#*risks his life to save her from drowning*

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.

I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.

Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!

two souls, one heart | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture

notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3

A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.

The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.

Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.

Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...

"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."

"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.

....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...

"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.

"Yes!"

You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.

"Oh really?"

Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.

...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.

"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.

He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.

Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.

Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.

He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.

A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'

For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.

Wiress had been murdered.

The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.

The Careers had initiated an attack.

Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.

Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.

Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.

A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.

It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.

And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.

Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.

"NO! NO!"

There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.

Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.

Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?

Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning

At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.

Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.

Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.

You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.

**********

Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.

But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.

Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...

He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.

"No," he whispered again.

It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.

He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.

"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."

Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.

"Breathe."

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.

Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.

Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"

"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."

The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.

"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.

Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.

Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.

A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.

It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.

Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.

"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."

Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.

Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.

"I love you."

And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.

**********

There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.

In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.

The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.

Your heart.

The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.

"I love you."

Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.

There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.

As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.

"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."

Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.

The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.

Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.

Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."

He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.

His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.

In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."

Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.

But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.

Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.

Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."

[ranna-alga]

I just realised something from the TLOU gameplay that made me so depressed that I needed to share with you all.

Rewind back to the prologue where Sarah is dying, and we see Joel look away from her a total of two times before she dies: the first time is at the same moment the camera pans to solely Tommy, of whom Joel is looking at (first image). Before he is out of shot, Joel can just be seen looking to Sarah again, until the camera turns back to him where he looks away a second time towards Tommy again (second image).

Now, if you go and listen to the audio of the actual scene itself, you'll notice that the second time he looks away is when Sarah draws her last breath and passes away. She's already dead now.

And Joel missed it by looking away for only a second.

The second time he looks away and then looks back at Sarah, she is already gone. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't look into her eyes, still filled with life (albeit hanging on a thread) anymore before becoming absolutely soulless because he missed it. He didn't see the light leave her, he didn’t see her succumb to the bullet wound where she would move on to no longer feel anymore pain in death. He missed it almost instantly. His last good look of her is after the second time he looked away, when she's already passed on.

But then we fast-forward to the very near end of the game where Joel is trying to perform CPR on Ellie after she almost drowned. He's becoming mentally and emotionally frantic because he cannot lose another one and projects this by trying to resuscitate her. He is back to where he was twenty years prior trying to save Sarah. And then the Fireflies appear.

Joel looks away from Ellie one time. He probably doesn’t even realise that these are Fireflies (they could have been Hunters or even FEDRA for all he cared). The look on his face in the second image is heart-breaking, but it only lasts for a second before he immediately looks down to Ellie.

He only looks up at them once. He doesn’t look up a second time.

Again, if you watch the original scene with audio enabled, you can hear the shakiness in Joel's voice, almost tearfully and very much coming from a place of fear. He's literally pleading for Ellie to wake up, all the while keeping his eyes on her - not looking up again - not even with one of the Firefly soldiers approaching him with an armed weapon.

He can't look away a second time because the last time he did, he lost Sarah immediately. He fears that will happen again, but he cannot let that occur. He won't. Not with Ellie: his second chance, his new reason to live, his new love. Joel refuses to tear his eyes away from her, even for another second, if it risks her life suddenly slipping away before he could even realise it.

He cannot afford to have another daughter lay lifeless in his arms and have her drift off to a place where he cannot follow and protect her anymore, even if it means placing his own life on the line.

[hezuart]

LN Channel Change AU Sequel: “Seven” {1} {2} {3} {here/final}

And they lived happily ever after. Or did they? We've established our main characters Mono (TV/space-time) and Six (Soul Sucking) have strange supernatural powers. I wanted Seven to have one too. (Hydrokinesis aka water bending)

Notes for how I came up with Seven's powers and the deeper meaning behind his interaction with Mono:

1. Each child has nightmare prophecies (something to do with Mono's time loop?)  at the beginning of their stories. Six's is the Lady, Mono's is the door that leads to the Thin Man, and Seven's is being pulled underwater. Six and Mono's nightmare visions are fulfilled at the end of their stories; revealing that the thing they dreamed about, they essentially become or usurp.  Seven's differs. His dream resolves in act 1 and he kills the Granny, the creature assumed to be the one pulling him underwater in his nightmare. But what if Seven's dream prophecy was still valid... even post-Granny? Being dragged underwater... for a different fate?

2. Seven is the only main cast character shown with the ability to swim. 3. "Seven Seas" anyone? Water is a symbol of purification & life, hence, Seven gains his new powers after he survived and Mono broke the timeline loop to start fresh. "Washing it away" so to say. 4. Water is a liquid; passive in nature, but powerful in circumstance. Seven is kind and sneaky but kills the Granny when continuously attacked and threatened by her. He does the same to the Octopus monster.

5. Water molecules have adhesion and cohesion, meaning water likes to stick to itself, and stick to other things. Seven has an attachment to Nomes. He is always drawn to other people and other creatures, wanting to help them. His belief is that survival chances are higher amidst a group. Water is also known for containing life, no matter how strange or deep, such as ocean fish that often travel in schools/packs often to confuse or fight off predators, thus, another reference to Seven's new life, and his teamwork with Nomes and Mono.

6. Seven is often in fandom depicted by a circle. A water droplet. 7. Seven collects flotsam; typically boat debris, but in this case, bottled messages that come from the sea. Yet another connection to water.

All this indicates heavy implication and well-fitting power to bestow hydrokinesis onto Seven. I was inspired by the INSIDE game's drowning chapter and Stanley and Stanford's secret boat hide-out on the beach from Gravity Falls. Which is why I have selected Mono, Seven, and all their future friends to a lovely and sunny (future) beach house, far away from everything they've suffered. And living near the largest body of water on the planet with a kid with hydrokinesis? ...Certainly has its perks!

But Seven gaining powers is important to not only their survival but also him. He was still nervous about Mono. He knew Mono was very powerful and mysterious. In more ways than one. Mono is stronger than him and can also use telekinesis on objects on the beach. He's a better food hunter and seems more like a leader. Seven also likes to lead, but he felt outshined by Mono. (I don't portray that well in my comic) Seven is weaker and defenseless. His only shining quality in comparison is his ability to swim, but even that can only get him so far. He risks his life for his Nome friends and loses his life doing so. Or so he thought. By a miracle, his powers over water awaken. He drains the monster of its water, beaching it. He walks to Mono in a new light. It's a new him. He holds up his hands as if to say "See? I'm like you now." He's leveled the playing field. (It also helps that he now has jurisdiction over power Mono cannot interact with) Now they are truly equal. Two kings; one of land, one of sea, both ruling the island in equal standing. Seven will never again feel like a burden left behind. (Seven's powers activating also has something to do with the fact he bit the Octopus creature to save the Nome. Mono and Six both consume their powerful prophesized enemies to gain some of their power, if they didn't already have some before. Seven biting into the Octopus's flesh and unknowingly consuming some of it may have jumpstarted his power deep within him, on top of him encountering Mono; supernatural kid extraordinaire that brought him through a tower wormhole to escape the city)

~~~

A threequel is planned, and maybe the last addition to this series, but the next one is not fully fleshed out yet so it may be another year until I can really touch upon it yet. Otherwise, hope you guys enjoyed!

[imaginesforfandom]

A Wolverine's Heartache - Part III

Part I Part II

i'm so sorry it took so long for me to post this!! i've been drowning in work :,(

Logan/James Howlett x Reader

She/Her pronouns used!!

Summary: Logan struggles after seeing a person he loves alive. Will he be able to save her?

In the moments leading up to Logan's journey back in time, the Xavier Institute was a hub of frantic activity, a beacon of hope in the face of impending doom. The threat of the Sentinels loomed large, casting a shadow of fear and uncertainty over the mutant community.

Logan, haunted by the memory of Y/N's tragic death and driven by a desperate need to prevent further loss, had become the linchpin in a daring plan to alter the course of history. With the help of Professor Xavier and a handful of trusted allies, Logan prepared to embark on a mission that would defy the very fabric of time itself.

The decision to send Logan back in time was not made lightly. It required sacrifices – sacrifices that weighed heavily on the hearts of those left behind. Yet, in the face of imminent destruction, there was no room for hesitation.

As Logan stood before the makeshift time-travel device, his resolve hardened like steel. The weight of his mission bore down on him, a burden he carried with grim determination. He knew the risks – the possibility of altering the timeline, of facing enemies both old and new – but the chance to rewrite history and save those he loved was a gamble he was willing to take.

Before he could second-guess himself, Logan braced himself for the journey ahead. With a final glance at his comrades, a silent promise etched in his eyes, he stepped into the swirling vortex of energy, disappearing into the unknown depths of the past.

In that pivotal moment, the fate of the world hung in the balance. For Logan, it was a journey fraught with peril and uncertainty, but it was also a journey fueled by hope – hope for redemption, for a chance to right the wrongs of the past, and for a future where Y/N's death would be nothing more than a distant memory.

As Logan's consciousness shifted through time, propelled back to a pivotal moment before the devastation wrought by the Sentinels, a sense of urgency gripped him like a vice. His mission was clear: to prevent the cataclysmic events that had led to Y/N's tragic demise.

Arriving in the past, Logan found himself in a world that was both familiar and yet subtly different. The Xavier Institute bustled with life, its halls alive with the laughter of students and the gentle hum of telepathic conversations. But for Logan, it was a world tinged with sorrow, a reminder of the losses he had endured.

As he navigated the bustling corridors, searching for allies to aid him in his quest, Logan's heart quickened at the thought of encountering Y/N. She existed in this timeline, vibrant and alive, yet unaware of the role she would play in shaping their shared destiny.

When Logan finally came face to face with Y/N, his breath caught in his throat. She was different here – a younger version of the person he had known, her features softened by innocence and untainted by the scars of war. And yet, there was an undeniable familiarity in her presence, a connection that transcended the boundaries of time.

As their eyes met, Logan felt a surge of emotions wash over him – longing, regret, and a fierce determination to protect her at all costs. In that fleeting moment, he saw echoes of the Y/N he had lost, a reminder of the bond they had shared across time and space.

But for Y/N, Logan was a stranger – a mysterious figure with haunted eyes and a sense of purpose that seemed to emanate from his very being. And yet, there was something in his gaze, a depth of emotion that stirred something within her – a feeling she couldn't quite place.

As Logan reached out to Y/N, his hand trembling with the weight of unspoken truths, he knew that convincing her to join him would be no easy task. But for Y/N, Logan's presence ignited a spark of curiosity, a whisper of destiny that beckoned her towards a future she could not yet fathom.

As Logan stood before the younger version of Y/N, his heart clenched with a mixture of emotions – longing, regret, and an urgent sense of purpose. He knew that convincing her of the impending danger would be no easy task, especially considering she had no recollection of their shared history.

Y/N regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice tinged with a hint of defiance.

Logan took a deep breath, steeling himself for the difficult task ahead. "I know this is hard to believe, but you need to listen to me. I'm from the future, and I've seen what happens if we don't act now."

Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief, a scoff escaping her lips. "From the future? That's impossible. Why should I trust you?"

Logan knew he had to choose his words carefully, to break through the wall of skepticism that surrounded her. "I know this is a lot to take in, but I've seen the devastation caused by the Sentinels. They've hunted us down, taken everything from us. If we don't stop them now, there won't be a future for any of us."

Y/N's expression softened slightly, but her hesitation remained palpable. "And why should I believe you? You could be anyone, spinning tales to manipulate me."

Logan's jaw tightened with frustration, but he forced himself to remain calm. He understood her skepticism – after all, he was asking her to believe in the impossible. "I understand your doubts, but you have to trust me. Lives are at stake here, including yours. We need to work together to stop this."

Y/N's gaze flickered with uncertainty, torn between disbelief and a nagging sense of curiosity. She wanted to dismiss Logan's words as the ramblings of a madman, but there was something in his eyes – a depth of sincerity that gave her pause.

As Logan pleaded with her to heed his warning, Y/N felt a surge of conflicting emotions wash over her – fear, anger, and a flicker of hope. In that moment of uncertainty, she grappled with the weight of the decision before her, knowing that the fate of the world rested in her hands – and in the hands of the enigmatic stranger who claimed to hold the key to their salvation.

The moment hung suspended in time, a fragile balance between doubt and determination. Y/N stood before Logan, her gaze locked with his, uncertainty etched into the lines of her face. Logan's plea echoed in the air, a whispered promise of redemption and salvation, and for a fleeting instant, Y/N hesitated.

But then, something shifted within her – a spark of resolve that ignited in the depths of her soul. It was a quiet realization, born from the depths of her own courage and fueled by the unwavering belief that together, they could make a difference.

With a steadying breath, Y/N met Logan's gaze, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging within her. "Alright. I'll help you."

The words hung in the air like a beacon of hope, a testament to the strength of her conviction. In that moment, a weight lifted from Logan's shoulders, replaced by a surge of gratitude and relief. He had expected resistance, perhaps even outright rejection, but Y/N's willingness to trust him filled him with a sense of purpose unlike anything he had ever known.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the tension reached its peak in the crowded conference room, Logan and Y/N moved with precision and determination, their eyes locked in silent communication. They had trained for this moment, prepared for the pivotal role they would play in altering the course of history.

Amidst the chaos, Mystique, disguised as a government official, made her move, her gun trained on Trask, the architect of the Sentinel program. But before she could pull the trigger, Logan sprang into action, his instincts honed by years of combat.

With a swift motion, he intercepted Mystique's shot, deflecting the bullet away from its intended target. The room erupted into chaos as panic spread like wildfire, but Logan remained focused, his gaze never wavering from Mystique's determined form.

Beside him, Y/N moved with a grace and precision that belied her years, her powers weaving through the air like a symphony of light and shadow. With a flick of her wrist, she immobilized Mystique, her telekinetic abilities holding her captive in a shimmering cocoon of energy.

As the dust settled and order was restored, Logan and Y/N shared a fleeting glance, a silent acknowledgment of the pivotal role they had played in preventing catastrophe. In that moment, the bond between them deepened, forged in the crucible of adversity.

But as they stood amidst the aftermath of their actions, a sense of uncertainty lingered in the air. The future remains uncertain, and the threat of the Sentinels still loomed large. Yet, for the first time in a long time, Logan allowed himself to feel a glimmer of hope – a hope that with Y/N by his side, they could face whatever challenges lay ahead, together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Logan's consciousness shifted back to the future, his senses reeled from the disorienting transition. The world around him was a blur of chaos and destruction, the aftermath of the battle against the Sentinels evident in the smoldering ruins that surrounded him. But amidst the devastation, one sight stood out like a beacon of light in the darkness.

There, among the ragged survivors, stood Y/N – her presence a ray of hope amidst the despair. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Logan's gaze locked onto her familiar form, his heart swelling with a mixture of relief and gratitude.

Without hesitation, he moved towards her, his steps fueled by an overwhelming urge to reach her side. As he drew closer, their eyes met, and in that instant, a flood of emotions washed over him – longing, regret, and a fierce determination to protect her at all costs.

Unable to resist any longer, Logan closed the distance between them in a single stride, his arms enveloping Y/N in a tight embrace. It was a gesture born from the depths of his soul, a silent vow to never let her go again.

In that poignant moment, as Logan's arms enveloped Y/N in a tight embrace amidst the wreckage of their war-torn world, a whirlwind of emotions stirred within him, threatening to overwhelm his senses.

First and foremost was an overwhelming sense of relief – relief that Y/N was alive and standing before him, a beacon of hope amidst the devastation. The mere sight of her, her presence a comforting reminder of their shared history and the bond they had forged, filled his heart with a profound sense of gratitude.

But alongside relief, there was also a deep-seated longing – a longing for the lost time, for the moments they had shared before the world had descended into chaos. Seeing Y/N again awakened a flood of memories, memories of laughter and camaraderie, of unspoken connections and shared moments that now felt like distant echoes in the wake of tragedy.

Mixed with longing was a potent undercurrent of regret – regret for the pain and suffering they had endured, for the lives lost and the futures stolen. Logan couldn't help but wonder if there was more he could have done, if he could have somehow prevented the devastation that had torn them apart.

Yet, amidst the tumult of emotions, there was also a fierce determination – a determination to protect Y/N at all costs, to ensure that she would never again face the horrors of war alone. In that moment, as he held her close, Logan made a silent vow to do whatever it took to keep her safe, to carve out a future where they could finally find peace.

And underlying it all was a profound sense of love – a love that transcended time and space, a love that had endured despite the odds. In Y/N's arms, Logan found solace amidst the chaos, a glimmer of hope in a world consumed by darkness.

After the embrace had ended, Logan held onto Y/N's hands tightly, his gaze locking with hers with a newfound intensity. In that moment, the weight of his unspoken emotions pressed heavily upon him, urging him to finally lay bare the truth that had long been buried within his heart.

"Y/N," he began, his voice rough with emotion, "I… I need you to know something. I've been a fool, blind to what's been right in front of me all along."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her heart fluttering with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. She waited with bated breath as Logan continued, his words carrying the weight of a lifetime's worth of regrets.

"I love you, Y/N," Logan confessed, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with an undeniable sincerity. "I've loved you for longer than I care to admit, but I was too damn stubborn to see it. I let my fears and insecurities cloud my judgment, and for that, I'm sorry."

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes at Logan's confession, her heart swelling with a rush of emotions she could hardly comprehend. In that moment, the walls she had built around her heart crumbled, leaving her vulnerable but unafraid.

"Logan," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion, "I love you too. I've loved you for as long as I can remember, but I was too afraid to say it. Too afraid of what it might mean, of what we might lose."

Their hands tightened around each other's, a silent vow passing between them. In that shared moment of vulnerability, Logan and Y/N laid bare their hearts, their love for each other a beacon of hope in a world shrouded in darkness.

And as they stood together, tears mingling with smiles, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as they were together, they would face them with unwavering courage and unyielding love. For in each other's arms, they had found a home – a sanctuary amidst the chaos, where their love could flourish and grow stronger with each passing day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

again, i'm so sorry it took me so long!!! this term has been so exhausting :,(

i really hope you guys liked the final part!! i hadn't meant to make it this long but i got a little carried away lol. i know it's not fully canon to the movies, sorry bout that.

[ereana]

Neuvillette X Furina - Sure you can use me as a pillow

Furina can’t breathe.

Everyone is staring at her.

The president of the Spina di Rosula watches her carefully, the triumphant expression fading with every step she takes towards the basin. Navia, she remembers with sudden clarity; the woman is called Navia and she is from Poisson.

Of course.

The click of her heels echoes loudly in the Opera Epicles even amidst the loud rumbling of the spectators.

“Is she really going to do it?”

“Well she has to, doesn't she?

“You actually think she isn’t a god?”

“I mean, it doesn’t look good for her does it?

No. No. No.

She can’t let so many centuries of work go to waste. Not when so much is at stake. Not when ‘mirror-me’ is still working on a way to save everyone. It would be too cruel for it to end this way. 

The show must go on.

She looks down into the water, the vibrant purple tinge would be almost pretty if it didn’t promise her death. She wonders if dissolving will be more or less painful than the performance she’s poured her entire existence into. She doubts it will be more, there’s so little of her left after wearing a mask for so long that comparatively it has to be less.

From above she hears him.

“Due to the inherent risk of the test, Lady Furina, you may—”

She plunges her hand into the water, unwilling to hear him say anything else. Hurt and anger and an affection she tries so hard to keep hidden war for dominance in her chest. She can hear the worry in his voice even if no-one else can. How does he dare when he is the one who put her here?

Because he cares. A voice, small and fading, whispers in her mind. Because despite your lies he still cares and doesn’t want you to be harmed.

Her hand starts to burn. Her eyes snap down to the basin, watching in horror as her arm starts to melt. Heavy drops of water start to splash into the basin - it’s her, she’s the water - and she doesn’t even have time to scream before she’s drowning. Water in her lungs. Her nose. Her eyes. Her throat.

Her painfully human heart gives one last beat.

No!

She doesn’t….

Someone cries out her name as the familiar sound of rain hitting the roof echoes throughout the hall.

She doesn’t want to die without ever truly living.

“No!” Furina yells. Her voice is thick with desperation and fear. “No, please!”

Water. She can feel it on her face. She can’t breathe from the tightness in her chest. Her world is crashing down around her and she has failed.

“Someone…anyone…” she pleads desperately. It’s hopeless. No-one has ever answered her cries before. They echo in her ears alone. She shuts her eyes tightly against the pain.

“-dy Furina.”

Alone. Alone forever on the throne she never wanted, crying for her people that she couldn’t save.

“-rina, listen to me..”

Failure of an archon. Failure as a leader. Failure as a human. 

If her one life could have saved them she would have given it gladly. One life for thousands? Set it against the scales and see the obvious choice.

“...nightmare, please…”

But her life wasn’t worth that much. Not to Celestia. Not to her people. Not to—

There’s a hand on her cheek. It’s cool to the touch but heavy and real. She knows this hand. Furina covers it with her own and grips it tightly. An anchor for her to steady herself  while the world spins around her.

“Breathe.”

A plea. She’s not used to hearing him make those. The single word threatens to burst with everything he’s trying to convey. Her dear Iudex, always struggling for the right words to convey his true feelings.

Furina breathes. She hears him inhale with her. Every breath loosens the knot of terror in her chest a little more until she has the strength to open her eyes.

Neuvillette is there to meet her gaze when she does. There is no chance to see anything else, there is only him and the anguish on his face as he watches her calm down. Furina throws herself into his arms.

They open immediately for her, crushing her against his chest as he shields her from the shadows of her own mind. He says nothing as she buries her head into his shirt and cries out the rest of her fear.

His arms are like steel bands around her shoulders and waist but she knows he would release her instantly if she asked him to. Just as she knows if she asked him to hold her forever he would. 

In this moment Furina is the safest person in all of Fontaine, perhaps even all of Teyvat as the power to control the very oceans themselves surrounds her in a protective embrace.

It takes a few minutes for her to calm down. She doesn’t dare look at him as shame rises to replace terror.

“I’m sorr—”

“Don’t.” He cuts her off, sharply but not unkindly. “You never have to apologize to me, not for anything.” Neuvillette reminds her.

If she were in a better state of mind she would say something about the way his words sound like an oath, whispered into the darkness for only her to hear. The reverence in his tone is blasphemous.

But right now she doesn’t care.

“Stay.” She asks, no eloquent rhetorical flourishes or theatrics to be heard only an honest rawness that makes him squeeze her tighter.

“As you wish, Furina.” Neuvillette murmurs and she lets out a sigh of relief, trusting him to watch over her even in her dreams as exhaustion pulls her to sleep once more.

She flicks one last look at him before slumber takes her. He’s staring down at her with his usual stoic expression but his eyes…oh his eyes are beautiful. Shining with an emotion she’s still too nervous to put a name to.

Her dragon is here and she is safe.

[riordanness]

cardigan — [e.pevensie]

wordcount: 1.5K

warnings: not technically x reader as ‘reader’ is named Belle

requested: no

“She won’t stop staring.”

“Then stop looking.”

Belle has to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the ridiculous Telmarine soldiers. They’re both clearly terrified of their mission, and are both riddled with anxiety about the entire thing. Which is hilarious.

“You could just let me go,” she says nonchalantly. “Save yourself the risk of aggravating the woods’ spirits.”

The Telmarine facing her gives her a glare. His grip on the sword across his lap tightens.

Belle decides to shut up.

“Here will do,” the other soldier says, the oars in his hands slowing. “Let's just dump her and get it over with.”

The soldiers get to their feet unsteadily. The boat rocks, and Belle wonders what would happen if she tried to tip all three of them into the water. But before she can come up with a good way to execute that plan, the Telmarine snatches her up, grabbing her roughly by the arm.

“Drop them!” An unfamiliar female voice rings out, and stories of ghosts in the woods run through Belle’s mind. She half turns, and just has time to see four figures on the shore before she’s dropped, literally, into the cold water.

Bubbles surround Belle, and she’s disoriented instantly. Her bound wrists make it impossible to swim, so she sinks, struggling furiously to get loose. Her dress is heavy and sticking to her legs. Her chest is tightening, and black is crawling at the edges of her vision.

Then, something pulls at her, arms slide around her waist, and she is yanked out of the water. Belle gasps, practically drinking the air.

She’s pulled to shore, and laid down on the sand. Something cuts the ropes from her hands. She coughs for a second, getting her bearings back. Drowning was a very awful experience. Belle did not recommend it at all.

“Are you alright?” A girl’s voice asks her, a different one from before, younger.

Belle reacts, twisting as she rises, her dagger, which was previously concealed in her skirts, at the young girl’s throat within seconds.

Shouting erupts from behind them, and Belle glanced to see three others, two boys and an older girl, all with weapons at the ready. The girl has an arrow aimed at Belle’s heart, and both boys have their swords raised.

“Drop it,” the older boy tells her, and his voice is hard and commanding, like he’s used to giving orders.

The girl at Belle’s side doesn’t look particularly scared. “It’s okay,” she promises. “We’re friends.”

Belle narrows her eyes. “How would I know that?”

“Well,” the older girl says, “we did just save your life.”

“Actually, that was me.” It’s the younger boy this time. Belle focuses on him. He has dark hair that’s slightly curly and wet. He looks about her age, and his clothes are wet too. “Don’t worry,” he says to Belle. “We are friends. We won’t hurt you. Just please let Lucy go?”

Belle takes a step back from Lucy, still watching them all carefully. “Fine. Thanks for saving me. Bye.” She turns, but doesn’t even make it three steps before the older boy calls after her.

“Wait!”

She sighs, and looks at them.

“We don’t even know your name.” The older girl has her bow away now, but her eyes look plenty vicious enough for Belle. She doesn’t trust them; any of them.

“I’m Belle,” she says flatly. “Now can I go?”

“Why were they trying to drown you?” Lucy looks up at Belle, and her childlike innocence warms Belle’s heart. She has pretty eyes, too, Belle thinks, full of bravery and fearlessness and determination.

“Because I ran away from the castle where I was, well, a servant of sorts. Because I’m on the side of the true king. And because Miraz is a tyrant,” Belle says.

“Whoa Miraz?” the older boy asks.

Belle raises an eyebrow. “Where have you been living lately? Under a rock? He’s the sort of King? Of Narnia?”

“Narnia?” Lucy gasps. “So it is Narnia!”

Belle frowns. “Uh. Yes. This is Narnia. I’m confused.”

The four all exchange looks. “We’ll tell you,” the older girl tells Belle. “But you have to tell us your story first.”

Belle shrugs. “Whatever.”

Soon enough, the five of them are seated around a campfire. The sun is going down, and Belle’s still-wet dress is chilling her to the core. She doesn’t say anything about it, though.

“So,” she starts, accepting a toasted apple from Lucy. “I’m a handmaid in Miraz’s palace. He’s the brother of the king, but he’s basically put himself in the role of king ever since King Caspian the Ninth died. His son, Caspian the Tenth, should be king, but Miraz doesn’t want that. He wants the throne to himself, you see. Anyways, I’m on the side of Caspian and the old Narnians, so I helped him escape a few nights ago. Miraz’s wife had a baby boy, so he wants to kill Caspian and make himself the king, now that he has an heir.”

Belle takes a bite of the apple, and it’s surprisingly good. “I was going to be executed because they somehow found out I helped Caspian.”

“Yikes,” the younger boy says, throwing his apple core into the flames. “Cool story.”

The older girl is watching Belle. “So what’s your plan now?” she asks.

Belle shrugs. “Go into the woods. Find Caspian and help him to get his throne back, I guess. We were always really close at the palace, since I grew up there and we’re not too far apart in age.”

The emotions in her voice must have been more obvious than she thought, because Lucy shuffles over to sit beside her, their shoulders touching. Belle gives the girl a soft smile, before she glanced up at the other three.

“So?” she says. “What’s your story?”

The older two exchange a glance. “We’re the kings and queens of old,” the older boy says. “I’m High King Peter, the Magnificent.”

Belle isn’t even that shocked. She’s kind of guessed it by now, even though it was impossible. “You know you guys should be about 1200 years old now, right?”

The younger boy chuckles. “I’m Edmund.”

Belle nods her head at him. “I figured. And you must be Queen Susan?” She glances at the older girl. Susan smiles gently.

“Just Susan is fine.”

Belle salutes. “Whatever you say, Just Susan.”

Edmund laughs again, but tries to hide it with a cough.

Belle stands, shaking her heavy skirts as best she can. It’s an awful material, still holding most of the water from earlier in its skirts. She lets out an angry sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Lucy asks.

“Oh, it’s my dress,” Belle sighs, sitting back down. “They didn’t let me change for the execution and I was doing heavy cleaning this morning. It’s a really terrible dress to wear while it’s wet.”

Lucy looks at Edmund. “Do we still have our school things?” she asked excitedly.

Edmund nods, slowly at first but then he seems to get the idea. “I’ll get them.” He hurries over to the rowboat, which now has a small pile of their things next to it. He brings back over a white shirt and black pants, as well as a strange black skirt.

“Here,” he hands them to Belle. “Sorry—they’re mostly boy’s things but you look about my size and Susan ruined her shirt earlier. But there’s my shirt and pants and Su’s skirt if you'd rather that.”

Belle offers him a smile. “Thank you, King Edmund.”

“No need to call me King,” he says back, as he lays himself back onto the sand. His black hair is messy and reflects the fire’s flickering light.

“I’m just going to go get changed in the tree line,” Belle tells the group. “If I ain’t back in five, panic.”

The others grin as she heads off, the clothes bundled in her arms. Behind a tree, she pulls her dress off over her head, depositing it in a bush. She then peels off her petticoats and corset, leaving only her thin under-bodice and under-shorts on. Belle then tried on Edmund’s shirt, which fits surprisingly well. It’s an odd kind of shirt though, a lot stiffer than ones she’s used to mending. She buttons it up, rolling the sleeves up to her elbows and leaving the top two buttons undone. Now that she isn’t wet, it’s a pretty warm night.

Belle decides to wear the skirt, as she is shorter than Edmund and doesn’t want to wear his pants if they’ll be too long. They’d just be a tripping hazard. She instead pulls on Susan’s skirt, buttoning it up on the side. It’s also very strange, but comfortable, and very freeing and easy to move in. It stops just above her knee. Belle runs her hands through her hair, which has long since come undone and is tangled and knotted due to the water.

Feeling somewhat presentable, Belle scoops up the clothes from the ground and heads back to the fire.

Edmund’s eyes are on her at once, and she isn’t sure if the heat in her cheeks is from him or the fire.

“Oh—“ Edmund stutters a little. “That… you look good in those.”

Belle smiles, a little triumphant. “They’re quite comfortable. Thank you, Edmund.”

“Anytime,” he replies softly. “Anytime.”

[watercolorfreckles]

The Pretty Prince of Avenglow

This is a secret santa snippet for @thepenultimateword ! Thank you for arranging this fun event for everyone, and for entrusting me with your prompt. I've been in a long writing rut, so this was really tough for me to finish on deadline. But I did it! I know this is far from the best thing I've ever written, but it is something! Hope you like it!

Her prompt was: "Fragile pretty boy x strong/buff lady. He is super smitten with her. This can be a hero x villian universe thing, or a prince and a lady knight, or a captured sailor/aristocrat/etc. and a pirate queen, or whatever you want, I just really love this type of relationship dynamic"

“Well, now, you must be the prettiest piece of treasure I’ve found all year.” 

The prince coughed and spluttered, thrashing at the coils of fishing net that entangled his limbs. His clothes, sodden and leaden, seemed to weigh him to the deck.

“Shh, hush now,” the pirate captain before him spoke again, crouching to his level, balanced deftly on her booted heels. “I take excellent care of my belongings.”

The prince stilled, dragging his gaze up to meet hers. He nearly choked again, though all seawater had since been purged from his lungs. 

The stories he’d heard, the wanted portraits pasted on village walls, paled in comparison to the figure leaning over him: Vespertine Crow, captain of the Evening Star.

His insides swirled.

She was a unique kind of beautiful, with long black hair twisted into a braid loosened and tousled by the sea’s salty breath. The contour of her silhouette struck him as statuesque, strong and muscled and gracefully carved. He imagined that she might be as impenetrable as stone, too.

“H-Hi,” he said dumbly.

Vespertine’s lips spread into an amused smile, sharp as the glittering knife twirling between her fingers. She wiggled her free hand in greeting. “Hi, pretty thing. I have to say, I hardly expected my nets to scoop up the Spare Prince, Evrin of Avenglow, soggy and half-drowned in the middle of the Tempest Sea. How serendipitous.”

As he swallowed, the prince's mouth felt abruptly dry. Though he couldn't see past the railing, he cast a nervous glance over his shoulder toward the sunken wreckage of the ship he'd spent days on, cooped up in a damp and creaky cell.

Captain Vespertine followed his gaze, then tilted her head. “Poor thing. Taken and held for ransom, were you?”

The memories flashed behind Evrin’s eyes. It was while he'd been visiting the village to check on his people that he'd been ambushed near the docks, plucked away from the fragile safety of land to be thrown on board the traitors’ ship.

He'd been helpless, no better than a spoiled house cat tossed into the bath.

Evrin managed a nod.

Vespertine made a pitying sound. “Sweet thing. Sinking that vessel was my doing. Aren't you going to thank me for saving your life?”

The knife in her hand moved and the prince jerked back.

Vespertine paused and tutted. “Now Your Highness, I could have nicked you. ‘Can't go risking that pretty face of yours, you should know better.” Her voice was a balm against the aching burn of him. Soothing, though the chill of it still had enough bite to nip at his nerves.

He stilled once more.

Unpicking the tangles of net with the edge of her blade, Vespertine cut him free.

It reminded him of a bird he'd freed once, legs and wings knotted up in fishing line. The mental comparison warmed his cheeks.

“That's better.” She tugged the shed netting over his head, tossing it aside and straightening onto her feet. A calloused hand extended out to him. “Up you get, pretty.”

Evrin hesitated, eyeing her hand. His limbs felt terribly heavy. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stand if he tried. “Thank you, for….saving me.” The end of his sentence lifted into something more like a question.

That startled a soft laugh from the captain. Her eyes glittered with mischief, holding a Tempest Sea of their own. “My pleasure, Highness.”

When he didn't take her hand, Vespertine reached down, hands locking under his arms, and hauled him to his feet as if he weighed nothing at all. Wobbling on weary legs, he caught the pirate's sleeve, looking up at her.

His attention snagged on the fact that she was a few inches taller than him, and certainly far stronger. His belly did a stupid swoop.

“What are you going to do with me?” 

“Mm… That is the question. Let's discuss it in my cabin, shall we?” Draping an arm around him, the pirate captain swept him away, leading him down below deck and into her quarters.

Her will was as irresistible as the moon's will over the tides.

Vespertine gave his chest a light shove and the prince buckled back onto her bed. Catching himself on his hands behind him, his fingers curled around the woolen blanket atop it. It scratched lightly at his fingertips.

Evrin put up no fight, dazed. She drew his gaze with the same allure as the sky and the bottomless sea. Beautiful, dangerous, powerful. Graceful in its dance of crest and fall. 

He watched the captain as she rifled through her closet, pulling out a white, long-sleeved shirt with ties to lace the top, as well as a pair of gray trousers. “Here. I'm sure you'll feel much better when you're out of those clothes.”

The prince's cheeks warmed again. “You…want me to wear your clothes?”

“You're a delicate, skinny little thing, I'm sure you'll fit. Besides.” She unsheathed her sword, leveling it with his chest and using it to lift the fabric above his heart where his crest was attached. The prince's breath caught. “I'll need this from you to prove you're alive if I'm to collect the reward.

“Re…Reward?”

Vespertine shrugged. “I assume they prefer ‘reward’ to ‘ransom.’ One comes with a multitude of fewer threats and scandal. Which do you prefer, Highness?” She pressed the blade a fraction harder into his chest.

The prince itched to skitter away but kept still. “Reward is good,” he breathed.

“Good.” 

She wielded her sword like an extension of her being, fluid and quicker than his eyes could track. There was a slash and then his princely crest was in the captain's hand. His eyes darted down to the bare square on his chest, in the spirit of every novel he'd read where the protagonist had been stabbed or harpooned and was too shocked to process the fatality.

His skin was unmarred.

Vespertine threw the clothes at the prince. “Get dressed, unless you're waiting for me to do it for you. I could be persuaded, if you say pretty please.”

Evrin’s cheeks burned at the thought, casting his gaze away from her and down to the clothes in his hands. Awkwardly, he peeled his shirt over his head.

“Smooth, pampered skin.” Vespertine tutted, sheathing her sword and stepping closer to trace a finger over the soft curve of his shoulder. “You've never seen a day of hardship, have you?”

Prince Evrin shivered, shrugging the clean shirt on. Its weight rested warm and gauzy against his skin. Embarrassed, he shucked his trousers off next, replacing them with the clean pair as quickly as he could manage under the pirate captain's stare. 

“Not many, not of the physical variety, anyway,” he answered.

He straightened the clothes which fit surprisingly well, picking at the laces.

When he looked up again, she was grinning, blatantly pleased. “There, now. isn't that better? You look like a proper pirate. Very pretty.”

“Like you? I mean-” the prince squirmed, shifting to stand, then changing his mind. Submissive. “Sorry.”

She laughed again. “Sorry? For thinking I'm pretty? I'm flattered, sweetheart. You're quite lovely yourself. Now. Back to business.”

“...business?”

“Well, if I'm to return you safely, I expect a reward of… proper proportions. There's the money, yes, but I want something more from you.”

“O-Oh?”

Vespertine plopped onto the bed beside him, turning to face him. “Firstly, I want a pardon. A clean slate I can dirty all over again when it suits me.” She winked at him, and his heart fluttered between his ribs. “Secondly. Your brother took something from me. I want it back. You will get it for me.”

Transfixed, Evrin studied her face. “What did he take?”

She leaned closer to him, her gaze sharpening into something a fraction more dangerous. “My child.”

Evrin’s eyes widened. “Your child? Who–” He paused. “Iara? He said that she was an orphan; that he took her in to spare her a life of hardship and inequity.”

“Your brother lied.” Her voice was the crack of a whip; lightning striking water. When the prince startled, she softened only a fraction, looking him up and down. “You are…kinder than your brother, I can tell. Mousy, certainly, but. Sweet.”

“He is better fit to be king,” Evrin whispered. “Bolder and stronger and braver.”

“But crueler. Are you cruel, Prince Evrin?”

It seemed, suddenly, as though he was balancing on a very thin wire. He watched her face, tracking her every underlying thought.

“No. No, I’m not.”

Captain Vespertine smiled, the flash of a victory banner, and sat back. “Good. Tell me, Pretty. Spare Prince of Avenglow. How would you like to be king?”

Merry Christmas!

General Taglist: @pinned-to-the-wahl, @valiantlytransparentwhispers, @distance-does-not-matter @redbircl, @lilaccatholic, @crazytwentythrees-deactivated @thelazywitchphotographer @chibicelloking , @lolafaiy , @thinkwrite5 , @putridghost @tobeornottobeateacher @sunflower1000 , @bouncyartist , @feyriddle , @yet-another-heathen , @silverwhisperer1 , @distractedlydistracted @pensivespacepirate , @appleejuicee , @deflated-bouncingball @maybe-a-cat42, @m0chik0furan, @mercurymomentum, @fairysprinkles , @vuvulia , @amongtheonedaisy , @rose-pinkie, @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room , @scorpio-smiles , @inkygemuwu , @wolfeyedwitch , @thewhumpmeisterx3000, @ikiiryo , @lem-hhn , @fanastywhump , @smallangryfish , @ladybookworm @freefallingup13 , @acaiaforrest , @a-blue-comedy , @puppyaddict , @talkingsperm , @qualitychaoslover , @deckofaces ,@7eselt , @annablogsposts , @lunatic-moss-studio , @medusas-hairband

[statelysapphic]

Made for Me

Alex Blake x Reader

Summary: After risking your life to save a victim, Alex shows you the comfort you need. Soulmate AU. Covers a square for @prentiss-theorem’s bingo!

Warnings: Typical BAU case talk, mentions of violence. Hurt/comfort. Slight angst.

A/N: I just thought Alex Blake deserved her own Soulmate AU, so I wrote one. I’d absolutely love to know what yinz think because I got SO carried away while writing this. But, I am happy with how it turned out. As always, feedback is always appreciated! Thank you<3

Word Count: 3k

Ao3 Link

“What were you thinking?” Hotch gritted through his teeth, clearly trying not to lose his temper entirely. You knew he was more frustrated than angry, and you supposed he had every right to be. Instead of heading back to the precinct to wrap up an excruciating case, you were sitting on the back bumper of an ambulance, nursing a fresh oxygen tank, drenched and freezing. “Well?”

“Oh, that wasn’t rhetorical?” You quipped, moving the mask away from your face. “Figured it was a nice evening for a swim,” dripping in sarcasm.

“This isn’t the time.” Hotch snapped, rolled his eyes, and shot you a stern look. You weren’t having it, though, wishing until you were at least dry to reprimand you. You looked at him, disgust washing over you.

“Well, I was thinking about the unconscious, tied-up, redhead Nichols tossed off the dock, when none of the women in the county missing reports had red hair! He abducted her this morning, Hotch, she hadn’t even been missing long enough to file a report!”

“You unnecessarily risked your own life to ‘rescue’ a dead body from fourty degree water,” he barks back, not thrilled with your response. “The ME said she won’t be able to verify it until the autopsy, but she’s almost certain the victim was dead before she hit the water. Your decision was reckless and uncalc-”

“And what if she hadn’t been?” You interrupt. “What if she had still been alive and she drowned, huh? What then?” You knew you shouldn’t have been pushing his buttons like you were, but then again, he came in swinging. “I watched him toss her in the river and reach for his gun, Blake and I fired, and when he went down, I dove in after her. You may disagree, but I would do it again without hesitation.” You stood firm, reminding him that you were not the inexperienced agent you once were.

“I’d rather have river rescue only looking for one body as opposed to two. Get some rest. Wheels up at 8.”

You watched Hotch as he walked away and stopped to talk to Alex. Alex. She witnessed everything. She was still somewhat new on the team, but the two of you clicked instantly. You could listen to her talk about everything and nothing, for hours on end, and be simply enthralled every second. And though she was older than you, you had a lot of mutual interests. You also thought she was beautiful. For a moment, you wondered if she could be your soulmate, but that thought was quickly forgotten when you reminded yourself that she was married, and that almost no one actually finds their soul mate. You knew you weren’t lucky enough to be the one in a million. Besides, you and Alex had been working in tandem for the past month, and though you can’t recall specifics, you’re certain the two of you have touched at some point in passing, and you lacked a soulmark.

Dylan Nichols, the unsub, had been one of the lucky ones. His luck, however, ran out when his soulmate had an affair, left him, married the other man a few months later, and moved to Prague. Heartbroken and enraged, Nichols began abducting and murdering surrogates. Six of his seven victims had similar physical features to his estranged soulmate. The seventh woman, Anna, fell victim to his very rapid and extreme escalation. It was an exhausting case, and though you don’t enjoy having to play the role of executioner, you knew this was probably the best outcome.

“You look cold,” Alex said, catching your attention and breaking your train of thought, raking her eyes over your visibly shivering figure. Without another word, she held up a blanket, unfolded it, and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Here, I found this in the back of the SUV. It won’t dry your clothes, but it should help keep the wind off you until we get back to the hotel.” She smoothed out the blanket where it was lying on your shoulders, allowing her hands to linger for just a moment. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t struck with terror when you jumped into the river to save the victim. Even though it was spring, the water temperature was still near freezing. It was close to midnight if that hadn’t been enough, meaning the ordinarily murky water was pitch black.

“Thanks,” you said, grinning, trying not to focus too hard on Alex’s lingering hands. She was gentle, but firm. Possessive, almost. You examined her face as she took a seat beside you. She was trying to hide the worry, but you could see right through her. “You think I’m an idiot, don’t you?” You asked, preparing for her to lecture you just like Hotch.

“I think your dedication to your job is admirable,” she said, her gentle tone did not falter, “Just don’t make a habit of scaring me like that, okay?” She grinned, one hand still on your shoulder. Whether or not Alex would admit it, the physical contact was grounding her after the intense showdown with the unsub. She cared about you, she reminded herself that you were okay. “I’m going to go start the SUV, get it warmed up for you. Finish up with the paramedics and we can head back to the hotel.”

“You’re too good to me, Blake,” your chuckled, cracking a small grin, “Thank you, seriously. I’ll be there soon.” She smiled at you for a few seconds longer before she stood up and made her way to the car. You smiled as you covered your face with the oxygen mask, thinking only of the warm SUV (and Alex Blake) that awaited you.

~

The paramedics released you shortly thereafter. Alex drove you back to the hotel, but not before she stopped at the convenience store a few blocks away. You had been so lost in your own thoughts that you hadn’t realized you stopped. You didn’t even realize the car was in park until Alex closed her car door and walked into the store without a word. When Alex returned, she placed two small, styrofoam cups in your respective cup holders.

“What’s this?” You asked, picking up the cup and soaking in its warmth.

“I figured we could use some hot chocolate. You especially. It’s shitty convenience store hot chocolate, but it’s what I have to offer at the moment,” she said, “When we get back to Virginia, I’ll make you the best coco you’ve ever had.”

“Be careful, Blake,” you joked, “You may end up stuck with me at this rate. Thank you, I didn’t realize you were a world class hot chocolate chef.” Not that that was the worst thought in the world, spending the rest of your days with Alex. You imagined they would be filled with domesticity: Sunday grocery store trips, evenings in bed reading the same book (you’d buy two copies, of course) and comparing notes along the way, and people watching on the front porch together while you had your morning coffee. It felt easy, existing with Alex. She brought you a peace that only existed with her, and it was unlike anything you had ever known. Such a stark contrast from the day to day chaos of your job.

“You think I’d mind?” She asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking. “And I have to keep you on your toes somehow. The recipe is from my mother-in-law. Apparently James used to love it as a kid, but lost the taste for it as he grew older.” James. Right. The husband. Jealousy washed over you, and you quickly reminded yourself that she wasn’t yours. You didn’t understand how you formed such a connection with Alex in the month she had been with the BAU, but you felt drawn to her from the moment she walked into the bullpen. She was, undoubtedly, the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, and when you heard her voice, you thought you had died and gone to heaven. You wouldn’t say you were in love with Alex, but you were falling for her. There was no denying that.

You wondered if James was her soulmate, if she had a soulmark that beautifly painted her skin. It wasn’t something people talked about very often, many not even believing in such a thing, because of it’s rarity. You weren’t sure if it was appropriate to ask either, so you opted to stay quiet.

The ride back to the hotel was silent. You were too lost in your own thoughts to hold a conversation, and Alex could tell. This was a behavior you hadn’t exhibited before. She hoped you were just exhausted and that you hadn’t been traumatized by the evenings events, though she knew it was fueling your thoughts. She didn’t want to pry, but she was worried, so she parked the car and spoke up. “What’s on your mind, Agent?” She lightly teased, hoping it would help you open up, “And you can’t tell me nothing, because I can tell it’s something.”

“I guess,” you paused, wanting to provide a coherent thought while still being vague, “It’s the whole soulmate thing. I guess I just think it’s a little fucked up the universe handcrafted the perfect other half for every single person on Earth but couldn’t even make the bond between them unbreakable.”

“I supposed I’d have to agree with you,” she replied, pulling into the hotel parking lot “I also think it’s a bit cruel that the chances of finding ones soulmate is as low as it is. At least give people a chance.” You chuckled at her sentiment.

“Is James your soulmate?” The words are out of your mouth before you can even begin to debate asking her. Your eyes go wide and your stomach twists into a knot. Panicking, you manage, “Fuck, you don’t have to answer that. That’s super personal and I shouldn’t have asked.” Alex didn’t seem to be phased by your question, though.

“No, he’s not. And that’s okay,” she smiled, “But, secretly, there is a part of me that hopes I do someday.”

“Me too,” you replied, “Ever since I was little. I’ve always remained realistic about the odds of it actually happening, but I allow myself to dream a little.” You chuckled for a moment before lifting your styrofoam cup and pushing it towards Alex, “Here’s to dreaming, cheers.” Alex lifted her cup, bumping it into yours with a laugh.

“Cheers.” You both take hefty swigs of your now lukewarm hot chocolate before heading into the hotel for the night.

~

Conveniently, you had been bunked up with Alex for this case, so she was able to ensure you made it to bed safely. She walked you into the hotel room, her hand at your lower back, guiding you forward.

“Go take a warm shower and get out of those wet clothes. You’ll feel much better, trust me.” She took the blanket from you as you unwrapped yourself, and placed some fresh towels in your hand. You felt your eyes begin to well up and burn; the care she was showing you was unlike any you’ve received before. You felt safe and loved. You quickly turned your head to try and hide your emotion and made your way to the bathroom.

“Thank you again, Alex. I hope you know how much I appreciate your kindness.” you said before closing the bathroom door and clicking the lock.

Finally.

You were alone. Tears began to stream down your face as you looked at your reflection in the oversized bathroom mirror. You looked like hell. You were damp, muddy, and cold to the touch. Your lips, though returning to their normal pink, were still a light shade of blue around portions of their perimeter. All in another days work you think to yourself. You open the door to the walk-in shower and turn the water on to let it heat up. You inhaled deeply and closed your eyes as you began to remove your soiled clothes. Once your shirt and slacks were off, you made your way back over to the mirror to check for any cuts or bruises. Amongst your dirty form, however, sat two golden yellow and orange hand prints on either shoulder.

It can’t be. You stop dead in your tracks, unsure of what to do next. Instinctually, you rubbed your hand over your shoulder, trying to clean the print off, but it wasn’t working. Then you jumped into the shower, thinking the hot water and cheap hotel soap might do the trick. Of course that didn’t work, ruining your hopes it was just a sick prank or some sort. They were your soulmarks, and Alex was your soulmate. You knew instantly, remembering how she covered you up earlier. There was no denying it. Now you were faced with the task of telling her. You know it isn’t something you can hide forever. Panic takes over you. You know she wants to know who her soulmate is, and she deserved that, but you also know that she wouldn’t choose you. She said it herself, James wasn’t her soulmate, but she was okay with it. A knock at the door grabbed your attention.

“Everything okay in there?” She yelled,” You’ve been a while. I just started to worry, that’s all.” You hadn’t realized how long you had been in the shower, and now you felt guilty for keeping Alex up so late.

“All good, sorry, I’ll be out in a few.” You quickly turned the shower off and grabbed a towel to dry off. As you walked from the shower to the bathroom sink, you realized you forgot to grab your pajamas, so you were going to have to face this head on and nude. “Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. You looked back at your now clean reflection, admiring the marks on your shoulders. You couldn’t help but smile. Though you knew it would hurt like hell, you knew Alex deserved to know the truth. You took a deep breath and made your way into the room.

Alex was sat on her bed, hair pulled back in a clip, glasses hanging low on her nose, reading the book she usually saves for the plane ride home. She looked beautiful. You enjoyed this image of Alex for a moment longer. “Alex?” You said softly, drawing her attention away from her novel. She looked up at you and smiled. Her eyes flickered to each of your shoulders and then back to your eyes. Wordlessly, she placed her book on the nightstand, followed by her glasses, and stood from the bed. She slowly made her way over to you, never breaking eye contact. You were frozen in place, thoroughly studying her face. She didn’t seem to be upset in any capacity, nor was her emotion negative. She seemed curious and, dare you say, excited? The tightness in your chest loosened and your face flushed red.

Once in front of you, she paused for a moment before slowly raising her hands and placing them on your shoulders, perfectly covering your soulmarks.

“I knew it,” She whispered, smiling softly as tears prickled her eyes. “I knew you were made for me.” She moved one hand to cup your cheek, while the other remained on your mark. Alex had thought once or twice that you might have been her soulmate. There was no denying the connection she had with you, nor the attraction she felt towards you. And though she didn’t talk about it, she knew her marriage to James was over before she even started at the BAU. She cared about James, yes, but the two had grown apart over the years. She loved him, but she was no longer in love with him. You, however.

“I’m not sure what to say,” you replied, your smile wavering slightly. She was everything you wanted, but she was a married woman and your colleague, no less. You knew what you wanted, but you weren’t sure she would want the same. Would she think you were worth it? Alex noticed your hesitation, and pulled you closer. Her grip on you was possessive, as if she feared you would vanish from her arms.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, sweetheart.” You melted at the sweetness in her voice

and her choice of nickname. You would do anything she told you to, and that was a fact. “I need to know what’s going on in your head so that I can help.” She was so gentle. You knew if she rejected you it was going to hurt like hell and you didn’t want to risk losing a great friend.

“I don’t want to lose you, Alex. I know this changes things, but you’re too good of a friend to risk losing. You don’t even have to tell James. If you don’t have a soulmark already, I just won’t touch you and it’ll all be okay. But, I would be lying if I told you it wouldn’t hurt me. I care about you so much.” As you choked out your thoughts, you felt yourself begin to cry, but you didn’t stop yourself. Alex felt her heart breaking. “I wasn’t even going to tell you. I was going to try and hide it, but then I remembered what you told me in the car, and I didn’t think it would be right. I’m so sorry, Alex.”

“Sweetheart,” she says, interrupting your rambling, “Hold me.”

“What?” You weren’t sure you heard her correctly.

“I said,” she enunciated, closing the already small gap between the two of you, “Hold me. Please.” She grabbed ahold of your wrists and slowly wrapped your arms around her body. Your hands settled on her back knowing her soulmark would appear, and you pulled her close anyway, not that she could get much closer. You relaxed at her touch, as her hands returned to your shoulders and she rested her forehead against yours. “I want this,” she said, “Us. You and I against the world.”

“Alex,” you paused, “Are you sure? You have a husband and a stable life. I’m just me. This doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

“I’ve been falling for you since the first case we worked on together.” she jumped in before you could get another word out, “I don’t think I’ve been more sure of anything. Besides, only an idiot would pass up a life with their other half.” She smiled and you followed suit. You were shocked that she felt the same, considering it seemed all odds were against you. The two of you stood in each others arms there for a few minutes, basking in the love and excitement of the moment, before you broke the silence.

“Alex?” You asked.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Kiss me,” You said. And without hesitation, Alex cupped your face and her lips were on yours. They were soft, like the fluffiest pillows money could buy. You fit perfectly together. No other kiss had ever felt anything like it, and you could tell Alex was pouring her heart and soul into it. You knew she was trying to tell you that this was real for her. You didn’t need much convincing though. Breaking the kiss, you smiled at Alex, and she smiled back.

“Let’s get some rest,” she whispered. And you did, better than you probably ever had before, thanks to Alex. She had fallen asleep laying on your chest with an arm around your waist. When you woke up the next morning, she was still in the same spot. You felt whole knowing that you had she wanted you just as you wanted her. Though you didn’t like to think about the future too much, in that moment, you knew there wasn’t anything you couldn’t do with Alex by your side.

[r0-boat]

TW: MENTION OF LOSING A LIMB/GORE MENTION please be advised.

Hello! I have a prompt where, the reader pushes there lover (warden Ingo, cyllene, laventon, adaman SEPARATE) away from an Alpha Pokemon attack and then get seriously injured (like losing a limb or something) and them crying and telling us off on how we could have died or grieving our death.

(both surviving and dying endings please)

Oh yes delicious angst! 👀

Cw: almost losing a limb/losing a limb, reader death, mourning, depression, angst no happy end.

Reader becoming severely injured or dying saving them.

Warden Ingo

(Close call)

Ingo carried you, blood staining his coat and your outfit. He carried you going as fast as he humanly could down until the nearest doctor, anyone who could help—screaming for help, keeping you warm, and losing more blood in any way he could. When you finally wake up, Ingo is out of breath and on the verge of tears. He holds you close, tight, and protective. He couldn't get mad at you. He could never be mad. He was just relieved you were all right. However I would be lying if I said he wouldn't be a little more protective from now on.

(reader dead)

He stared at a shaky palm, remembering the way you went slack in his arms, bags under his eyes from sleepless nights filled with new and old nightmares. The painful feeling of losing something was so painful; however, what scared him more was that this feeling was familiar to him. The emptiness inside him was only doubled after. He can't even look at himself anymore because whatever stares back is your smiling face and deja vu. Even though he knows he must take care of himself, he has to admit it's hard even to bring himself to eat these days without looking over to your smiling face how he misses you're warmth in his arms. Now, all he feels is the cold, howling wind of Coronet Heights. Once again that loneliness fills him in this time; it will be there till his grave. Ingo cannot love again for he can not feel that love again.

Cyllene

(close call)

Survivors guilt, as you lie there on the ground losing blood at an alarming rate. She's frozen. She's almost in denial as other survey members rush to your limb body. Cyllene finally snaps out of it all. Her panic hits her all at once, barking orders to get you back to camp.

Unfortunately Pesselle running low on supplies and with time running out she wasn't sure she would be able to save you. Upon hearing this Revelation something inside her stoked a fire Cyllene took it upon herself to go out and find every single ingredients she needed helping her nurse you back to health, of course you being unconscious from blood loss for a few days you had no idea all you woke up to was an angry rant from a very very pissed captain.

(Death)

After all she did, she couldn't save you. Sadness and rage bubble into one, gritting her teeth, nails scratching at the cold ground; she wants to scream. Damn it why wasn't it her? Damn, it should have been her! The job of the Galaxy Core was to protect people and she couldn't even protect the one person she cared most. She needed to get stronger she needed to be more so this would never happen again. And that's why her heart grows three times colder that day.

Laventon

(close call)

Laventon drag you outside of Camp to look at some Pokemon well he asks you to ready your pokeballs for a catch, but he doesn't notice the alpha Garchomp that had their eyes on you. Everything was a blur then helplessly sitting still as the rest of Team Galaxy tried everything to use your Pokemon to fight the alpha back off as they get you back to safety. If only he could throw a Pokeball if he were good at raising Pokemon. Laventon felt like a burden to you here he was having you risk his life to do his work any friendly wake up he's on the verge of tears holding you closely his hands shaking the sinking feeling of uselessness does not leave.

(Death)

He drowns himself in his work. It is the only way to make him forget about his constant nightmares of that day. He still loves Pokemon. He does not blame Pokemon for taking your life, but he recognizes more than anyone else that Pokemon are as dangerous as they are fascinating. It'll be a while since he touches one without his heart beating with anxiety. He barely eats. He sleeps. All he does is work on his Pokedex. He has to finish it for your sake, or else all the dangerous work you did, the work you died for, will be for nothing, and when he finally finishes, it will say, "With the help of my beloved, thank you. I will miss you."

Adaman

(close call)

If it wasn't for Leafeon who growled at the large Pokemon making sure it didn't take a step closer as his human brother held you in his arms, blood staining his fingers. Leafeon successfully holding back the Pokemon that threatened your life walks over to Adaman whining as he looks your arm giving him a worried look. Adaman knows the natural remedies around these parts you are too far from the settlement and the village to take care of you so he does all that he can using leafeon's aromatherapy to soothe you as he begins to use natural herbs and revenues to calm the bleeding as much as he can while ripping apart his own clothes for makeshift bandages rumoring through your bag for anything he could use anything at all to help.

Upon waking up, Adaman almost tackles you, holding you close to his body, careful not to hurt you. He squeezes you gently. "You're an idiot..." he whispers, his hand shaking, his voice breaking. "don't you ever scare me like that again."

(death)

If only he was faster and in denial at the fact that your time has ended. If only he hadn't wasted his time, he could have gotten you to the settlement, and you would have been here. He felt like a failure, not only a failure of a friend but a failure of the leader of Diamond Clan. If he couldn't keep one person he loved alive, how could he keep his entire Clan alive? Time is truly short. However, some people, if unlucky, can be even shorter. He'll spend all his days morning into training, getting stronger in your name until he has passed out on the ground. He knows that he's just wasting his time and that no amount of tears will bring you back. He did not deserve you; you did not serve your time being robbed. The Lord Sinnoh is so cruel.

[eonian-nightmare]

I'm sorry but can we talk about Arthur's similarities to Faust???

*Spoiler warning for up to ep31*

For those who don't know German folklore/ literature, Faust follows the tale of a depressed and suicidal man who makes a deal with the devil to fufill his desire for knowledge. Now despite us knowing how Arthur's hunger for information has put his and John's survival at risk on multiple ocasions, There's so many parallels!

Faust makes a deal with a demon, not to concerned with the price. Arthur also makes a deal with a demon (kayne) not to concerned of the price.

Faust seduce a beautiful and innocent young woman, usually named Gretchen, whose life is ultimately destroyed when she gives birth to Faust's illegitimate son. Realizing this unholy act, she drowns the child and is held for murder. I DONT THINK I NEED to talk about this much. The fact that Faroe died drowning, that Faroe was also concieved out of wedlock, that Bella's family is super religious. Also the fact that arthur was this close to destroying Bella's life and leaving her with the child, plays an INTERESTING paraell.

Faust is irrevocably corrupted and believes his sins cannot be forgiven; when the term ends, the Devil carries him off to Hell. Let's just refference all of Arthur's Nightmares and his breakdown after killing Uncle.

I do find this concept interesting because Arthur is heading to New York as Kayne desire, from what prophesies insit is to serve the order of the Fallen Star. If we follow Faustian folklore, it's likely that Arthur is entering a trap in which he's going to see the fine print of his deal, and find himself in servitude. Considering in the story, Mephistopheles (the devils representative) serves Faust with his powers until death, and then the roles reverse. I do find it interesting, considering John is essentially at Arthur's beck and call. Could his secret deal between John and Kayne have something to do with an act of servitude. Has he got something in it to protect himself ? John seems quite desperate to keep Arthur from death, seems more afraid of what waits for arrhur than himself. Something seemed to insist they wont end up in the same place. maybe he knows that the deals made will have Arthur enterally enslaved.

There is a slightly more modern interpretation in which Faust is saved by God via his constant attempts to be a good person. Who knows, maybe John could be his saving grace, and push him in the direction of freedom. Will the King in Yellow save Arthur from Kayne, does God save his follower from the devil?

These are interesting questions, that have me scared.

[profoundbondfanfic]

We've heard it's Mermay and decided to make our contribution with some of our favorite destiel fics involving Merpeople because who never imagined our boys as Ariel or Prince Eric? (No? Just us? okay then.)

A Fish Called Castiel by orphan_account [Explicit, 37k words]

Dean Winchester plans on proposing to his summer fling, Lisa Braeden. He buys a ring, against the advice of best friend Charlie Bradbury, and books a table at an expensive restaurant. Before he can propose however, Lisa breaks up with him. His pride wounded, Dean drives out to the coast, gets liquored up and throws the engagement ring into the ocean. When he goes in to retrieve it, he heads too deep and that should be the end of the story. He shouldn’t end up back on the shore, coughing up seawater with a beautiful young man tending to him. Dean doesn’t know where this man came from or who he is but he gives him the engagement ring as a thank you for saving his life. He never expects to see the guy again, but two days later he gets a call from the local Sheriff about a strange man she's picked up wondering naked in town with Dean's wallet and ring on him. The guy’s name is Castiel and, much to Dean’s surprise, he’s a mermaid.

A Fish Out of Water by MalMuses [Explicit, 64k words]

To tie up the loose ends of a hunt, Dean is forced to go undercover and visit Brock Pleasure Ranch, a horrifying establishment that markets its inhabitants to people with ‘monstrous’ tastes. It should have been a simple thing, to persuade a mer to give him a few scales for a spell. All part of the usual Winchester byline: saving people, hunting things. But Castiel is far less of a ‘thing’ than Dean expected. He might not be human, but he’s definitely a person. And that means he needs saving, too.

A Merman's Tail by remivel [Explicit, 14k words]

Castiel was a merman who was born with the tail of a Great White Shark. Treated as an abomination by his own kind, Castiel found solace in observing humans and following their ships. He was content with watching them from afar, until he saved Dean, a human prince, from being killed by a shark. Soon, watching Dean from afar was not enough, and he wished to leave his life under the sea for a chance at being part of Dean's world.

Beneath the Surface by riseofthefallenone [Explicit, 252k words]

An alternate universe of my beloved Out of the Deep that takes place entirely in the world of the Fin-kin. Castiel is still the bright-fin we know and love from OotD. But Dean? He’s a fang-fin; a violent breed of fin-kin who want nothing more than to bring war to Castiel's colony - or so he's been led to believe.

Bitten on Both Wings by squirrelofcelestialintent [Explicit, 31k words]

You may have seen The Little Mermaid, but you have no idea how the real story goes. Castiel is cursed. He comes from a long line of cursed Mer, not that he’s ever met any of them, or been told anything about the burden that he inherited. When he saves a human man from drowning, he finds himself suddenly on land and wearing two legs. It feels like an adventure. And when that man turns out to be someone he might love, there’s no risk he wouldn’t take to be able to stay with Dean. But Castiel doesn’t know what it is that he’s risking.

Breathing Into You by casblackfeathers [Explicit, 110k words]

‘Beware the deep sea, that’s where the monsters come from.’ Dean had heard these words since birth, his father’s warnings shaping him into the man he is today. That’s not the root of Dean’s hatred for merpeople, though. Twenty years after the day tragedy had touched the Winchesters’ lives forever as well as the end of the Great War between humans and mer, Dean is still haunted by that moment. But loving the sea is just as much a part of him as the dread for the merfolk, so when he isn’t working at the local bar, he is there, underwater, immersed in the vast blue his mother used to speak of in her bedtime stories. Dean knows, however, that the sea can be as ruthless as it is soothing. When he is caught in the middle of a storm and faces the anger of the waves, the mysterious appearance of a stranger with blue eyes as clear as the waters Dean loves losing himself in forces Dean to question the truth behind his father’s old mantra.

Here We May Be Free by FriendofCarlotta [Explicit, 39k words]

When Dean was eleven, he saw something in the ocean: a boy with blue eyes and iridescent scales. Almost twenty years later, a spontaneous detour after a hunt brings Dean and Sam back to the town where that encounter took place. And Dean can’t shake the feeling that Castiel, the owner of the local Mermaid Museum, looks familiar…

Hold Your Breath by camwelgrace [Explicit, 151k words]

The summer after Dean Winchester's high school graduation doesn't seem like it's going to be a very exciting one. Dean's life consists of working for Bobby at the salvage yard, taking care of Sammy, and helping his dad run the motel. That is, until a violent storm washes up a dark-haired, blue-eyed merman into The Beach Bunker's pool. With Castiel on land and sporting a brand new - albeit transient - pair of legs, the two of them discover that there's a lot for them to learn from one another. Not only about themselves and their present, but also about the past. Or, The one where Dean Winchester can't believe he's falling for the hot merman who got washed up in his pool. Since when was his life so friggin' weird?

Song of the Sea by Faster_Than_the_Speed_of_Sound [Mature, 37k words]

In a world where the merpeople of the ocean are known by humanity, but sirens are thought to be extinct, Dean Winchester is in trouble. On a routine hunt with his brother, he manages to get himself captured by a group of fishermen who sell him to scientists for experimentation. Dean finds himself locked in a tank hundreds of miles away from his home, with no allies and no conceivable way to get back to the ocean. Just when Dean thinks he has no chance of escaping alive, he finds a friend in the kind, blue-eyed doctor named Castiel. As Dean tries to survive in the facility, he finds salvation, safety, and maybe a little more in his new ally. In the frantic rush to break Dean out and get him back to the ocean, is there any chance for the budding attraction between the siren and the doctor to thrive? Or will it be doomed to a watery grave?

Out of the Deep by riseofthefallenone [Explicit, 488k words]

Stay away from the light-beds. Stay in the deep. It is the first thing hatchlings are taught the moment their fans unfurl and they can swim without their parents to buoy them along. It is the first rule, the first law. It is the beginning of every boogey-monster bedtime story told when they settle against the cliffs to sleep. Castiel should have listened better.

Wish I Could Be by EllenOfOz [Mature, 51k words]

Once upon a time, far beneath the ocean waves, King Triton ruled over the merfolk. All was peaceful, but the youngest prince, Castiel, dreamed of more. For he’d seen them—the humans on their fishing boat, including one particular green-eyed sailor whose face he couldn’t get out of his mind. Just how far would he go to be part of that world? A retelling of The Little Mermaid written for SPN Media Big Bang, featuring art by girlinthemirrorbluenight.

[aphroditesmoon]

in full bloom

sihtric kjartansson x reader

summary: you saved sihtric's life once, he repays you when the chance presents itself.

warnings: pregnant reader, some gore, weapons. s5 spoiler.

°°°

Some people found it confusing seeing a pregnant girl with the band of misfit warriors on their journeys.

And as embarassing as it was to admit, the reason Sihtric has sworn himself your protector, was because you've saved him from death once. No argument was to be had to him, He owed you his life and he shall give it.

You were naught more than a traveling beggar, a nobleman's daughter, banished by your own family after finding yourself with child. And the father of the child had refused to take responsibility for his own mess.

And as you slit the throat of two of Haesten's men after freeing him and his friends from captivity, he swears he's never met anyone braver.

Though at the time your pregnancy wasn't obvious, he could tell by the curve of your stomach. His lord Uhtred has inquire of your well-being and journey.

After rejecting silver from him, Sihtric insisted to his lord that you seek protection with them, especially with the sickness going around.

And since then on, you two were inseparable.

he found himself being very protective of you and your too trusting self.

it was a miracle that you have made it this far safely. he has always made sure that you'd safe and never and battle.

Though this time he couldn't be so sure that he has made the right decision leaving you with Finan's wife. It seemed that the Danes have raided your city.

Finan's wife has managed to push you out into safety before the danes have gotten too close, But now that they have returned they had no idea where you were. Only Finan's wife was there.

There was no time to look for you as slashing swords meets blood and dead bodies on the ground.

He screams for Finan's wife to look for you. he could not risk losing you. Not before you knew the feelings he held for you in his heart.

His focus was driven from him as the scream of your voice caught his attention. his eyes widen as he sees you being held at knifepoint by one of Sigtryggr's men.

He shoves the sword inside of the man in front of him before running towards you.

"Let her go or the knife you hold will no longer have a hand to hold it." He growls at your captor.

The man huffed and move his knife to slit your throat. your scream was drowned by Sihtric's own scream, as he slams the man onto a wall pushing his knife out of your way.

He pushes you to the ground so you will not have any pain be inflicted from any weapons before craning the man's neck and breaking it.

The man slumped down on the wall and he spares no glance at him as he rushes to lift you up from the ground and pulling you inside Finan's house.

His wife immediately lets you two in.

"Are you hurt?" He breathes out. When you shook your head with tears falling down. He nods and rushes back out as Finan's wife locks the door and rushes you to her room.

She makes sure to try her best to comfort you through the chaos and bloodshed for your baby's sake, calming you down with water and restricting all entrances.

You can't help but worry for your Sihtric. Though he's a fearsome warrior, he's but a man still.

You cover yourself in blankets through sobs as your friend paces back and forth, her own worry showing for her husband. It was an unexpected attack.

After 30 minutes or so, the atmosphere outside becomes quiet. A hard knock on the door makes both of you flinch.

The sound of Finan's voice relaxes the two of you. The door opens for them and you gasp at the sight of a bloody Osferth.

Finan lays him on the floor, begging his wife to help him. But it was a lost cause,

the warrior monk was no longer breathing.

°°°

That evening you sat outside with Cynlaef and Finan's wife, watching Sihtric and Finan gravely digging a hole for their friend's body.

You cried for the baby monk, for he was always kind to you, always caring for your unborn baby.

You offer to read the prayers for the short burial as Finan and Sihtric wept silently for their friend.

The burial was short as they had to rush to Lord Uhtred, Sihtric walks towards your tired body, kneeling down in front of your sitting self.

His hand splayed on your stomach.

"I need you to stay here, for your own safety." He speaks gently to you. Your eyes meet his and you nod understandingly.

His gaze doesn't leave yours as you notice his hesitatingly leaning in.

The hesitation disappears once his lips found yours.

Your hands move to wrap around his neck, one grasping his hair while his own moves to cup your face.

The kiss was soft yet passionate, he moves away first, breathing out a sigh of relief.

"Can't believe it took me almost dying for you to do that." You tease gently, making him snort.

A smile slowly graces his darkened face. The first smile since the day started.

"I'll make it up to you when I come back." He replies, his forehead againts yours as his palm traces your stomach.

"And I will love your child like my own." He vows. A rush of overwhelming feeling fills your lungs.

"You swear?" You whisper, voice cracking.

He leaves a gentle peck on your lips before taking your hand and wrapping it around his necklace in his fist and kissing it.

"Over Thor's hammer, I swear it."

He would return to you, he had too. And when he's finally back, you'd be here, waiting for him with your child.

[reyesstrand]

thinking about being alive being gwyn’s favourite song. thinking about her singing it, along with her lullabies, to tk—as he grew up, as they faced tragedy they could never imagine, as tk faced loss and grew distant and turned to other means of drowning out the noise. thinking about gwyn loving tk so ferociously and fiercely and wholly right to the end. thinking about gwyn saving tk by taking him to rehab and owen beginning the process of saving him for good by taking him to austin and gwyn saving jonah in the last moments of her life.

thinking about being alive and “somebody crowd me with love / somebody force me to care / somebody let me come through / i’ll always be there / as frightened as you / to help us survive / being alive” and how it’s literally the tarlos thesis. thinking about tk and carlos meeting when they were more alone than they’d ever been, finding their kindred spirit, their soulmate, and the journey to allowing themselves that kind of love and vulnerability of letting someone else in. thinking about tk and carlos and the slow unravelling of the parts deep inside they hid, the parts that came from trauma, the parts that they loved about each other anyway. thinking about them enduring together, supporting each other, guiding each other, keeping each other standing. thinking about them being each other’s heart personified. thinking about neither of them knowing what their future would hold—if they’d even have a future—and finding hope and a newfound dream in each other. thinking about them having so much love and being surrounded by it in so many forms, always. thinking about them coming together in a union that everyone around them celebrated with them. thinking about them and having forever.

thinking about gwyn. thinking about gabriel. thinking about tk asking one of his mentors and mother figures to sing this in honour of their parents but also everyone they’ve lost. thinking about being alive being the theme song to tk’s life but representing so much to carlos and his family, too. thinking about tk and carlos and their future and them holding each other, caressing each other, sitting quietly with each other if that’s what’s needed. thinking about them seeking each other out in the middle of the night. thinking about them making each other meals. thinking about them knowing so intimately the inherent pain and grief and untimely tragedy of life but living in it anyway, and continuing on through love and the power of it. because that’s the risk of love, right? feeling so much and being so connected and knowing we’ll lose it one day, but finding so much beauty in it to keep choosing it, to keep fighting for it, to keep on being alive.

[elliespuns]

One of the most powerful and impactful scenes in the game is when Ellie and Joel are almost at the end of their journey and the raging waters take down the wreckage of a bus, with Joel falling inside and Ellie trying her absolute best to save him.

Joel is on the verge of drowning in that tiny space of the bus that's going down, but all he can think about is the girl and the danger she's in right now just because she's trying to help him.

I will always applaud the bravery of this girl. She's just impossible. She knows she can't swim, yet she doesn't hesitate and jumps back down on the bus (even though she was already in safety) so she can get to Joel and help him up, risking her own life for a man that has just recently stopped being a pain in her ass. So loyal, so kind, and so brave. Her dedication to Joel, the only person who has ever cared for her (except for Riley and her mom), and all the pure love that's in her heart. Ellie is such a lovable human being.

And whenever I get to the scene of her floating underwater, lifeless… I can't help but imagine what it would be like if Ellie hadn't made it (be it after the accident or if Joel hadn't saved her from the hospital). It'd be so devastating and soul-crushing because Joel's last memory of her would literally be Ellie trying to save him with his last words "Give me your hand!" as he was trying to do the same for her, knowing the bus was going to bring her down too.

At the beginning, he would be mean to her, and she'd be just an annoying kid to him. But by the end, after all the time they've spent together, all the danger they've been through, and all the sadness and laughter they shared, neither of them hesitated to risk their lives for each other.