled like a funeral.

“I’m here,” you murmured, letting the words rest between you like a promise. “I’m here.”

He clutched you tighter, his breath hitching against your shoulder. 

How cruel it was for the stars to give you a fate like this. Holding a broken man with his life erased.

“I tried to find you,” he said quietly. “After you left our earth… after you disappeared. I looked everywhere. I didn’t stop. Even when Reed said the trail went cold. I just… I couldn’t let it go.��

You didn’t move. You barely breathed.

“I needed to believe you were alive,” he said, voice breaking. “Maybe you made it somewhere safe. Like if I kept looking, I’d find you again. And now you’re here. And I’m—” He shook his head. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

You pulled back just enough to see him. He looked exhausted. Hollowed out. Not from lack of sleep, but from everything he’d carried.

“I thought about this moment a thousand times,” he said. “I pictured seeing you again. But not like this. Not after everything’s gone. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“Johnny,” you whispered, “it’s not your fault.”

His hands moved to your face, holding it like he was afraid it would disappear if he blinked. His thumb brushed your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “That this is how it had to happen. That we’re here because everything else fell apart.”

You shook your head, your hands resting over his.

“You did everything you could,” you said. “You saved your family. You held on. You survived.”

He closed his eyes. His jaw tightened.

“I don’t feel like I survived. I feel like something’s missing. Like I’m still stuck there, watching it all go down.”

You leaned in, rested your forehead gently against his.

“You’re not alone now,” you said.

He nodded, slowly. His voice was barely above a whisper.

“I missed you every day.”

“I know,” you said. “Me too.”

And for a while, neither of you said anything. You just stayed like that. Close, quiet, steady. The world could wait. Right now, all that mattered was this.

Him. You.

Still standing.

Epilogue

The sky rippled, bending like heat haze across the upper atmosphere. Not a sound broke the stillness, but the stars shifted, subtle and strange, like they, too, were waiting.

Far beyond, suspended in another plane, Strange watched.

Hovering at the edge of this reality, his silhouette rippled with refracted timelines. The Cloak of Levitation twisted in the dark like it had a mind of its own, sensing what he already knew. 

The multiverse was thinning.

He had bought them time. Bargained with forces most would not dare to name. 

But not even he could hold it back forever.

Something was coming.

And yet, inside the Watch Tower, somewhere high above the sleeping world, you stood still.

The night was cool. Not cold. The kind of air that carried the weight of something just ending… or just beginning.

Beside you, Johnny leaned against the balcony railing, eyes lifted to the sky like if he stared at it long enough, it would give him an answer. But the sky of this earth is not the same as his. His sky was silent now, while yours buzzed with the billions of lives whispering their fates tonight.

His fingers grazed yours until you reached out, and laced your hand with his.

His palm was warm. Still.

Like he hadn’t burned out after all.

Neither of you spoke. You didn’t need to.

Up above, constellations rearranged themselves across a canvas of unfamiliar stars. The stars that remembered had vanished. These ones will replace them.

The light that spilled through the dark was neither soft nor sharp, just changed.Like everything else.

Like you.

You weren’t the same person who had stepped onto this path months ago, heart half-missing, fractured by grief and memory.

He wasn’t the same man who had fallen through flame and guilt from a dying world.

But here you were.

Together.

Not whole in the way fairytales promised. But not broken, either.

Something else. Something real.

And whatever came next, whether it was a reckoning or a rebirth, you would meet it. Not with fear. Not with denial.

But with him.

His voice is hoarse when he finally speaks. “It still doesn’t feel real.”

“I know,” you say. “It might not. For a while.”

He nods, jaw clenched, eyes flickering with something unspoken. Not pain exactly. Not anymore. Just the shape of it. Something half-healed.

His voice came softly. Like a match striking in a quiet room.

“I keep wondering if we’re just dreaming again.”

You turned your head, eyes meeting his.

“If we are,” you said, “then don’t wake me.”

The silence between you grew thick, almost reverent.

And then, without a word, he rested his forehead against yours. Closing his eyes with a long exhale. 

He was here. With you.

Outside, the wind curled around the tower like a whisper from a future still unwritten.

Inside, you stayed like that, bodies to bodies, hand in hand. Breathing together.

One heartbeat. Two lives. No longer fleeing the past.

The stars kept changing. But you didn’t look away. Because this time, you weren’t alone.

And when the end came, or something new began, you would face it.

Not as the girl who ran. Not as the boy who burned. But as something whole. As something more.

You are the ferry.

The hand that reaches back.

The guide who brings the fire home.

You are the Son of Nyx.

And tonight, you brought him through.

End.

a/n: Hi! How are we? Are we good? Please dont hate me HAHA. The original draft was him dying okay. But I'm not that evil.

This had been pretty fun to write! I haven't felt this much joy in writing after years but Thunderbolts brought me back to life. I want to say thank you for showing love and support for this series! I hope to write more longer fics in the future.

And of course we don't know whats going to happen in Doomsday and if you're wondering, FF:FS was set in 1960s and the Thunderbolts are in 2020s. While writing this I researched about how were they going to connect the time allignment and I came across this interview and article.

So this cleared up the timeline confusion.

If I am still writing by next year, you can remind me to make a continuation of this series! But we know damn well everyone is going to die in the end...

Now, let me nerd out with the title of this fic and how it relates to the storyline of you and Johnny because I CAN AND OH? YOU'RE TIED TO THE CHAIR?? NOW YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME!!!

1. Star and night themed: I'm a little Percy Jackson nerd right, hence the Greek mythology reference. And Hozier is the perfect artist for me to hyperfixate on the lyrics of his songs. Welcome I, Carrion and Son of Nyx.

2. Nyx is the goddess of the night. And the son of Nyx is Charron. The ferryman who guides the souls across the River Styx. In this part of the finale, you are the ferryman. You are guiding Johnny and his family transitioning from a dead world to a new life. But this life is also uncertain with the looming threat of the multiversal war that's going to happen in Doomsday. For now, you're on the boat with Johnny, flowing down the River. To where? I don't know. We need to wait until next year.

3. Again, thank you for reading the whole series and reading this rambling until the end! THANK YOU FOR 300 TOO OMG <3

Bye bye~

tags for this series: @theswingingsixtiess @imaginecrushes @saphhireplums @you-makeme-crazier @iguessiwritenow @thefandomplace @sadslasher13 @lafrone @sunnshinie @skyfallslayer @hcneyiced @starsanarchy @jenaatje @lazybot @sasukexnaruto333 @tootstoots @luckyplums1 @itevilhag @starry-night-lover1 @giona45-5 @mcdugglelol @aesthetic-reader413 @ridinnjeanssdichhhh @aureliaborea @random-fangirl001 @oceaneblvd @ponyosmom35 @daylabxg @bonnie-tz @scarlett-witchh @defenestracjaem @sorryimstupidrn @dearmarvel @radiantdanvers @damnzelsoul @dearwalker @narikang @ibelyss @piastri-pages @pick95 @itevilhag @moonsficrec @mcdugglelol

tags for all fics: @lady-violet

[verathena14]

sooo i may be working on making a bunch of aa cats... oops :3 this first batch is phoenix, some of the feys, and the trilogy prosecutors (except payne because i dont ljke him /lh)

(its funny cuz when i got into aa i was like "im good enough at drawing humans now, im not gonna make cat versions of them! aaaand here we are)

ALSO! if youre new here, this is what i do lmaoooo i take human characters and i zap em with the cat-o-matic (not to be confused with the cat-flap-o-mat, that's not in this trilogy)

a lot of thought went into these designs, so i have details below the cut cuz some of them go into spoilers

Phoenix: I wanted him to be kinda blueish, as a reference to his signature blue suit. He's kinda stocky, with large paws. He's got very spiky fur on the back of his head, to replicate his signature hairstyle, and though the design is based on trilogy!phoenix, I gave him the little stray strand of hair from his aa5 (i think) design. I will admit, I kinda stole the badge-collar from another catified ace attorney design for him I saw, but I don't remember whose it was. His markings are pretty simple, and he's got a white heart-shape on his chest as a nod to the warrior name I gave him. And of course, he's got the little mouth scar from eating glass.

Maya: I wanted the Feys to be very visually distinct from everyone else, so I decided that the Feys would all have complex tabby patterns and distinctive curls in their fur shapes. Maya's Warriors name, Lilacpaw, inspired the shape of the tabby markings, as they form almost petal-shapes. She's purple-tinted, both as a nod to her AU name as well as to the purple medium outfit. The small star on her chest symbolizes her status as the Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique.

Pearl: Like Maya, she is very fluffy and has curly fur. Her large ears are both a way to keep her looking young and cute, and simultaneously represent her human verson's hair loops. However, unlike Maya, her tabby stripes are fairly basic, and will develop into a more distinctive pattern with age.

Mia: Unlike Maya, who has a very short and fluffy form, Mia is taller, more slender, and her fluffy bits are relatively concentrated in certain areas, like her chest. This is done in order to show how she has left the Fey clan, but she still retains elements of the Fey signatures, as she has not completely cut ties with them. She pins her attorney's badge on her scarf, and her magatama is partially hidden by her chest fluff. Design-wise, she and her mother Misty are very similar.

Misty: Regarding the hairdo, I honestly had no idea how to translate it to something that would make sense for a cat, so I decided to abandon realism and just give her the same hair. As mentioned previously, she has a similar design to Mia, to symbolize how they both left the Fey clan. Her tabby stripes are wispy, referencing her name Mistystar. The star on her chest is partially hidden, symbolizing her attempts as Elise Deauxnim to hide her true identity.

Miles: Miles' design is fairly simple, as the main idea behind his design was to strike a balance between him sharing some of the von Karmas' traits while still remaining distinct from them. His chest, like the von Karmas', is very fluffy, as a reference to his cravat-jabot thing. The darker coloring under his eyes is meant to resemble eye bags, since he often suffers from nightmares. His Warriors name, Winterheart, is also significant, with a double meaning. The more obvious one is that he is distant and cold to others (especially early aa1), with a "cold heart." The second one is a reference to the DL-6 incident, which happened during December, and changed him as a person forever. One could speculate that he took on a new name under von Karma's tutelage, in order to ensure he didn't forget the incident.

Manfred: Yes these are out of order, but to understand Franziska's design one must understand Manfred's design. The von Karmas are designed as blue-grey colorpoint longhair cats, purebreds, as a nod to Manfred's obsession with perfection. They have tall ears, long tails, and sleek fur. Manfred has the same fluffy chest as Miles, referencing his cravat. The small scar on his shoulder is again a reference to the DL-6 incident, but it is mostly covered with the fluffy chest fur. His name, Thundersnap, is inspired by his commanding presence, and how in-game, his snap quiets the whole courtroom, as well as the scene where he straight-up tazes Phoenix and Maya.

Franziska: Her design much mirrors her father's, with the same tall ears and fluffy chest. Her chest fur differs from Miles and Manfred's, however, since she wears a large bow instead of a cravat. The dark patch on her back has two meanings; the first is a simple reference to her black vest. The second is a mar on Manfred's perfection; her markings are not expected of a purebred colorpoint, symbolizing her struggle to achieve a level of perfection like her father. Another point about her design is that she is slender, but with large fluffy parts, in order to make herself look bigger. She does this in-game too, with her puffy shoulders and large cuffs.

Godot: Out of the prosecutors, Godot's design was probably the easiest for me. I wanted him to be a white cat, but with bits of dark brown as a remnant of Diego Armando, and also because somehow his beard didn't turn white when the rest of his hair did. His eyes are drawn differently than my usual style, showing how his eyesight is very poor behind the mask. Also Redmask isnt his real name, he just chose it to be edgy & to conceal his identity

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday & Pick A Prompt

Tagged by @josephseedismyfather

Tagging @inafieldofdaisies @noodlecupcakes @imogenkol @direwombat @voidika @raresvtm @socially-awkward-skeleton @adelaidedrubman @josephslittledeputy @cassietrn @g0dspeeed @aceghosts @cloudofbutterflies92 @derelictheretic @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard @yokobai and @chazz-anova + anyone else who'd like to join.

Music for The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters and a song for An Old Ballad of Chance and Ember Hearts Original Trilogy which also reveals the potential titles of the three Original Works. Also a tag meme regarding personal preferences in regards to prompts. You can listen below the cut:

When it comes to romantic pairings in both my Elden Ring WIPs Weave The Threads of Blood and By The Gold of Grace (from my The Silver Chronicles series), the two main focuses are Chiwa & Selke and Logan & Melina, respectively. However, in Weave The Threads of Blood, there is another relationship that does get a good amount of focus as well. That being the relationship between my Hero Tarnished Nylah, Hero of Lyndell, and our favorite scheming demigoddess, Lunar Princess Ranni. Nylah and Ranni first meet at the Church of Elleh where Ranni delivers Chiwa some spirits to aid Melina's accord partner. At first they're on differing ideals; Nylah believes Queen Marika and the Golden Order are fundamentally good, while Ranni despises the Golden Order and the Two Finger's influence, trying to leave the Lands Between for free will. It isn't until after Nylah starts traveling with Chiwa and her companions (which include Boc, Torrent, Melina and Godrick, with more to come) that Nylah starts seeing the cracks in her rose-tinted glasses, especially after getting entangled with Rogier's quest in finding out the culprit behind Godwyn's assassination (and therefore the start of the Shattering) and encountering Margit in a very infected Lyndell where he reveals the truth to the former hero of the city. Nylah soon enough abandons her quest to be Elden Lord and starts aiding Ranni along with Selke, and by extension Chiwa. Ranni and Nylah get closer as time goes on, leading Nylah to fall for the Lunar Princess, and subsequently Ranni can't keep the woman who'd literally fight a star and the vessel of death itself to achieve her goals out of her mind, especially when Nylah makes it abundantly clear she will journey with Ranni on the princess's self-imposed fate of solitude, darkness and fear in the stars.

"Think I can fly Think I can fly when I'm with you My arms are wide Catching fire as the wind blows I know that I'm rich enough for pride I see a billion dollars in your eyes Even if we're strangers till we die

I wanna run away I wanna run away Anywhere out this place I wanna run away Just you and I, I, I, I, I You and I, I, I, I, I You and I, I, I, I, I You and I, I, I, I, I Just you and I

You and I, I, I, I, I You and I, I, I, I, I You and I, I, I, I, I You and I, I, I, I, I

I wanna run Chase the moon and sun when I'm with you Give it all away Catching fire as the wind blows I know that I'm rich enough for pride I see a billion dollars in your eyes Even if we're strangers till we die!

I wanna run away I wanna run away Anywhere out this place I wanna run away Just you and I, I, I, I, I You and I, I, I, I, I You and I, I, I, I, I You and I, I, I, I, I Just you and I!"

Next up is a little about my Poppy Playtime WIP (which has a little crossover mix with Wednesday and DDLC due to Wenclair and Natsuri making a presence), Enter The Toybox! from my Life, Despair & Monsters series. Angel Wright, former employee of Playtime Co., returns to the company factory a decade after their co-workers went missing, lured in by the possibility those they worked with could still be alive. Only to discover the toys are more alive than they appeared to be. While trying to save the children from the likes of Harley Sawyer, the Prototype and one vile Frederick Rosemary (who had been digging a tunnel to connect his own shut down factory with Playtime Co.'s), Angel Wright must also confront the missing patches of horrific memories that shadow them.

"So I walked into the haze And a million dirty waves Now I see you lying there Like a lilo losing air, air Black rocks and shoreline sands Still, that summer I cannot bare And I wipe the sand from my eyes The Spanish Sahara, the place that you'd wanna Leave the horror here

Forget the horror here Forget the horror here Leave it all down here It's future rust and it's future dust Forget the horror here Forget the horror here Leave it all down here It's future rust and it's future dust

Now the waves, they drag you down Carry you to broken ground Now I find you in the sand Wipe you clean with dirty hands So goddamn this boiling space The Spanish Sahara, the place that you'd wanna Leave the horror here

Forget the horror here Forget the horror here Leave it all down here It's future rust and it's future dust

I'm the fury in your head I'm the fury in your bed I'm the ghost in the back of your head 'Cause I am I'm the fury in your head I'm the fury in your bed I'm the ghost in the back of your head 'Cause I am I'm the fury in your head I'm the fury in your bed I'm the ghost in the back of your head 'Cause I am!"

Lastly a song for my original WIP trilogy, An Old Ballad of Chance and Ember Hearts, which is a trilogy exploring the love, life, deaths and afterlife of Jade Smith and Jasmine Rafiq after the events of Wings And Horns, turning out to be the first pair of humans to ever travel the Omniscience's multiverse. Also revealing the names and some plot of the three original works of this trilogy: the first WIP may be titled A Ballad of Nebulae and the Cosmos, where Jade and Jasmine, while trying to redefine their romance without the pressures of the Soulmate System in place, discover breaches from their world to many other variants, though are harassed by a trio of fifth-generation Kin for their troubles; that being Noir, Nova and Noa, Kin with a direct connection with stars and the cosmos and everything related to space. Second WIP is potentially called The Chance To Dance With Death (though I am very much reconsidering this), where Jade and Jasmine's travels lead them with meeting one of the surviving house's of the Old God's, the House of Thanatos, although Jade and Jasmine also encounter Rouske, whose goals are far from benevolent. And finally To Shadow After An Ember Heart where Jade makes it to the Afterlife, and with the guidance of Tyche, the God of Chance, looks for Jasmine so they can finally reincarnate together, though the recently revived Mad Kin of Carnage, Discord, seeks to destroy the Wheel of Reincarnation.

"The clouds are sculptures made of water The water washed away the pain Somehow the colors fade to nothing

When eyes are wide They try to hide all the gravel in the ocean

Wander with the butterflies Walk out in the daylight Water the eyes Holding on to hurricanes Wonder at the night sky Run out of the daylight Water the ice Holding on to hurricanes

The mountain moves a little further The river washed away the rain Somehow the flowers fall in daisy chains

Door to door Forget me not All the petals in the ocean

(Wander with the butterflies Walk out in the daylight Water the eyes Holding on to hurricanes!)

Wonder at the night sky Run out of the daylight Water the ice Holding on to hurricanes Holding on to hurricanes Holding on to hurricanes

Holding on to hurricanes!"

And lastly a prompt meme where I highlight my personal preferences, that the lovely @josephseedismyfather tagged me in:

coffee shop or flower girl | au or fix-it | enemies to lovers or childhood friends | angst or fluff | love at first sight or pining | modern au or historical au | break up & make up or proposal & wedding | get together or established relationship | soulmates or unrequited | fake dating or secret dating | obvious pining or domestic fluff | hurt/comfort or crack | meet the parents or meet cute

Probably not supposed to do this but I don't see any rules that say I can't so... Also note some of the reasoning here isn't supposed to be taken too seriously because you are sure to find me implementing a few of the tropes I dislike into my fics and WIPs.

Nothing wrong with coffee shop settings, but I have more experience with writing characters in a flower shop setting. Same with AUs, I love (most) AUs, but given the choice, I want to feel joy, so fix-it is my go-to choice. Enemies to Lovers is pretty self-explanatory, two people that hate each others guts (with a little slice of attempted murder on both parties parts) is gonna have me more intrigued than childhood friendships, even if I do enjoy the latter. As much as I do love traumatizing characters myself and the flavorsome drama that comes with angst, much for the same reason for choosing fix-it's, I will choose fluff. Love at First Sight is a scam, give me some slow burn pining so I can join the side characters in yelling and groaning in unison at the main couple's shenanigans. Modern AUs are interesting on paper, but I am yet to find more that gets me hooked... Historical AUs are really wild and I learn a thing or two as well. I can't deal with make up and break up, I've seen and read too many mediums that just break my trust in the trope, so it's gonna be proposal and wedding for me because you can get creative with that (my favorite proposal and wedding is Ranni's from Elden Ring; you have to fight a literal star to get her a murder weapon that she uses on one of god's emissaries for her hand in marriage, in which you can get a cool sword). Don't mind established relationship, but lean towards getting together. I absolutely am devastated by Unrequited Love... but I'd choose that over Soulmate AUs any other day, thank you very much. As funny as Fake Dating is, Secret Dating is funnier in my opinion. I'm a sucker for domestic fluff, sorry obvious pining. Hurt/Comfort is an art I am a practitioner of but Crack is going to make me laugh, especially when it's Crack taken seriously. Love meet the parents, but I'm going to give Meet Cute a win here.