#a sort of save the children cause but still

[liskantope]

This is going to sound like I'm arriving at this attitude much later than I reasonably should have, and quite possibly I am, but I'm now beginning to feel a gut-level jolt of horror at the thought of what the socially conservative Right is getting up to that I haven't felt since the decade before last during the last great culture war over Christianity vs. atheism and gay rights. The current scene of conservative politicians on the warpath wielding sledgehammers aimed at drag culture, gender medicine, and the teaching of anything uncomfortable related to race (among other targets) is not a pretty sight and is ratcheting up the current war to a level I hadn't fully anticipated.

This part is going to be a rather self-centered take, but... It actually makes me feel nostalgic for a decade ago, when what is now called "wokeness" was this type of ideology that was exploding online and in my academic environment but I didn't really have a name for, until in 2014 I discovered a blogger named Scott Alexander who called it SJ and was basically the first person I had ever seen seriously and effectively address it. I'm even nostalgic for the feeling prior to encountering Scott's online community that I was pretty much alone and probably just kind of evil for taking issue with the ideology and should maybe just let progressive culture go on its merry way as it didn't particularly seem to be causing real concrete trouble or upsetting anyone else throughout the political spectrum. Even from a purely self-centered point of view, in a way this wasn't as gut-twisting as seeing all of this reach the mainstream and an opposing side that I do not want as my bedfellows lashing back as viciously as possible, which is what I see today.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 171

Danny would like everyone to know it was a complete accident. Look, normally he was really good at not altering the timeline! He was! 

But the dude was definitely not in the right Time, and he had to get his trust which took so long, like damn he thought he had anxiety. Seriously though, kevlar in the 1700s? Yeah that wasn’t right, and Peepaw always complained about the messes that the speedsters caused, so he was trying to prevent a mess by tugging the dude away and helping him out. 

Falling in love maybe a little, was not in the plan. But honestly the man had a worse sense of self preservation than he did as a teen and was also straight up adorable, in a wet cat  who could kill you sort of way. 

So maybe he helped the dude grab a child that was going to be drowned. It wasn’t like anyone else saw them! Even if similar situations might’ve happened a few different times. 

Still, no one saw them! 

So why is there now a small cult who worships the Shadowed one and Radiant one, aka his companion (who would not give his name save for B, which, fair, probably didn’t want to accidentally wreck the timeline either) and well, him?! At least they worship them as guardians of children, but uh. Should he maybe, perhaps, fix this…? 

[avalordream]

Prompt: Imagine you get isekaied in Our Life. Only thing is that you wake up as a child and remember everything. You can only save at this point but you can still access the save and load menu and see your previous runs.

Meanwhile your precious neighbor is slowly becoming self aware, getting deja vu with every passing second- as if this has all happened before...

A/N: A few days after I posted this- a few other thoughts came to mind- SO HERE IS MY ATTEMPT AT VOCALIZING THEM

You’re keenly aware of how small and tiny you are the moment you wake up. 

For the first few days, you started to acclimate to…the family home. 

It wasn’t YOUR family though. It never was. It was MC’s. Not your’s.

You could project all you wanted onto MC but it was never your family or your life to experience. It was theirs.

Even so, you quickly found yourself missing the life you were used to. More specifically:

The cuisine.

It was hard not to draw suspicion to the fact that you were craving different food genres aside from Mom’s Pamela’s mac and cheese and cheeseburgers. 

Ma’s Noelani’s Hawaiian food helped quite a bit to hold you over as you started to ponder over how to approach it.

Kind of hard to bring it up to your MC’s parents that you wanted Asian/Middle eastern/Indian/Pakistani/Mexican/etc food when there was none of that for miles around

For the time being, you had to quietly hint and nudge their thoughts into that direction but not enough to make them suspicious. Noelani obviously had her suspicions about Cove getting into the house from Step 2-3 but never brought it up once. From what you could tell, she was scary observant

Another issue was how clumsy your new body was.

Your mind might be able to remember how to do everyday tasks like writing and such but this tiny body didn’t have the muscle memory to match it

Much to Liz’s dismay, you spent quite a bit of your time forcing your hands and legs to train to do things your adult body could do in a snap

Time wise- technology was a huge sucker punch. It made you feel bad for taking your own devices for granted. 

That being said, self learning everything was going to be hard without a phone or computer on hand, especially knowing that you’d have to go through the cursed education system all over again- but most likely much harder

There had to be a reason older folk complained about it, right?...

Your MC’s birthday was the same as your own, just that the birth year is 1997. That being said, the current year was 2006… Funny. You were only two in 2006…

…

Back to self learning, you tried to practice what you considered basic math long after everyone had fallen asleep

Usually, your day was filled with entertaining Shiloh and Liz, playing in the park or going along with whatever Liz said. Judging by the giant for sale sign across the street and the date, you figured out that you got isekaied roughly at least a month or two before Cove and Mr. Holden would move in. 

Who knew how that would go now that you weren’t subjected to just three choices?

Even after playing around, your body was exhausted and your baby mind was just as pooped out.

The first few days you would wake up early as children do and tried doing your math and remembering as much as you could at that time

Yeah, Liz nearly gave you a heart attack after she barged in and you had to play it off as you scribbling absolute nonsense cause you were bored

After that near collision, you changed your prep time to being at night. Sure, you woke up to Liz shaking you and not getting enough sleep in the morning, but you needed to refresh your memory the best you could

You couldn’t do it every night though and did your best to keep some sort of schedule so you wouldn’t forget - and worry your MC’s moms

They noticed the first few times of how sleepy you’d be when you’d wake up later than usual - granted if Liz didn’t wake you up - and a few nights after, you nearly got caught right in the middle of your review.

Pam was more sneaky than Noelani, so you should’ve seen this coming- but even so, you had everything spread out on your rug when you just barely heard her footsteps come to your MC’s door

You had enough time to shove everything underneath your bed - your room was messy enough but better safe than sorry - and quickly dive under the covers before you heard your door open with the softest of clicks

She was around for a good while before you heard the door close again but you didn’t relax until you were sure her footsteps went back to the master bedroom

After that, you were much more careful about how long you spent studying and when. You haven’t been caught since.

Occasionally, you’d have to sneak in your MC’s parent’s room to grab any books that you needed. Good thing Noelani was a book nerd.

You did have to be careful about your self learning- you didn’t want them getting any suspicions that their kid was suddenly…different out of nowhere.

You had no idea what MC was like as a kid before the events of Our Life so you tried your best to piece together what you could 

Speaking of, there were a bunch of things you quickly realized about Our Life, one of which is that game didn’t go over nearly everything that MC went through, let alone before Cove came or others that it only touched on briefly

For example, the tourists that came and went every year happened to be close friends of Pamela’s from her time in university, hence why they were so friendly to you and Liz in particular. 

It was also why they knew how to… handle your ever changing moods. At least-

That’s what it looked like to them.

To you- it was because you had to battle MC’s initial responses to these scenarios.

Go figure, this body still had its fair share of emotions inside of it, leaving you to figure out if this sharp pang of fear or worry was your own or not.

It left you second guessing everything you did, especially when you’d be up at night, studying and practicing your writing

It seriously irked you, knowing your writing was sloppy even though you knew this body couldn’t help it. It didn’t make seeing your scrappy writing less frustrating though

Despite how much you tried to hide how YOU felt, not MC, Noelani still picked up on the small shifts in your behavior. 

One of these being the irritation you harbored for your writing. 

Speaking of emotions, you found your body easily overwhelmed by any stronger ones- your own irritation making you cry- an alien feeling and one that took even you by surprise.

Worse part? The first time happened was in front of Noelani when she tried to help you practice your penmanship

Naturally, she tried to comfort you MC by trying to console you, saying it’d be better with practice and wiping away your tears but no matter how YOU tried, the tears wouldn’t stop flowing

It wasn’t until much later that you realized that MC’s tiny self had their own limits and by pushing those adult feelings and expectations that YOU had onto it sent it into a messy overdrive.

After that, you had learned to slow down- the world wasn’t ending…even if it felt like it.

…

The nail in the coffin for you that made YOU cry. Not MC’s body: Your dreams started to resemble parts of your life. 

You’d dream that you were back at your desk job or filling out mundane paperwork but no matter how boring it’d be, it was YOUR life.

The one YOU were used to and familiar with

You’d always feel so relieved to be back where you were supposed to, whether you were happy with that life or not

It was that feeling of having all your choices in your hand and being in control of where you wanted to go, if that made sense.

Nobody made those choices for you except well…you.

Only to have that feeling of familiarity ripped away once you registered Liz waking you up to play while “Ma and Mom snooze the day away!”

…

You just want to go home…

To YOUR home…

-> Part 1.5 <- ⊹ ‧₊˚ Isekai Self Aware Taglist: @lilqi @annoying-mary ˚₊‧ ⊹

[lunarw0rks]

Hiiiii❤️ I idk if this is a Drabble or a headcaon but here I go anyways😅 . Hear some context So you don’t think I’m some weirdo. So in the 2017 movie called the babysitter and this character Allison got shot in the b00b and she “omg he shot me in the b00b what kind of dçk shots a girl in the b00bs” (funny scene) so basically fem!reader with platonic!taskforce141. And there on a mission and suddenly they hear the same line on their coms and they’re like 😳

(feel free to ignore)

A/N: LMAO - I had to look up the scene for this as a reference. Just picturing Price's paternal disappointment when he realizes his team acts like a bunch of children. Sorry, this is rlly short!

Summary: Your attempt at comedic relief sets off a chain reaction of immaturity.

Warning(s): platonic!141, canon-typical mild injury, suggestive language, AFAB!Reader, no use of y/n

Word Count: 554

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver. | PART TWO

No Filter // 141 Drabble

Compared to some of the other operations you’d done with them, this was a piece of cake. A simple infiltrate and exfil mission where you’d be clearing house in one of Hassan’s safehouses—a mere breadcrumb leading to the man himself.

Price thought it would go smoothest if everyone split up, but to keep within shouting distance. It was only a small facility, after all.

Being ambushed? Shot? That was not something you saw in the cards for today.

Luckily, you got a bullet in him before he had a chance to do worse. But here you were, slumped against the wall with all the air knocked out of your lungs.

“Heard the shots, Sergeant. You broken?”

Captain Price’s voice crackled through near instantly, the second he had pulled the trigger on you. Though it took a few seconds, you managed to recuperate, and asses the room in front of you. The man who shot you K.I.A, and you very fortunate.

You peered down at your chest; indeed not broken, but injured. The vest had absorbed the shot, causing a relieved sigh to escape your lips. Obviously, if you really had a bullet in your chest, you wouldn’t just be sitting there—but the adrenaline of escaping death eliminated any rationality.

You unbuttoned the first few buttons on your shirt, seeing a welt on your breast as if the man had his gaze set on them when he pulled the trigger. Still, with your hand on the button of your radio, you finally gave some sort of answer.

“Bastard shot me in the boobs.” It was a mumble, but there was no way in hell they didn’t hear that.

As you winced, you seemed to forget that the entire team was on the other line—probably way more concerned with your life than the health of your tits. “What kind of dick shoots a girl in the boobs?” You asked rhetorically, despite the astonished silence on the other line.

“You were shot in your…?” Gaz was the first to speak up, his tone practically painting the picture of his signature squint.

Before the next voice chimed in, you could swear you heard whoever it was stifling a laugh. “Thanks for that.” Soap chimed in, accent crackling against the static. His smirk was visible even if his words; the natural flirt in him coming out no matter what.

Ghost had remained silent, probably muting his comms so he didn’t have to listen to this. And Price? Oh, Price… He’s got his head in his hands with pure disappointment. How did this status update turn so unprofessional, so quickly?

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Soap comes in again, a smug sneer on his face. “He shot you on the—”

“Keep it tactical, Sergeant.” Price blurts, interrupting the immature banter daring to be further set in motion. He was fighting every urge to crack a smile at the pure ridiculousness, but his poker face and stern tone prevented it.

“Tactical or not, John, it’s a tough break.” Laswell comes in, your only saving grace against Price’s father-like disappointment. She was the last superior of yours you’d expected to find it humorous, but she did, nonetheless.

This would definitely be the source material for the next HR meeting, you could see it now.

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt.6

I know it took forever please forgive me!

I have a couple more ideas for this, if you guys want it to continue

If you think I'm just milking please it let me know, there's so many better fic writers out there I really didnt think this would blow up like it did 🫶

<< Part 5 Part 7 >> Masterlist

You had thought scavenging was difficult however as you stared at the immensely filled shelves you realised choosing was harder. You’d thought to purchase some crackers, just to see if Laura had preferences; however there were twelve different types of Goldfish and Goldfish was just one brand. This whole aisle was overflowing with crackers. It was insane. Who needed this many choices?

Elektra, Gambit and Blade had tagged along, the latter only for company, and they all seemed to be in the same position. Tired eyes mindlessly scanning for anything familiar. Anything that sounded good. Did you even remember the taste of ‘spicy chilli’? Or did you prefer ‘sour cream and chives’?

The shelves were too much and they were tall. You couldn't see over them, couldn't see potential threats or keep an eye on the exits. Why did the aisles need to be this long? They were endless. Endless and bright and colourful and the store was loud. Why were there children running around? There could be anyone around the corner. Each stomp of little feet drilled a hole in your head.

Picking up speed you rounded the corner and hid yourself by a pillar. The thing was an eyesore for the employees, they definitely had trouble stocking the shelves around it, but to you it was bliss.

You rest your forehead against the cool metal and force the air out of your lungs. You took in a big gulp before forcing it out again.

The noise of the store was drowned out by your breathing, by your hammering heart. You could hear vague snippets but it sounded like when an explosion was too close. Warped and muffled at the same time.

“Mon cher?” Gambit placed a light hand on your shoulder, despite how careful he was it still caused you to jerk. “Y/N. You 're okay.” You couldn't tell what was happening but your head was moving. Was it nodding or shaking? Your mouth opened to respond but nothing, bar a few halfhearted noises, could come out. “Y/N.” He tried again, but this had never happened. You'd never felt like this. This pain in your chest. Was… did you survive the Void to have a heart attack? “‘m get ‘ogan.”

You deliriously gave him a thumbs up.

Without any sort of logic or proof you knew the floor was safe. Of course it was, it was a constant. The floor would never leave. It couldn't. So you knelt down, your knees against the linoleum and your head still against the pillar. Or was it a beam? Why was this happening? You used to be able to do this. Why couldn't you fucking shop? All this time you'd had dreams of normality and now it was here and you were too crazy to be here?

Maybe you belonged in the Void. Then again, maybe this was Cassandra. You had thought it previously, everything was far too easy. She could be laughing her ass off at how you reacted to a fake superstore. Imagine.

Noise had slowly started to come back but it was too loud. Too much. Too bright. Why was it so bright? Why did people need to be blasted in the face to see what toothpaste they needed?

Maybe this was it.

Maybe it was the end of the line.

You were just rewatching your life.

That would be... nice.

To know that there was an end.

God, that was depressing.

You didn't mean it that way and you don't know why you thought it but it actually brought you some comfort.

Not enough to stop you hyperventilating on the dirty floors, though.

“Baby?” That was Logan now. Why was he always there to save you? He didn't have to be. Hell, he didn't know you. You might be the worst version of yourself and here he was doting over you.

You didn't deserve that.

What had you done to deserve that type of love?

He had sat out on the fire escape all night and you can't even pick up fucking crackers.

Who even likes crackers!?

“Baby?” He repeated, closer now.

You turned to the side and saw him but also saw through him.

“Can you tell me your name?”

What sort of mind fuckery was this? He knows your name. “Y/N L/N.” Your voice was tiny but he could see the way your mouth formed the words.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

Your eyes stayed trained on his face but you answered using your peripheral. “Two.” The word still small and but now just hardly audible.

“And what's this?” You let your eyes meander down to his hand and saw he was pointing at a scrubbing brush you were hunched by.

You felt your brows pull together in confusion. “Cleaning thing.”

He let out an amused huff but was sincere with his words. “Now, love, what can you hear?”

Hear? You can hear everything. Him mostly. There were footsteps and trolley wheels and the buzzing of the speakers and constant rustling of shopping bags or plastic packaging and chattering and the child running riot was now crying and the checkouts were beeping and the deli counter number was called. “Rustling?”

“What else?”

“Crying.”

“One more?” His voice had lowered, he was more breathy.

“Your breath.”

“Can you follow my breathing?”

It was even. He was breathing in and out. Like literally every other living creature. Even trees could breathe.

“Are you able to move your hand?” He continued, tapping his chest. “Put it here?”

Of course, who did he take you for? You shakily slapped it onto his chest and he held it tight. Taking in the largest breath and releasing it slowly.

He repeated that for a while and slowly you found yourself assimilated. You were copying him with perfect movements.

The constant humming in your head had stopped, the noises were bearable, the lights even seemed duller. “I- I think I'm okay now?”

“Can you stand?” His eyes were darting all over your face, trying to gauge a reaction.

You bit your lip and nodded, moving stiff legs and easing your way up. He was swift with his movements making sure you were one hundred percent okay on your wobbly legs before he stepped back.

“That's never happened before.” You felt tired, drained. Your whole body was on fire. Why was it so sore? You had mentally freaked out and now your body was aching?

“It was an anxiety attack.” He voiced the obvious but could tell you were going to argue so carried on. If he was talking you had to listen. “They're not uncommon for those who've suffered. I’ve had them due to my PTSD.” Maybe you'd feel at ease if you knew he got them as well.

“But I don't have PTSD.”

“I think you might,” You scrunch your face. “the years spent in the Void, couldn't have been easy.”

“We survived.”

“That's what VETs say.”

Your rebuttal died on your tongue as you took two seconds to actually think about it. He might be onto something. “Is that why Stark said we need a therapist?”

“Possibly.”

“The whole time I was in the Void this didn't happen.” You grumbled. “Just carried on.”

“You didn't have time then. Your brain can now process your trauma.” Damn, Lydia - his therapist - was a genius. “In a weird way this is being healthy.”

“It's called an atta-” You huffed, hugging your middle. “I don't care what's happening, I just don't want Laura to see.” You had separated in the store to cover more ground. She had wanted to wander, to see the store for herself, and you had thought you'd be able to gather everything by the time she was headed back to you.

“She may need to see. She mig-she feels like she has to be strong.” He knew what Laura thought because she was him. “She needs to be shown this is okay.”

You were getting frustrated now. “Okay but not yet. Just- I just want a nap. My head hurts. My body, too.”

“Okay, we can leave.” It was not even noon, the others would ask questions about your sleeping pattern.

“Oh wait, no, I don't want her to worry about being noisy.” You tapped your teeth together as you wracked your brain. “Can I nap in your room?”

“Of course.” He would never deny you that, it also was a win-win as he could monitor you without Laura's beady eyes stalking him.

~~

It was safe to say that your “sickness” was the worst kept secret. It was obvious to everyone what had happened and even Wade seemed concerned. So much that he postponed the party.

Logan had settled you into his bed hours ago, checking on you periodically and was just waiting for you to rise. He had nothing better to do.

You were his world.

Laura had knocked once to see if there were any updates but he had told her the truth. That he had nothing to tell and was worried himself.

She walked back with slumped shoulders, a sliver of guilt slid up Logan's back but she was gone before he could make amends.

Another knock pulled him from Laura's disappointed eyes. Logan hoisted himself off of the armchair and opened the door to see Elektra.

She reminded him of Jean in a lot of ways.

“Here.” El handed a bag over. Logan frowned and opened it to see a multi coloured box. He and you had left the store earlier than the others to get home. He had made no purchases, leaving his basket of goods on the floor where you had slumped over. He hated himself for letting you out of his sight but you had strode off so confidently and Blade was talking to him about different moterbikes. Logan was distracted for a millisecond and you had vanished. Why did he take you guys to a store that large?

“Uh.” He didn't know what to say.

“Just invite Laura over and play these.” She spelt it out. “The kid’s worried sick and won't listen to us.”

He accepted the bag and nodded once. “Okay.”

If loving you meant loving Laura he could do that. He didn't dislike the kid but he saw so much of himself in her. And he hated himself.

El turned on her heel and entered her own door, opposite his.

Logan itched his chin and sighed, walking next door. He knocked twice and waited.

Laura opened the door in a grey hoodie and your fluffy socks. “Hello.”

“You, uh, you wanna play connect four?” He shook the plastic bag.

Laura eyed the bag but nodded once and followed him into his home.

Logan's apartment was the same as yours except he had added throws, blankets, books, CDs and LPs and many more home comforts in preparation for your arrival. His home was decidedly cosier and Laura didn't hate it.

“She's still asleep so I thought we could pass the time together.” He spoke as he sat at the dining table. Laura stood behind the chair to his right and awaited instructions. “You can sit, I just need to set this up.”

Logan unravelled the contents of the bag and found Guess Who and Sorry we're sitting beneath Connect Four. He left them both on the table and delved into the first game.

Building the game wasn't difficult and explaining it to Laura was as easy as saying “connect four of the same colour, either portrait, landscape or diagonal”. The picture on the box was practically instructions.

But playing against her was challenging. She knew how to think like him, knew how to outsmart him.

It occurred to him that she was always observing people. She knew his tells. She was always present and did contribute to the conversation but she preferred to watch. To take in.

Laura was very good at connecting four so after a few games he pulled out Guess Who. That was a little bit more complicated.

“Are you George?”

Logan had thought to pick George but went for a random number - seven - and counted his way along the board. “No. Do you have long hair?”

“I do.” She agreed and he flipped the heads. “I was drawn to George so I thought you might've been.”

“You're onto something there.” Logan sipped his cola. He made sure there were snacks and drinks available.

“Blue eyes?”

“No.”

“I don't know how they got your DNA.” Laura had felt guilty. She knew her Logan didn't ask for her to be born and this one didn't even know she was a thing.

“Been around a long time.” He shrugged. “You'll have that to look forward to.”

“How long?”

“Lipstick?” She shook her head. “I've been around a good two-three hundred years.”

Laura let that settle. Would she be around that long? The doctors did thousands of tests on her but none said she'd live an extended period. “Blonde?”

Logan nodded, noticing the shift in her demeanour. “You okay?”

“That is a long time to be alive.” She picked up a chip and snapped it in half. “Y/N will be dead. And El. And Gambit.”

“You might not live as long.” He tried to make that sound like a good thing. “What's your healing factor like?”

“I've never been ‘injured’.”

He thought about that. He couldn't ask her if she had died. That might be too much for the young woman. “And the Adamantium?”

Laura frowned.

“Your claws.”

“What about them?” Finally popping the chip in her mouth.

“The metal isn't part of the mutation.”

“What?” Laura revealed her claws. They came out sharp and shiny. “They've always been like this.”

A little girl. A small child having the procedure that almost killed him. She definitely would live as long as he does. “It's bone, they added the metal.”

Laura observed her claws, hand swivelling. She had never known them to be bone. Would they even be effective?

“It's alright, though,” he shrugged, giving her a cheesy thumbs up. “You have Blade and me to keep you company.” Laura smiled and rolled her eyes. “Are you Claire?”

~~

The next few days were okay. You were still achy and found it difficult to move but you weren't totally invalid.

In fact you were playing with your newest toy. A telecommunication device. Or a phone.

Wade had burst into the front room, you all collectively sat in, paper bags in hand.

“Guys, I hope you know how odd it was for me to walk in there and ask for five phones. They thought I was a drug dealer.”

Blind Al kissed her teeth. “You could've been buying company phones, idiot.”

“Oh.” Wade slumped. “Maybe it was the meth I offered the cashier…” He handed each of you a box and squeezed himself between Gambit and Al.

There were two sofas that you all were occupying. You were sitting next to Logan, a blanket covering the two of you. Laura was sitting on the floor in front of you, she had done so you could braid her hair but decided to stay. El was perched on the arm of Al’s sofa, Gambit and Wade next to Al, and Blade was standing at Logan's side.

The setup of each phone was easy. Technology was a lot faster than you remembered.

El spoke before you all got distracted. “We have to save each other's numbers.” She knew the collective braincell liked to wander.

Each of you read out your number whilst the others typed it in. But as that happened the phones asked for a contact picture. Now that caused chaos.

El was smiling sweetly in the first pic and looked like she was being held hostage in the last. Gambit had his eyes shut and a middle finger up in practically every one. Blade was exactly the same, it was eerie, he stood statue still as you all snapped him. Laura’s eyes were confused but she did force a smile. You threw up a peace sign just for Wade to tell you it wasn't 2001 anymore. Wade had a different pose for each phone and they were all more elaborate than the last. Al didn't want to participate at all. And finally Logan, much like Laura, faked a smile until you and her took the pics.

Photos were fun. You liked photos. You'd had a trusty Polaroid back in the day and loved snapping pictures, but this was amazing. The photos were really detailed and you had them all saved in a ‘gallery’.

“You happy with the camera?” Logan asked as he saw you in the settings reading what each symbol meant.

“Yeah it's really good and I can take front facing photos.” You smiled at yourself. “Look!” Logan's eyes dropped to his face and he raised an eyebrow as you tapped the button. He huffed out a disbelieving laugh and you snapped again. “You're smiling!” You giggled to yourself, leaning forward. “Laura look.” Laura was playing about with dark mode and she turned her head to see you and her. “We can take a photo.”

Laura smiled and you poked your tongue out as you snapped. You made a heart shape with your hand and got her to copy it, snapping another.

“Logan, get in.” You begged.

He sighed - completely for show - and moved closer. “This angle is all chins.”

You frowned.

“Laura, come and sit up here.” He pat the slither of space between you two. She complied and you tried to get everyone in. “Y/N angle the phone.” You did as instructed and you all smiled.

The phone was heavy in your hands and an awkward shape, your old phone was a flip and easier to hold. “Do the heart thing whilst I hold this.”

The wolverines did.

You took some more, without noticing Wade was in the background, and eventually ceased, sixty-four photos later.

“This is so much fun.”

Wade watched you swiping through the photos, “Just you wait, pumpkin, ‘til you get a hold of the apps.”

“Apps?”

“Like little things on your phone.” He scrunched his face. “Like Snapchat or Instagram or Facebook.”

“I know Facebook.” You nodded. “It was an internet thing, like MySpace.”

“Now it's on an app.”

“Oh.” Was all you had in response. Wade showed you how to get to the app store - Logan, carefully, watching to make sure he wasn't being a little shit - and showed you how to ‘download an app’.

“I have to put my phone number in?” You stared at the screen.

“If that's what it says.” Wade had noticed Al and Gambit speaking again so upped and left. He laid himself across the two of them. “Just follow the steps.”

Okay.

You could do that.

Shit.

The first hurdle.

It asked for your date of birth.

Technically your date of birth was different now, no?

“What do I put?” You asked Logan over Laura's head. “I'm not that old.”

“Just do the maths, put the correct day and month but subtract the years.” He suggested.

“My date of birth would mean I can't have this app.” Laura commented. “Not over eighteen.” She had followed the instructions Wade told you and was now in the same dilemma.

“Do the same but backwards.” Logan tried.

You both, then, had to pick a profile picture. You had the photos on your phone and picked one of you three.

“I don't have a photo of myself.” Laura pressed the camera button and jumped. “Do-do I just take one?”

You smiled. “If you want to.”

“You don't have to have a picture.” Logan supplied.

Laura bit her lip but did decide to take one, she gave a small smile. “Is that okay?”

“You look lovely.” You squeezed her arm.

The two of you had just finished messing about with Facebook when you both received a notification.

‘Elektra Natchios had sent a friend request’, you looked up at her and quickly added.

Gambit and Blade didn't delve into Facebook, the former said he couldn't be bothered the latter told you it was too public.

You suppose Blade is right. But at the same time this is familiar. This is a way to find people. To potentially seek out your family. Or at least see if they exist.

You were just putting the phone away when another friend request popped up. ‘Logan Howlett has sent you a friend request’. He had no profile picture or cover photo and no posts. He did have friends, some of whom you recognised as the X-Men.

“Do you speak to them?” You swivelled your phone, displaying the friends.

“Charles has told them who I am and why I'm here. They accept anyone, they were eager to listen to my story. Probably waiting for you, now.”

“I don't think I can just add them.” Your fingers hovered over Hank’s fuzzy face.

“Then don't.”

“Why don't you have any pictures?”

“I don't really do pictures.”

You weren't too quick but opened your gallery. “You did here.”

“That was with you two.” He gave you a half shrug. “It's different.”

~~

Texting was fun.

You taught Laura all the old slang you used to use. BRB, LOL, TTYL, 411.

Laura did use some of them but preferred to text properly, she had spent a good portion of her time in EDEN and the Void learning basic reading and writing, why would she throw that away?

You were laying in Logan's bed, having claimed it four days ago, listening as his TV played music. He had shown you how to go onto YouTube via the TV and you were very much a fan of these Apps. You did feel a little guilty because you had effectively intruded on his space but his bed was comfy and smelled like him. God it was heavenly.

Why did he smell so good?

Y/N: nighty night beautiful x

Laura: Goodnight x

You had drilled into Laura the importance of kisses. A kiss at the end of the text was vital.

You came out of your messages, having texted the others ‘night’.

Gambit: see ya tomorrow

El: Night, love x

Blade: night

It was a routine you all wouldn't dare abandon. Whether or not you lived in this apartment all your lives you knew you'd all stick to saying goodnight. You had done for five years.

You pressed on Logan's name and sent him a message.

“Why are you texting me?” Logan called through the wall. You could hear his footsteps, sitting up, you waited. It wasn't long before the door was opened and Logan revealed himself.

Jesus. H. Christ.

Why was he shirtless? Your brain short circuited whenever his wide chest and mouth watering abs were in view. His torso was covered in soft hair your fingers itched to grab.

“I-I was just saying ‘night’.” You snapped your jaw shut.

“Oh, I thought you needed me.” He ran a hand through his hair.

You liked his short hair but you missed his fluffy locks. Nothing better than running your hands through them.

You were both now just gazing at each other.

He looked glorious, you felt self conscious. He could literally be a Grecian God, you could picture statues being made in his honour.

“You wanna-” Your eyes darted away. “You wanna sit with me?”

Why were you so awkward?

This was your husband friend.

Logan’s eyes widened an inch but he did nod. “Yeah sure.”

He made his way to the right side and plonked down. His weight caused you to slide a little over but you quickly righted yourself. You plucked the remote off of your knees and turned David Bowie down.

“I wanted to thank you.” You fiddled with the remote. “And I'm sorry I've stolen your bed.”

Logan shrugged. “You weren't well and I'd never kick you out of my bed.”

He was admitting things that were as innocent as they were damning.

“You're cute.”

“Hmm.” He raised his brow. “I remember you claiming that.”

There wasn't much more to say, instead you both listened as ‘ashes to ashes’ changed to ‘modern love’.

“This was my favourite song.” You commented, leaning your temple on his shoulder.

“I remember.” He agreed.

Pulling your head up in shock, “you do?”

“Yeah.” His eyes glanced at the screen. “My Y/N liked it too.”

“Do you- is this weird?”

“I don't know.”

“Do you miss your Y/N?”

He considered the question. “I didn't have enough of her. I think I missed the 'what ifs' and now I know you and him were married, it feels worse. What about you?”

“I miss him, it is a little weird to see you walking around with his face. It's odd because we slept together and I am attracted to you but there's that obstacle. Now the world isn't ending, we have to face the consequences of our actions, you know?” You hoped he understood what you meant. “Is it wrong to want you? You are so much like him yet I don't know you.”

You had said a lot of really important things, however he was stuck on just one. “You want me?”

That caused you to chuckle. “Of course, look at yourself. Sex on legs.”

He didn't care for moral dilemmas the way you did. You wanted him. He wanted you. It may just be his animal brain but, surely, that was the end of it.

“I mean you almost killed me walking in here all shirtless and tanned.”

You were trying to joke to defuse the tension but his eyes told you it wasn't working. They were heavy, lidded and staring straight into your soul. “As if you in my shirt, in my bed, hasn't done the same.” He spoke directly to your lips.

Oh yeah. For quickness you had borrowed a shirt, using it as a nightie. “Please, I'm not nearly as gorgeo-”

He cut you off with a kiss.

You melted.

Of course you did.

It was Logan.

Your hands found his cheek and chest. Both threading through the respective hair.

Logan slid his tongue across your bottom lip in a silent question and you were quick to answer. He kissed you frantically, needing you more than oxygen.

You were slowly being pressed into the mattress. It was a perk of the Adamantium, he was heavier than he meant and that solid mass turned you on.

You had to break the kiss to catch your breath and he merely explored your neck. Your ragged breaths were now being cut off as you spluttered and gasped.

Fuck.

Your hand on his cheek had meandered to his nape where you tugged at the hair as you twitched in pleasure, your back arching.

What were you saying earlier?

Consequences of actions?

None of that mattered when he bit down.

The position that he had manoeuvred you in caused your left leg to wrap around his hip as he kept nipping your neck. He loved to mark you.

Even if he didn't ‘claim’ you as his, back in the day, everyone knew because he would mark you. It was the animal in him. He needed the world to know who you belonged to.

“Logan.” You let out a breathy whisper against his temple.

The man raised his head to gaze into your eyes. Fuck. They were blown wide.

“Tell me to stop.” He warned.

You couldn't. Why would you?

Your response was a silent head shake.

Logan's eyes landed back onto your lips and he dipped to devour them.

His hands, that had been at your sides, were moving in opposite directions. One slid up to rest just under your breast and the other travelled down. Fingers tickling a path down to your core.

He played with the waistband of your underwear, pulling it taught against you and watching the wet patch smear.

Logan smirked and kissed your chin, then your neck, your collar bone, spent a while on your chest - licking and biting, claiming you, yet again - and then your stomach and finally kissed the material just above your core.

He swiped his tongue along the fabric and barely loosened his hold, before tearing it with his teeth.

By fuck.

This man would kill you one day.

The torn fabric hung loosely as he nuzzled his way between your folds, forcing your thighs over his shoulders. His nose separated the slick lips as he then ran his tongue across them. He fluttered his tongue around the wet hole and collected the slick on his muscle before depositing it on your clit. He took extra care caressing the sensitive bud, swirling his tongue sweetly.

The noises that came out of your mouth were whorish, you sounded like a two-bit 80s porn star and he loved every one.

Eventually Logan added a finger to your hole, it eased in, and curled it as he pumped his hand.

You tried so hard to keep it down, to try to sound less pornographic, but he was a monster. He knew how to get you going. In fact you were on the verge right now. Any second you'd be cumming on his finger.

“Keep going.” You begged.

Logan hummed in response and it vibrated your clit.

“Fuck, do that again.”

He began humming as he added a second finger and you saw stars. You clamped down and let out a moan as you came.

He kept pumping his fingers and lapped up your slick until you groaned and tapped his shoulder to give you a moment's respite.

Logan stilled his tongue with a frown but kissed your thighs, biting the pillowy flesh.

“Shit.” You looked down, dazed, at his smug face. “Fuck, you're perfect.”

“I can take my time with you now.” He admitted. “I couldn't back in the Void, not like I wanted to.”

“You did a pretty good job then, too.” You recalled.

He rolled his eyes but continued placing languid kisses on your abdomen. “You are the perfect one. This pussy is delicious.”

His devotion caused you to bite your lip. “Fuck me.” You order.

“I like it down here.” He suggested nuzzling his nose on your clit.

Your argument died with the groan that forced its way out of you.

He sucked at your clit and you swore you ripped strands of his hair out. It was a shame because his hair was so soft.

Logan lapped at your pussy all he wanted, building you up slowly.

“Do me a favour?” He spoke between your folds, they muffled him a little. “Hands and knees?”

You nodded, deliriously and eased your way up, spinning to present yourself like a needy bitch.

Logan growled at the sight, your dripping pussy spread for him.

He buried his face, again, but carried on upwards. His tongue now circling your other hole. You twitched at the new sensation but found you enjoyed it just as much so let him have his fun.

He kept playing with you, teasing you with his fingers until you were shaking.

“Logan.” You warned.

He seemed to understand because he kept the same rhythm, rather than interrupting, and you came again.

He milked your orgasm again and licked a stripe from your clit to your ass, across your spine and back up to your neck.

“Mine.” He growled in your ear as you felt his tip line up. Both of his hands were on you, underneath his shirt, caressing your tits so it amazed you that you felt him notch and slowly ease his head into you.

Your eyes crossed in pleasure as he pulled out and pushed back in, the hole so wet it squelched louder than you could moan.

He huffed, unhappy with your shirt and ripped another item of clothing you were wearing. The shirt was discarded behind you but the waistband of your panties still sat on your hips, slowly moving higher with each thrust.

You knew he was holding himself back, afraid he'd hurt you, so as he pushed in you pushed back.

You cried out as he hit that spot inside you. “Harder.”

Logan caught your drift and picked up the pace. It really didn't take a lot of convincing.

He slammed into you from behind, pushing you further into the mattress, making you present yourself more.

He sat up and if he could die, he wanted this to be the last thing he saw.

You were amazing.

He collected all of your hair and eased you upwards, once again, nipping at your nape. There was something about the nape that transfixed him. He loved your smell and you smelt the most from your nape, he adored it but his own mingled with yours was something else entirely.

He needed you.

It was so painfully obvious.

How had he not admitted that to his version of you?

What a fucking idiot he was.

“Lo.” You could only say his name but he knew. You were close.

“Mmhmm.” He agreed, nibbling your earlobe. “I need another one, c’mon.”

You couldn't even hear his request over your third orgasm. This was different though. This was wetter. You instantly worried, what was happening? But Logan gasped.

“Fuck.” He stuttered inside you, pushing you down as his claws made an appearance at each side of your shoulders. “Fuck did you just squirt?”

“I-I don't know.” Your voiced muffled into the pillow, a hand patted your utterly soaked legs. “I've not done that before.”

He groaned, still rocking inside you. Logan held himself up via his claws and pounded into you with a whole new energy. He was frantic, frenzied. It didn't take long for him to spill inside.

His claws still barely held his weight but he wouldn't crush you.

“Shit, sorry.” He spoke once his senses returned. “I should've as-”

“Shut up, that was more than fine.” You panted against the pillow.

Logan kissed your temple and slowly retracted from the mattress and you. As soon as he was out you felt empty.

“Hmm.” You grumbled.

“What?” He chuckled.

“Put it back in.”

Logan knew you were real but he found himself in disbelief that someone this perfect could exist.

“Let's swap positions and I will.” He flopped over onto his spine and you followed sheathing his dick back into you.

You groaned and found yourself relaxing onto his chest.

This was possibly the best day you'd ever had.

“I'm sleepy but wake me up in an hour and we can do that again.” You gave him a cheeky wink.

Part 7

@geeksareunique @lovelyvaderx @melissa-ashe @st1nkabutt @maximumchilddreamland @ravenmedows @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @bisasterbisexual @tzurue @narniansmagic @seamlessepiphany

[hopeless-avo]

AU | SY Transmigrates as Someone Else | WQW Edition

ヾ⁠(⁠*⁠’⁠Ｏ⁠’⁠*⁠)⁠/~

In this world, when attempting to transfer SY into SQQ, the system glitches.

This glitch happens as the ‘SQQ villain’ role is still occupied, meaning SQQ would have still been present in his body, probably being able to counteract/treat the Qi deviation when it started, as he had some magical herb or another that he had on him due to his previous occurrences and history of bad deviations, so he survives.

SY is just there in the system’s waiting room, watching this screen and text glitch out.

He questions this malfunctioning system on wtf it wants him to do /who he would have become, cause come on, obviously he was gonna be isekai’ed and has suspicions on where he would be going as of what he was going off about and the voices he heard before he expired.

He chooses to shelve his panic and grief for later when he has time to process and mourn once he removes himself from whatever the fuck this situation is, cause like duh, he is dead he’ll never see his family againohmygod-

Anyways, he finds out that he would have been placed in SQQ’s body and nope what the hell do you want me to die?!?! and tries to see if he could be anyone else, ‘cause like come on, it’s PIDW!

He wants to at least be able to see all the cool flora and fauna if he has no choice of what world he will be living in, and although living as a woman may mean he gets to live longer, there is the threat of the heavenly pillar and the sudden transition of living as a man to a woman would be just too jarring.

So! After the system sorta relents at seeing that this guy is giving it another way to operate as well as saving its ass from being taken to see its higher-ups, it gives a list of potential other people that he can become that sorta has similar power and potential to affect the plot as being SQQ would have granted, although never as much given SQQ’s natural predisposition.

SY gets given the choice of LQG, QQQ, The Old Palace Master, Gongyi Xiao, and a few others.

Given his desire of wanting to live a relatively alive existence, he forgoes the more plot-present characters, such as Gongyi Xiao and The Old Palace Master, as well as LQG (cause he does not want to get shanked by SQQ, please and thank you), and due to previous arguments and reasons, he forgoes QQQ.

He looks over the remaining names and sees WQW, a character that doesn’t actually appear or get mentioned much in PIDW, is known to be the peak lord of the sword-forging peak, has massive muscles and has literally, like, one line when LBH got sent over and picked up Zheng Yang.

Additionally, the guy owns that sword that can tell if someone is possessed, so he would only have to stay away from the thing if the system doesn’t ensure that he can’t be ousted as such.

With this, SY as WQW would be living his best life as this guy bc he can fly on his sword all day and stay away from the plot while planning his escape when Cang Qiong Mountain Sect sets alight!

So with his choice made, SY, now WQW, wakes up half-disorientated, his forearms aching and the sounds of crying children and concerned/panicked teenagers.

After he gets dragged to Qian Cao Peak, the still-glitching system gives him the rundown of the situation of how he entered his new body; apparently Original!WQW got caught up in trying to stop a disciple from experimenting with volatile sword materials and the forge blew up as he tried to do damage control after he got everyone out, gaining a head injury and leaving him with plausible temporary amnesia, in addition to a sort of broken/glitched OOC lock that gradually corrupts over time till it's gone due to the vague understanding of the guy.

SY|WQW [we’ll just call him WQW from now on] realised that he was placed in PIDW a few months before the disciple choosing where LBH officially enters the sect, gets picked, and then is abused by SQQ [future him problem!!!] and although he doesn’t want LBH to face all those injustices, the system will not let him take purposeful actions to change certain plot points in the face of system punishment.

After he is fully released from Qian Cao Peak, he is expected by both the sect and mandated by the system to attend the disciple choosing.

While watching the poor children climb the massive staircase and start digging their hole to the best of their ability in an attempt to become a part of the prestigious sect and change the course of their life which they would most likely wish they didn’t join when LBH sets this place on fire…and sees what he thinks is a smol fluffy girl who has the determination and a spark in her eye attempting to dig a massive hole meticulously to catch the eye of a peak lord.

He runs through each wife in LBH’s harem to see if he can match this cute jie-jie with, and can’t seem to match her.

Looking around, he takes note that the other peak lords are overlooking her, seemingly disinterested or glancing her over with slight disgust at her thoroughly worn-through but obviously meticulously cleaned-up/washed clothing.

His eyeing had caught the eye of a little girl, most likely NYY who stood next to who he could only assume to be SQQ. She asks SQQ something about having a new martial sibling, which draws the attention of both SQQ and LQG to the girl.

Obviously having changed something as now NYY is eyeing this girl instead of her future demon harem husband system don’t punish me, as well as placing this jie-jie in the lane of SQQ, who is eyeing her with an unnamed but obviously not good look cause this cute girl is in front of a lecherous man as well as in the sight of LQG who wow has such a womanly visage I'd have thought that he would be more gruff who is set to die off in a few years and is peak lord of a boyish and brutish peak which he doesn't think that such a pretty jie-jie should be on, there is only one thing he can do!

So, at the end of the day, he ends up picking this smol bean before these ppl can get their hands on her, as obviously she wasn’t accepted in the original PIDW and if she had lived would have most likely ended up as a harem member, cause no way would such a cute bean not grow up and not catch the eye of LBH!

Obviously he won't let her suffer such a fate or leave her in the hands of SQQ. This causes some of his martial siblings to side-eye him, as he has a history of choosing more well-built candidates and not skinny dirty runts that look like death-warmed-over.

This smol jie-jie has sparkles in her eyes as she gets called over by one of WQW’s runners, which light up more the closer she gets to her new to-be-Shuzin!!! HIM!

WQW feels proud of his choice and decides that that is enough of tempting fate and the system, so he turns to leave, promising himself to ensure this little jie-jie lives her best life away from the plot [and LBG and his harem] on his peak!

…not seeing the system glitching and erroring to hell and back, not able to punish him as it was not a purposeful choice and raging in its system space at the hell that its higher-ups would put it through.

All because SY|WQW didn’t take note of the child’s outerwear. :)

[oceansprompts]

text message prompts

[text] You okay?

[text] GO TO BED!

[text] hey you better be alive in there

[text] SOS save me please holy shit

[text] call me this date is going so bad

[text] I have way too much shit to do.

[text] Honestly I'm really worried about you.

[text] Why are you trending on Twitter?

[text] Please let me come over and pet your (pet).

[text] We are in the same building, you could come talk to me.

[text] It's not going to work out.

[text] This is a terrible idea.

[text] people have fetishes

[text] They really do crucify anyone these days huh

[text] I don't know why but that really means me want to stab you

[text] That movie was awful.

[text] For the love of god please help me

[text] I fucked up. I fucked up really bad.

[text] I'm blocking you.

[text] YOU ONE BRAINCELLED BITCH

[text] I regret swiping right.

[text] Everyone lies on their dating profiles.

[text] That absolutely can't be an actual picture of you.

[text] This forced open my third eye and I saw the devil

[text] I'm like a child in line for the newest fucked up disney ride

-

[text] That's just all fucking sorts of fucked up

[text] Why are we here? To suffer? Every other day I get messages that cause pain

[text] In the department of old man fucking, we've got you beat.

[text] have you gotten any work done?

[text] I am beyond shame, try again

[text] You left your left your underwear at my place.

[text] Don't you dare put this on Facebook.

[text] My brother in Christ you're being haunted

[text] I want to wring you like a wet towel and slap you against a wall

[text] The mind is weak but the body is funky

[text] I'm a zombie the law can't stop me.

[text] Jealous of my massive honkers

[text] We left you to die to play minecraft

[text] She would never ever take away one of these stupid fucking hats

[text] I puked all over the Uber driver's backseat.

[text] I just took a screenshot of that and posted it to Reddit

[text] You said you'd be right back and it's been months.

[text] Can't we talk about this face to face?

[text] Yeah, you'll come learn I just have a thing for milk

[text] Why did you like one of my pics from 2014?

[text] Now's as good a time as any to exchange nudes.

[text] Why would you send me an eggplant emoji?

[text] I write five paragraphs, pouring my heart out, and all you reply with is k?!

[text] Who would dare to lie on the internet?

[text] When I die, please delete all my shit off the internet

[text] He's so hot, I briefly started texting like a straight person

[text] And because I'm god and I've decided that; no, in fact, I'm not done.

-

[text] I know you love bloopy reggae jams, now is not the time.

[text] You better not be standing catatonic in your room again.

[text] God has abandoned his children but unfortunately for you I pay child support and I will smite thee.

[text]: My neighbor just told me he can fix my water heater for 50 bucks. I’m skeptical.

[text]: Do you have any idea how much it costs to buy apples? I paid 10 dollars for 6.

[text]: I mean, I wouldn’t say I have a problem with buying Squishmallows..

[text]: Hey, so you know how you told me no dog? *sends pic* I don’t do well with no’s.

[text] Stuart Little is a bitch and Remy could take him any day.

[text]: My roommate just said that Lola Bunny is hot. I’m moving out.

[text]: Hey I posted that vid of you drunk, singing Ariana Grande, wearing all black and people said not to do it again. Sorry.

[text]: Do you think the price is ever right? Like, I feel like it’s not.

[text]: I booped your nose. Boop the last five people you texted or–nothing happens really.

[text]: I’m actually in the ER and it’s a long story that involves Best Day Ever from spongebob.

[text]: I fucking hate you–wait you’re not my ex. Who are you?

[text]: You ever ask yourself if birds see a bee and just go ‘wow a bee’? im high.

[text]: sometimes all i think about is–sour patch kids. bet you thought it was you.

[text]: I love you—not as much as I love my dog. But still a lot!

[text]: I found a cat on the way home and now it’s mine. But it hates my guts so this should be fun.

[text]: I have questions about the marvel cinematic universe…how long do you have?

[text]: why do donald duck and winnie the pooh not have to wear pants but other people do?

[text]: Hey you know that show floor is lava? I may have turned the apartment into that..this isn’t a joke, btw. the floor is sticky.

[text]: I bought too much soap off etsy and now I don’t know what to do with it…I smell like Captain America.

[text]: On a scale of one to ten, how many drinks would you need to sleep with me? This isn’t a tiktok trend…or it is.

[psychotrenny]

Incredibly fucking miserable how many people were all over helping Palestinians purely because it made them feel personally good and heroic, like some sort of saviour to the helpless women and children of Gaza. Because now that this whole genocide is old news and they're getting bored of it they've been looking for any excuse they can to stop caring and move on, to ignore all that suffering while still retaining their "good person" status. They'll literally do the work of the Zionists for them, spreading vicious and baseless lies about the legitimacy of life-saving fundraising efforts, just so they can discard the cause of Palestine without the slightest shred of guilt. Deeply fucking vile. At the absolute bare minimum, I hope none of them ever live this down

[jweekgoji]

Yandere!Five/Reader.

wow how long has it been? two years since I wrote something for TUA? I still haven't rewatched it since I'm finally catching up with breaking bad but I hope I'll rewatch TUA next week or so. for some strange reason I feel that weird feeling like I need to come back to my fav fictional family with bread and milk and concentrate on it ughhh. when I rewatch it I will check that requests I had before for TUA and will finish them!

tw: yandere Five, unhealthy obsession, mentions of the reader's death, Five has ZERO moments of peace here, angst, controlling Five, mentions of Five's childhood, sort of happy ending?

I'm probably describing my thoughts sooo bad don't be mad please

Like we know, Reginald wasn't afraid to use his own «children» for every heroic mission. Bank robbery? He'll make a 14 year old kids deal with it. Some villains are trying to cause problems? Well, another time to test Number 1's leadership skills, no time for a happy childhood, kiddos! And that is basically what their life is.

Basically, the only source from which they can get the feeling of being needed, loved by the public, and recognized, if not by their father but by the citizens. Reginald trained them well, as long as there are 6 of them, they can deal with any kind of problem. I mean, come on, they're THE Hargreeves, one of the strongest people in the world who have unique superpowers, it's not like something might go wrong one day.

Five was always the most compatible member of the team, always trying to be the best. Despite only being the fifth in the ranking, it doesn't stop him from showing off every time he taunts another criminal, making them lose their minds in attempts to catch him.

It was another day when he and his siblings would find a criminal to deal with. Everything went smoothly, as Luther would discuss the plan with everyone. Klaus and Ben would be outside waiting for the signal, Allison and Luther would be the ones to distract the criminals from the hostages and Diego should disarm them before causing any serious trouble. Five would be the one who would save the hostages.

I think his abilities help the most in such situations. He can teleport any person away in just seconds and lead them into safety, no one would even notice. And if something happens, Five is capable enough to fight by himself.

You are the last hostage he protects now. He had already saved more than 10 people non-stop before, and for some reason, his powers refused to work. It's not like he is weak or something, no, no, just give him some time to catch his breath, and he will continue in a moment! He can't let someone see him like this, let alone let his father find out about this little problem.

He would huff and puff about it, probably imagining how Diego or Klaus were teasing him, how Five was losing his cool and accidentally forgetting how his own powers were working due to what a pretty little hostage Five talked to! And they're close to his age too, so it would be natural for his age to get shy and awkward in front of someone cute he found~! Well, at least it's exactly what he imagines hearing from Klaus after the mission.

Five wasn't quiet around people, usually. He enjoys talking with his siblings, well, with some of them—and he finds it amusing to toy with criminals.

For some reason, he is quiet around you.

Of course, he would try to reassure you that everything is fine, he is a good guy here, and soon enough, you would be safe. The only thing you have to do is just listen to him and follow his lead.

He didn't suspect everything, of course, and was so full of himself even at such an age, thinking nothing would go wrong. You were around his age, and naturally, despite being an arrogant little brat, he did find you quite cute. Maybe, if he had a different life, he would have approached you in different circumstances.

But Five learned the hard way that he's not the strongest and could never be the number one. He would never be able to save everyone. He just stopped paying attention for a one damn second, and the next thing he heard, was a gunshot. Five could feel your hand slipping away from his own, and he would look back just in time to see you almost stumbling, only to catch you in his own arms. Blood painted his dark blue uniform in red.

After that incident, Five became more obsessed with the idea of time travelling. If at first he wanted to prove to his father that he is capable of much more, to show that he's actually much better than everyone, this idea also feeds off his guilt. His first mistake, the only time he failed to do his task. And he just can't let go of it, no matter how much Viktor tries to tell him that it's really not his fault, that he couldn't predict it.

And then, during dinner, he runs away, despite Viktor silently begging him not to do it. Then he blinks again, again, and again, until it's nothing but ruins surrounding him. Until The Handler decides to pay him a visit, expect that he will probably be much more calculative and controlling. 40 years of being alone did it's horrible job on his mind, every day trying to survive while thinking about a possible way out of this situation. Maybe, if he makes much better calculations, he will actually succeed. But being away from humanity for so long makes him crave human contact, he already had that mannequin, Dolores, he could find, talking every day to her about how he actually missed his family, how he wants at least some kind of sick normalcy he had back in the academy. At least he had a place to live without worrying every day about his own survival.

During these moments, where he actually gives himself some time to be weak, he wonders would he still do this if you were still alive? Would he still risk everything just to make his father proud?

He didn't know much about you before. The police shortly said that day that one of the employees had a child in the building, and they were taken hostages by the villains. You were around his age, a young, probably promising student in your normal school, with caring parents and friends who worried about you. Something he craved deeply, even though he would have never admitted it.

When he couldn't have teleported you away safely, he led you through the second way out. He can tell you were scared. Of course, who wouldn't be? It's not like you were used to it. He isn't the gentlest person, more like focused on the business and how to end it all as fast as possible. But you were shaking mess, asking from time to time if it's safe or is actually everything okay? Five, in his some kind of nonchalant and gruff manner, would only nod, reassuring you that his siblings probably dealt with the villains by that time.

You looked so normal for him. You had no powers, no one made you train every day just to bend you into their high expectations, you didn't have to compete for someone's love and approval. You acted like he's just a normal person too, never bothering him with questions about his brothers or a sister, not trying to peek into some secret life of the Hargreeves family. Do you even know who he is?

Eventually, he can't remember who exactly started the dialogue. Was it you, who just wanted to talk about something so boring like your school life, or like that you probably skipped a few classes and missed a math test? Or was it him, remembering his trainings how he should try to make the worried and scared hostage less afraid by making a small talk with them? He's too old to remember every single detail. But he certainly remembered that he at least listened to what you said to him. That he was actually looking at you, giving you his full attention.

Maybe if he was born into a normal family, he would have had a chance to live that normal life with you. But that would be too kind to wish for, wasn't it? Now, that his hands are covered in blood of so many innocent people he had to kill, asking for a normal life is impossible. Even after taking hundreds of lives, he still can't understand why is the sight of yours in his hands any different? He thought he would be used to it by now. What kind of evil God makes him see it over and over again, in every goddamn timeline?

First, it was a villain killing you right in front of him. Second, it was the Swedes who killed you the next day they saw Five trying to talk to you. He almost lost his mind when he spotted you living near the same hotel where his siblings and he decided to stay. But once again, the more problems just followed, leading to another damn disaster to take you away.

When he lost his powers, he didn't know if he should feel relieved or more concerned about it. Of course, that means that he probably has to find Reginald, to get more answers about what the hell happened in this new universe. But that also meant that he finally has a chance to live like a normal person too. Like you did.

He was unfamiliar with this world. He felt lost, humiliated most of the time now that everyone treat him like he's actually younger than he is. At least people stopped treating him like a child, yet he still has to deal with someone underestimating him. He has to find a job, a place to live, for God's sake, how the hell is he going to live without any documents here?

The fate seemed to be connecting you two once again, as it seemed. You would meet him accidentally, one time you just saw him visiting a café you were working for and the same process would repeat again. This time, he would actually remember every single little detail. He would approach you first, carefully and as politely as he could. He still thinks that if he makes even the smallest mistake, he would experience your loss once again. This time he won't screw up, he would plan everything strictly to his scenario. Your meeting, your first date, your first 'I love you'. You might think he's just the most perfect guy you ever met, which actually... would not be so far from the truth? ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

[flightyquinn]

thinking about how cursed objects work in most fantasy RPGs.

typically, they wind up just kind of being a big middle finger from the game master - a kind of "whelp, you should have been more paranoid, so now you get hosed" sort of deal. which includes the somewhat game-y trope of objects that you can't get rid of. it's kind of an un-fun mechanic, when you think about it, which is why in most games I've been a part of cursed items often don't see much play, unless it's as a "punishment", or part of a story arc.

...which naturally leads me to think about how to do it better. in the past, I've tried using a curse as a kind of limiter. restrictions or drawbacks to a mostly functional item that is still worth using despite being "cursed". that's good, but it doesn't let you draw on truly nasty curses, because the item needs to be worth using, but also still needs to be balanced.

so, I'm drawing from a lot of sources here, like the cursed shield in Final Fantasy VI, and especially the comics by @foldingfittedsheets, where curses exist to (literally) teach the recipient a lesson

MEAT OF THE POST STARTS HERE:

what about cursed items that have a way to overcome their curse?

it's actually a fairly common trope in classical literature / fairy tales. every curse has a way to be broken. yet in D&D and Pathfinder, most often the only way to break a curse is to find someone with the specific curse-breaking spell.

so, give each cursed item a condition. perhaps a weapon that fuels a person's anger and causes them to fly into a blind rage in battle waits for them to sincerely forgive a hated enemy. perhaps boots that slow the wearer are actually making them heavy with the weight of past transgressions and a sufficient act of atonement will free them. maybe the perpetually bloody doll that gives its bearer horrible nightmares simply waits for someone to be motivated to action by them, either to right some past wrong, or generally bring a certain number of murderers to proper justice.

...maybe a Bag of Devouring. which is technically actually a creature, not a cursed item (but usually classified with them), can be befriended by figuring out a treat it likes, and will not only carry things for the player if fed and cared for, but even cough up a few things that previous bearers had stuffed inside.

the specifics aren't too important, but the idea is that any item with a curse on it has a reason for that curse, and a way to break it. the players can drop the item at any time, sell it off, give it to someone they hate, whatever, but if they put in the time and energy to actually breaking the curse, it becomes better than it was before, sometimes simply losing a drawback, or sometimes gaining new powers.

for an example, let's look at how that doll idea from earlier could work in D&D 5e;

while the party has the doll in their possession, they will all be afflicted by horrible nightmares, seeing themselves as children being attacked by a group of eight bandits with indistinct features. the details of the dreams change each night, and the players awaken before learning their ultimate fate, but the general gist is always that they are completely helpless, and subjected to harm.

after a long rest, have them roll a Wisdom or Charisma save (challenging DC, but not too difficult), or take a small amount of psychic damage.

if the players bring murderers to justice - meaning deliver them to the proper authorities and see them punished for their crimes - the content of the dreams starts to change. one bandit gets caught or killed by the end of the dream for each real world criminal successfully punished, possibly hinting to the players what they need to do. once eight murderers in total have had their sentences enacted, the next morning the doll will be in pristine condition with a serene expression, emitting a faint glow. thereafter, any player may attune to the doll to gain the ability to cast the Guidance cantrip without components (as thought the doll's ability to project what it wants the players to do into their mind was turned to their benefit.

[ldrfanatic]

r2 mattheo riddle

the truth from my red lips

mattheo riddle x gryff!potter!reader

r2 - “you and me would be a BIG conversation”

taylor swift lyric prompts

slytherin boys works

“y/n!” you turned at the sound of your name. colin creevy, a second year, was running up to you with the two issues of the daily prophet. on the first was a picture of your cousin, harry potter, bloodied and stunned following his win at the triwizard tournament. the front of the second sported another stunned headshot of him at his trial for underage magic in the presence of a muggle. (dudley, the disgusting boy on your the other side of the family).

with the new school year it was all anyone could talk about. well that, and that he and dumbledore had both gone mad spouting “nonsense” that voldemort had returned. especially since the lovely minister of magic cornelius fudge was vehemently denying it.

the boy brandished the papers in front of you once more.

“can you have harry sign these?”

suddenly, you were reminded of why you’d never ever wish to be as famous as harry. sure people recognized your last name here and there, but most people hadn’t even known that james potter had a brother, let alone that that brother had children. your father cut all ties with the rest of the family after an unfortunate fallout with your grandfather.

it wasn’t until you came to hogwarts and were sorted into the same house that you and harry got the chance to connect. now that your parents had passed, you lived with your mothers best friend. she was the closest thing that you had to family until you found harry.

in any case, with no prior mention of you, potter was a common enough surname that no one outside of your friends suspected that you were related.

that was until rita skeeter at the bloody prophet decided to do some digging and out you in her mission to completely expose the boy who lived during last years tournament.

before you could respond, a deep voice sounded behind you. “bugger off!”

the boy shrugged, undeterred, and took off in the direction of a familiar head of curls down the hall. you said a silent prayer for hermione. you turned around with the intention of thanking your savior but the words died in your throat when you took note of who it was.

brown eyes met yours and a smile broke out over a scarred face.

“riddle.”

“potter.”

unlike yours, mattheo’s voice held no malice. you recognized the playful glint in his eyes.

mattheo riddle had been chasing after you since third year. you’d think that the boy would have let up by now considering your cousin and his father were sworn enemies.

still, you were probably one a few people to take note the way that mattheo flinched when his father was mentioned. and in a rare moment of softness, he’d even shared with you that he’d run away from home to live with theodore after his father lashed out at him once, causing the scar that stretched from the center of his forehead to his jaw.

it wasn’t exactly surprising to you that tom riddle wasn’t father of the year.

yet mattheo had proved to be a pretty good guard dog. you felt yourself snort at the pun, completely intended given the boys animagus. all things considered, he’d saved you from bloodsucking fame-fuckers more than once. so, pushing your feelings aside, you offered him a smile. you weren’t ashamed to say it was probably the first time you’d ever smiled at him.

“thanks.”

you stuck around long enough to see your theory proven correct as shock started to take over mattheo’s face. the boy stared at you, jaw opening and closing like a fish out of water for a couple of minutes.

you turned on your heel and waved over your shoulder at him, wishing you could watch his awe forever but having to make your way to potions.

-

what you’d apparently failed to realize is that this year, the gryffindors had potions with the slytherins. you’d found your spot next to hermione and whispered to her while you waited for class to begin.

a familiar mop of curls waltzed into the room. mattheo had a rather smug look on his face that was admittedly unnerving. he approached snape at his desk and whispered indistinctly to him. suddenly, snape stood from his desk.

“potter!”

harry stood from his seat and stared expectantly, no doubt wondering what he’d done this time.

“not you…”

snape’s words caused your heart to jump into your throat. fuck. a large hand swept in your direction, confirming your fears. he fixed you with an intense stare and then motioned to the empty seat next to a grinning mattheo.

you bit back a groan, knowing the indignation would do little but land you in detention. hermione flashed you a pitied look as you gathered your books.

once you’d plopped yourself down next to mattheo, he grabbed the leg of your stool under the table and slid your chair closer to his until his knee touched yours and the smell of his cologne wafted in the air. evil prick aside, he smelled rather nice.

“today we’re brewing the invigoration draught. I doubt that any of you will do it successfully…”

snape’s gravelly tone continued in the background while you tried desperately to focus on anything besides mattheo’s cologne. finally, he seemed content on his berating of the students and released you to gather your ingredients.

you flipped the book open to page 16, brow furrowed. you had every intention of passing your o.w.l.s this year. yet, if mattheo’s current behavior was any indication, it was going to be a stupid long year for you.

out of the corner of your eye, you caught mattheo staring at you. his chin rested on his palm, elbow on the table. you turned to him with the intent of deterring him, but he matched your stare with a sharp grin. trying to ignore the flipping in your stomach, you scratched down the list on a piece of parchment and made for the ingredient cupboard.

ailhosty leaves… dried billywig stings… peppermint… stewed mandrake… infusion of wormwood… honeywater…vervain infusion… scurvy grass…

as you looked at the ingredients in your hand, you were certain you’d forgotten something. the longer you stared, however, the more your memory seemed to fail you.

a shadow was cast in front of you. you felt the feel of a broad chest against your bad and the now familiar scent of mattheo filled your senses. a large hand reached up, grasping a jar from the top shelf. he held the jar out to you, chest still pressed against you and voice deep but oddly soft as he spoke.

“lovage leaves.”

earlier confidence now evaporated, you slipped out of his embrace and scurried back to your seat where you began to mix the first ingredients of the potion.

mattheo’s cockiness had now also disappeared and he was staring at you with a notably intense look on his face.

“you’re staring, riddle.”

“go out with me, y/n.”

you tried not to show how much the use of your first name affected you. it took you a moment to answer, and part of you had to silently applaud mattheo’s patience.

“you and me would be a big conversation.”

“so? let them talk. they’ll see what happens. when have I ever not protected you?”

you shot an annoyed look at him.

“what like I owe you?”

“no! that’s not what I— y/n look at me.”

mattheo’s hand wrapped around your wrist which was currently stirring a budding invigoration draught.

“that’s not at all what I meant. you don’t owe me anything. I just meant that I’ve never done anything to hurt you and I’ve never let anyone else hurt you either.” he took a breath and continued. “seriously. you hold me to this earth, you hold me down and I’ll protect you with my life.”

it was hard for you to care about what people thought by this point. after so many years of cat and mouse, you were the only person who knew mattheo like you did.

“one date, mattheo riddle. one.”

—

< mattheo taglist >

comment to be added!

06.14.2024

[iridiss]

Mystreet AU where all of the Phoenix Drop High staff are the divine warriors. MCD!Aphmau is a reincarnation of the last Irene, and she restarted the world when the final battle against Shad was going poorly, and Mystreet was created instead, with MCD!Aphmau being reincarnated into Mystreet!Aphmau. The other Divine Warriors (including the first Irene), were recycled into this school with no powers and new lives, completely powerless to the universal change that Aphmau has made. So now they’re forced to adapt to this new world and blend in, whether they like it or not, effectively trapped in this school until they can figure out what the hell happened, and somehow undo it. They all have retained most or all of their memories from their previous life. This makes staff meetings incredibly awkward

Shad is the principal, he runs this school very begrudgingly. He hates his job, but hey, he was able to lead an army in Hell! How much harder can leading highschoolers be?

Irene is the school counselor. The only one. She still has no emotions. This makes her not very successful at her job, but hey, she tries. The students are theorizing that she and the principal are divorced, or exes in some way or another, because of the incredibly grudge-filled looks they keep giving each other. They are forced to work in vague proximity with one another, and no one is enjoying it. They have to maintain workplace diplomacy and after learning what kind of world Shad is trapped in now, he realizes that he can’t actually kill her unless he wants to be arrested and thrown in jail forever. Which would suck ass, because he’s pretty certain the source of their new predicament is somewhere in this school alongside them, and if he wants any luck at getting out, he’s going to have to play along.

Irene and Shad are at least able to remain thinly diplomatic with one another. Shad and Esmund, however—never in a million years will they be civil with one another. They have gotten in very confusing shouting matches in front of the kids before. And yet Esmund never gets fired, (…i don’t think Shad has figured out that he can do that yet…) so the kids start to spread rumors that Esmund is hooking up with or used to be hooking up with the principal. Esmund and Shad find out, and all of the students get in ungodly amounts of trouble for this.

Enki tried to reconnect with his old friend Shad at some point. It didn’t go well. He left his office as quickly as he came in at the first sight of his glare.

It becomes surprisingly easy (and very existential crisis-inducing) to finally be able to tell Aphmau and Irene apart when they’re two entirely separate people standing in the same room. Shad realizes that this Aphmau is probably what caused this, but problem 1. She doesn’t remember a damn thing and is therefore extremely unhelpful, and problem 2. That’s A Child. That’s A Literal Actual Child. That’s some 13yo baby that is entirely innocent and bright-eyed and oblivious to anything and everything that went down in her past lives. And in my mind, Shad has a soft spot for children. Like, a HUGE soft spot, because he used to be a father and his daughter meant the world to him. He’d do anything to get her back and protect her from all the horrors that he could not save her from. Thats his entire villain motivation. Thats the entire reason why he hates Irene and becomes The Shadow Lord and raises an army and pillages the world and everything else. The Shad in my head would be physically incapable of hurting a child.

So I can see Shad calling Aphmau into his office very early in the first semester, ready to confront her and duel all over again…only to realize that, no, this is an separate, innocent child who remembers nothing and might even be an entirely different reincarnation of who she was before. Her memories might even be wiped, completely inaccessible and gone forever. He has an existential crisis, awkwardly apologizes and plays it off as some sort of joke, asks if she needs anything (putting back on his “I’m a normal human being” mask). She says she needs directions to her classes, so he scrounges up a random map and hands it to her and sends her off. He re-evaluates everything he’s known for the past 900 years.

Shad becoming strangely protective of 13yo Aphmau,,, this is just some kid,, he’s forced to re-evaluate everything and adjusts how he sees his students. From “oh good a new army I’m gonna have to mold from scratch /sarc” to “i…i have gone from zero children…to thousands…. thousands of children put under my care…i need to protect all of them at once” man goes mega mother hen mode, especially since his dangerous traitorous ex-wife is in the same building as them, he definitely sees her and the other divine warriors as threats to his kids.

Irene bringing Aphmau into her office as well, but she approaches things very differently from Shad. She cuts straight to the chase, and tells Aphmau she needs to remember. She’s done something terrible, and needs to reverse it and put the world back in order. She needs to remember her old life and become the newest Irene, take on all the power and the responsibility that being a Goddess entails, and set everything right. 13yo Aphmau freaks out, confused and lost. Irene lays the pressure on hard, and keeps pushing when Aphmau insists that she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Shad opens the door, sensing she was here with her, and looks like he’s doing everything in his power to hold himself back from punching her square in the face. They have a very terse, carefully worded micro-argument, and Shad insists Aphmau must return to her classes, her education is more important than anything Irene has to stay to her. He gets very protective of her and basically professional-business-talk tells her to fuck right off and never speak to her again. Aphmau is still confused. He ushers her out, and awkwardly asks if she’s alright. She says…i…think…so???? What just happened??? Shad tells her to be careful around that woman, and don’t believe a word she says. She’s full of lies, anyway. Aphmau’s like. you mean the school counselor???????? It’s a very strange day for Aphmau.

insert the kids joking about how Garroth/travis/aaron/Aphmau must be related to certain members of the staff here

[eggsandramem]

new isat au GO (why are aus so fun to make wgat the shell)

anyways, siffrin! nicknamed vulpecula!

spoilers for act 4 and up below i thingk...

this is!! a silly au where sif was born/created via wishcraft!! (inspired by this post woag...)

my current idea is that vulpe has two mothers that wanted a child, so they wished to the universe for one and BOOM, siffrin be upon ye

siffrin is abbouuuut 8 when the northern island was wished away, but in this case, the island was completely frozen in time

siffein however, and all of the other "universe children"(nicknamed this due to being wished for, and being granted by the universe) were left unfrozen, having immunity to the sort of time craft used in this case

so siffrin is pretty much on his own; his home village frozen, a few other universe children around, and siffrin praying to the universe to help, which,, when he finally does it correctly at the age of nine, the universe responds

siffrin asks the universe if it can help him save his village, the entire island, and the universe responds. the universe tells the young siffrin that its too much for just the universe to do, as its cause is a very powerful craft that not even the universe can revert on its own

the universe tells the young siffrin that if he wanted to help, he could go on a journey that os foreseen to happen in the future. not now, as he is too young, but years from then, and that the universe would aid him while it could

said journey being the sort of canon events in a way GRHGH

THIS IS ALL STILL UH. A HUGE WIP?? AND MOSTLY JUST CONCEPTS????? SO UHHHH HIDES MY FACE?????

anyways additional shitpost doodle GO (the star isnt the universe i just did NOT know what to put there)

[kays-artstuff]

My take on a revived clover AU

I like to think that monsters preserved the human children as a sort of remembrance using similar magic to their food since it doesn’t expire, but since humans have more physical matter it only delays rotting rather than completely stopping it, and since clover had died being much less harmed because they gave up their soul rather than getting murdered they get to be the first to come back with minor changes since they didn’t rot that much and their internal organs stayed in tact.

Also in this au flowey kinda goes MIA on frisk and doesn’t wanna be friends/isn't ready to talk to them juuuuust yet, clover’s kind of an exception though :D which also means frisk doesn't reaaallly know about clover til weeks later cause clover isn't ready to face martlet starlo or anyone else until they feel ready, dying and choosing to be alone as a 12 year old can be not great for the brain

Flowey is technically clovers guide through the underground but is still trying to get the other humans to wake up so he’s kinda busy but will know if clover is near a save like in game.

I might give this clover figerless gloves to hide the more human-lookin' skin

Clover is actually essentially sneaking around places like waterfall and snowdin town, staying places that have small shops and less people that would be able to recognize them

The tumblr user howlonomy gave me so much brainrot in their au so look at it!!! Their clover is such a creaturr!!!! /pos

[separatist-apologist]

Sink Beneath The Waves

Summary: There is more to the mysterious man, who saves Elain Archeron from a shipwreck, than meets the eye.

CW: Major Character Death

Read On AO3

“Wake up!”

Elain jolted awake, hair tangled in her face, to her youngest sister gripping her roughly by the shoulders. The smell of salt was heavy in the air, compounded by fear that seemed to hang like fog around them. Elain sat up in her bed, breath curling in front of her face.

“What’s happened?” she asked, wiping the sleep from her eyes. Nesta was sitting on the bed just opposite, eyes wide with horror.

“The ship is sinking,” Feyre told her, prompting Elain to swing her feet over the edge of the bed only to land in a few inches of frigid water. “We need to get out.” The ship was a steamliner, large and supposedly unsinkable. It was meant to take them to America across the Atlantic. Elain had been apprehensive the whole trip leading to the departure, and it had been her sisters who insisted ships were safe, now. They rarely, if ever, sunk.

You’re more likely to be hit by lightning, Feyre had said earnestly.

Elain supposed they’d never had good luck. The sort that would have them on a sinking steamliner rather than winning an absurd sum of money and living off the wealth until they died. They had an aunt in America who did have means, and had agreed to take them in and help them get sorted after their father had died, leaving them only with debts. 

Shivering, and still in her white night dress, Elain sloshed after her sisters from their second class cabin into the hall. Lights flickered ominously as more water greeted them. They weren’t the only ones making their way toward the stairs, and even in disaster, Elain found it strangely amusing to see people queue politely for the steps.

Behind her, Nesta reached for her hand and squeezed, her touch clammy and scared. They were going to be fine, Elain wanted to assure her, but the words stuck in her throat. She’d feel better once she knew they were safe. She kept expecting some crew member to tell them to return to their cabins, that everything was fine and the water would be cleared out by morning. 

It only occurred to her, as the water began to recede with every step upward they took, what the lower decks must look like. 

She didn’t turn back to look, heart pounding in her throat. 

Everything is okay. Everything is okay. Everything is okay.

Everything was not okay. They wove their way through the first class corridors, ignoring a woman clutching a sobbing, screaming child to her chest as she tried to reassure them everything was fine. Elain wished she had a mother to do the same, though she was a woman of twenty three and her mother had been dead for more than a decade. 

The lights blew in one of the halls, throwing sparks over Feyre’s head like rain droplets in a storm. Elain had to bite back the urge to scream, thinking of the mother and child somewhere behind them. She didn’t want to panic them any further. 

Elain was still clinging to hope that everything would be fine. Beneath the ship, it was easy to think it was simply panicked masses seeing water and overreacting. However, once they emerged on the top deck, the full scope of the horror came plainly into view. The ship was tilted, causing a slope as they made their way upward. It wasn’t so sharp that people were sliding back down, but Elain knew if they remained for another hour, the ship might end up standing wholly on its end.

People crammed toward lifeboats as crewmen called for women and children first. Nesta shoved Elain forward, causing Elain to, in turn, shove Feyre into the waiting hands of one of the crew members. Feyre screamed as the crowd surged, shoving Elain back.

It was a push and pull of desperation—Feyre vanished over the side of the ship, tears streaking down her face as she called out for her sisters. Elain’s panic became icy, listening to the sobbing and the creaking, intermingled to create a symphony of chaos. 

“There,” Nesta whispered as another boat was deployed. There were seats—enough for three. Nesta elbowed forward, taller and steelier than Elain. Elain watched her older sister step inside, and just as she was about to, she saw that same mother with the sobbing child standing just to her left.

There would be other boats, she told herself, ignoring Nesta’s impassioned, and furious cries, to allow the mother to take her spot. The woman pressed a swift kiss to Elain’s cheek, holding her child closer to her chest.

“You’re an angel,” she whispered in Elain’s ear. 

As it turned out, once that lifeboat deployed, the rest were on the other side of the ship. Elain made her way, ignoring the way the ship continued to lean dangerously. The large smoke stacks overhead cast large shadows and she wondered what would happen if they toppled. She’d be long gone by then.

The lights of the ship winked out as the vessel groaned beneath the weight of the water within. Elain had never truly known fear like she did right then, gripping the smooth, brass railing while trying to steady herself. Her sisters had made it safely and she would, too. They’d be reunited soon enough, and this would merely be another story they’d tell to friends.

Elain had made it to the opposite end of the ship, shivering violently in the cold night air. She could see lights in the distance—rescue was on its way, though whether it would be fast enough to keep them all from plunging into the water, Elain didn’t know. 

Unlike the controlled chaos on the other end of the ship, this was pure pandemonium. Twice, lifeboats were sent crashing to the water, empty of passengers. The rest were sent half full, if that, thanks to panicking crew men who often jumped at the last minute, leaving the rest of them to fend for themselves.

The reality of her circumstances dawned on her just as all the lights on the ship winked out. She was holding the railing for dear life at that point, watching several men argue over how to cut the remaining lifeboats loose so they might get in. Whether they could even deploy them at such a lean was uncertain. Pistols came out, a bullet flying which effectively silenced the argument.

There was nothing she could say or do to keep things under control. Her voice was gone, silenced in her fear. Even if she could, the constant groaning of steel would have drowned her out. 

A horrible crunching turned the world icy and silent. Beneath her feet, the ship shook violently, tilting so far forward that Elain nearly pitched down the deck to slam into a doorway leading inside. Holding the railing so tight her knuckles were white from the effort, Elain watched two of the steam stacks topple forward, their bolting crumbling under the strain of the water.

The ship was breaking in two, and she was going to take everyone down with her. In that moment, Elain was faced with two options—remain as she was and drown, or jump into the frigid Atlantic and potentially drown there. Both options terrified her—the water was inky black and bottomless, but the idea of being trapped on the ship as it made its way to the bottom of the sea scared her even more. 

She could make her way to one of the lifeboats, she reasoned. A lot of them were only half empty. And the lights in the distance promised of rescue. Elain forced herself on the railing, bare feet shaking, and leapt into the night.

She screamed on her way down. It seemed to last forever before she slammed violently into the water. All the air expelled from her body, muscles seizing in the cold. Elain lay suspended beneath the surface, panic filling with before she managed to will her legs to kick, her arms to flail.

The moment cold air bit at her face, Elain began swimming as quickly as she could away from the drowning ship. She didn’t know if she could be sucked beneath with it, and she didn’t want to find out. She could hear nothing but her own breathing and the splashing of her hands in the water until she finally found an empty, floating lifeboat overturned on its side.

It was miserably, slippery work to haul herself atop it. With her night dress clinging to her skin, Elain lay on her back to stare upward at the starry sky. She was in a waking nightmare, surrounded by the sounds of terrified people also plunged into the frozen water and the miserable snapping of the ship. Where was rescue she wondered?

Where were her sisters? Elain closed her eyes to block out the horror of her current predicament. She thought of the lights in the distance that were surely coming, not daring to curl into a ball lest she overtip her little piece of safety. She was cold, but she was alive.

She was going to be alright.

Elain didn’t remember falling asleep. All she knew was one moment she was trying to block out the sound of a child wailing, and the next a masculine voice was calling down to her. Peeling open her near frozen lids, Elain found herself looking up at a wooden ship. It seemed so out of place in the misty dawn, and yet a ladder had been pulled over the side and a man was currently scaling it to help her up.

She didn’t think she could move. Elain watched, noting, as he came into view, that his long, auburn hair was pulled in a rather neat ponytail at the nape of his neck, and one of his eyes had been replaced with a golden fixture. She stared at the trio of scars raking down his otherwise handsome face, unsure what else to look at.

“Take my hand,” he urged, offering one to her as he used the other to hang on to the ladder. Elain forced herself up on her elbows so she could take the warmth of his hand. Elain exhaled a breath, stunned by the quiet.

“Where is everyone?” she whispered, letting him half carry her against his body. He couldn’t meet her gaze, instead turning back to his swaying ship. “Did they die?”

His silence was answer enough. 

“Why did no one come?” she asked, her voice a little more urgent than before. He helped her over the edge, allowing Elain to tumble gracelessly to the deck where she found herself alone. The faint sound of voices told her there were others he’d pulled out lurking somewhere on his vessel.

“They did,” he told her, straightening himself. He wore tan breeches with brass buttons on either sides of his hips, and a white shirt tucked into the waistband, sleeves rolled to his elbows. Scuffed boots, though polished nicely, rose nearly to his knees, betraying an athletic man who worked hard, if his muscular thighs and strong biceps had anything to say about it. 

“They didn’t get me,” she said, bottom lip wobbling.

He offered her a sympathetic smile. “I nearly missed you, too.”

“Are there others?” she asked, catching the sounds of footsteps on the stairs below. They sounded small—like a childs. That eased some of the ache in her chest. 

“Yes,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “And we’ll look for more before we leave.”

He stepped around her for a crate, pulling out a large, green jacket to drape around her. Glancing down at her body, Elain realized every inch of her was on display. She’d forgotten she’d gone overboard in a thin nightdress. It was a miracle she’d survived. 

“Can I help?” she asked. “I just—”

Elain bit her lip as he cocked his head, curiosity getting the better of him. “You what?”

“My sisters,” she finally whispered, biting back the urge to cry in front of her savior. “I need to know if they survived.”

It was more than that, though—Elain needed to help as many people as she could. The scale of the suffering, of the tragedy, was not lost on her. Even as she stood on that swaying ship, she could hear the sound of snapping steel and cracking metal. She could hear the desperate cries of the people denied a life boat, who’d made the same agonizing choice she had.

“There are clothes down below deck,” her savior said, pity in his eyes. “Warm yourself first.”

Elain did as she was told, following the path down below deck. It smelled like salt and wood and something else—something strangely comforting. Like sunlight over her garden back home and the warmth of her bed on cool, autumn evening. 

Inside the cabin, Elain found more people milling about. Mothers with their children, deck hands and other cabin crew, men staring down at their hands, eyes glassy from the horror. Elain offered them a smile before making her way through, ignoring the doors to individual rooms she assumed they’d all be sharing, for another set of crates holding a variety of clothes, some so out of date she had to wonder where they’d come from. She managed to find a rather nice dress that fit well in a pretty yellow and green pattern that suited her well enough. Elain slipped into one of the rooms and put it on quickly, wishing she had more underthings. The dress itself was flowy, fashionable once upon a time, though comfortable which felt more important than looking like a respectable lady.

Once she had it laced over her skin, she found underthings weren’t wholly necessary. She managed to dig out some stockings and shoes before making her way back up to the deck where the captain as ushering some new souls aboard. Two men, both shell shocked and silent, took her place below deck as she returned to the cold.

“Your jacket…”

“Lucien,” he told her, cocking his head again. “My name is Lucien.”

“Elain Archeron,” she said, offering her his hand. His skin was warm against her own, filling her with the strangest feeling of contentment. Maybe it was the relative safety that made her feel that way. They exchanged small smiles before he nodded at the jacket still draped over her arm. 

“Keep it. I don’t feel the chill anymore.”

Elain offered another smile, slipping her arms into the sleeves to leech the remaining warmth left to the fabric. “How does this work?”

“We just sail,” he said, his voice heavy. “And keep a lookout for anyone in the water.”

“Where is your crew?”

“No crew,” he murmured, taking the steps upward toward the helm. “It’s just me and this ship that’s been passed down generations.”

“Do you know how many people were rescued last night?” she questioned. 

He shook his head sadly. “I don’t. I’m sorry.”

Elain steadied herself with a long breath. “That’s okay. I’m here to help, all the same.”

“You don’t have to, you know,” he said as she joined him at his side. “I wouldn’t fault you for resting.”

But Elain strangely wasn’t tired, or hungry. Now that she was safe, she merely wanted to get home. Cold air whipped her hair around her face, causing her to push the golden brown curls out of her eyes.

“I would fault me,” she finally said, admitting the truth. “It’s not just my sisters, it's…”

He stared, lips parted as if he’d never heard another person speak. She felt like her words were important—like he cared. 

“I jumped from the ship,” she told him. “It snapped in half, it…I just…I want to help. I need to help.”

“Okay,” he agreed with a nod of his head. 

It was agonizing work that day, eyes strained against the gloom, to try and pick out survivors. What were the odds, she wondered, that anyone had managed to survive the night. “There,” she whispered, seeing a bobbing figure in the water. It was a woman and a little girl, clutching each other tight with dull eyes and blue lips. Elain raced downstairs for blankets, relieved to find the cabin doors closed, and mostly cleared of bodies. People were tired—they deserved quiet. 

“You found us,” the woman whispered to Lucien while Elain fell to her knees to wrap a blanket around the little girl.

“You’re safe, now,” she promised, noting the little frozen droplets clinging to the childs lashes. The child didn’t respond—Elain didn’t expect them to. She merely clung to her mothers hand, dress dripping puddles over the wood beneath them, before vanishing below deck.

“You should rest,” Lucien told her a second time as Elain’s legs began to ache a little from standing so straight, her eyes watering from the stinging salt air and staring into the gloom. What little light had filtered from overhead was quickly vanishing, leaving only the blackest night again.

“I don’t think people could survive another night,” Elain told him, leaning over the rail to look down at the water below. 

“You never know,” he replied, coming to join her for a moment. Propped on his elbows, he bit his bottom lip ever so slightly. “You did.”

“One night. Not two.”

“All we can do is try. You’ve been brave,” he added, turning to wholly look at her. “No one offered to help except you.”

“They’ve been through a lot,” Elain heard herself say, heart quickening in her chest. “I don’t fault them for it.”

“Neither do I,” he hastily assured her. “Nor would I fault you for getting some sleep.”

“I’m not tired,” she said, looking at his face. He was so handsome—so lovely, and bright, and warm. Like the sun itself beating down on her, though he was only a man who’d realized she was alive and had pulled her out of the water. 

Elain would take whatever she could get. Any little kindness felt monumental and overwhelming. 

“Me either,” he said with a heavy sigh. “The ship, it just…”

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw.

“I don’t know what happened,” she admitted, wondering if he had a radio or something that might explain it. His eyes became glassy, expression slack as he stared into the distance. 

“I wish I could tell you,” he finally said, his voice strangely helpless. “I haven’t seen a wreck like that in…my life, I suppose.”

“My sisters got into lifeboats,” she said, more to reassure herself than anything. “We were separated.”

“Why didn’t you join them?”

Elain explained about the mother shushing the child as they’d passed, and how they’d all caught up at the lifeboat. She couldn’t explain why she’d nearly traded her life for theirs. Only that in the moment, it hadn’t felt like a choice—she’d merely done it without question, without thinking. 

Lucien’s lips parted, a strange look of wonder sparkling in his one good, russet eye. “That was…” he swallowed. “Very brave.”

“Was it?” she questioned. It merely felt decent. But he nodded his head, allowing them to lapse into comfortable silence. The world was quiet, even aboard the ship, and even the heavy mist blanketing the world didn’t feel concerning.

“I’m used to singular sailors,” Lucien told her once night had fully settled. They were still at the helm, him showing her how to keep the ship on course. Holding the wheel was harder than she’d expected, straining to pull away if she became complacent. “Not…not all this.” “Do you routinely pick up people stranded at sea?” she tried to tease. His fingers slid over hers, holding the wheel steady.

“More often than you’d imagine,” he replied, towering over her. It was tempting to lean herself back against his warmth, to bask in the solid strength of his body. He was a stranger, and yet she felt as if she knew him. “It’s become a calling.”

“Rescuing?”

He nodded. “I didn’t set out to do it, but…”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” she told him, inclining her head to look up at him. His eyes slid down her face, landing squarely on her mouth.

“So am I,” he admitted. “What would it take to convince you to lay down?”

There was a twinge of sadness to his voice. “I think all the rooms are taken.”

“Have mine, then.”

Promising the ship was capable of steering itself—some new technology that seemed wholly out of place on his large, wooden ship with its billowing sails, but she supposed it was more for aesthetic than anything. 

The captain's quarters were large, with a rather nice bed pushed up against windows overlooking the sea, and a table and chairs for working or eating–whatever he preferred. Food was set out if she wanted it, though Elain was still too worked up to eat anything.

“Get some rest,” he urged, lingering in the doorway. 

Elain nearly asked him to join her. She didn’t know what possessed her to do so, only that lingering feeling that she knew him. Instead, Elain nodded her head, allowing him to close the door.

She collapsed into the warm, soft bed, inhaling the smell of him on the pillow. She hadn’t meant to sleep, but the moment she curled herself beneath a blanket, Elain was gone. Her dreams were a haze of bright light and voices she couldn’t quite make out. Lost to the blinding sunshine, she thought she heard Feyre and Nesta talking, and when she woke, she darted back above deck expecting to see them.

Lucien seemed surprised to see her. “You’re back.” “It’s dawn,” she replied, rubbing sleep from the corners of her eyes. “I thought I heard my sisters.”

He only shook his head. “No Archeron’s.”

“Maybe they survived,” she said with a hopeful smile. Lucien offered her a shy one in response.

“Maybe,” he agreed. 

They spent the day together—alone—out on deck. Lucien showed her how to climb into the bird's nest, giving Elain a three hundred and sixty degree view of the world around them. The mist had lifted, though it was still a gray, moody day with a faint sprinkling of rain that made it hard to stay warm. 

She alternated between silence, looking for anyone they might have missed and asking Lucien a million questions. 

“Don’t you get lonely out here by yourself?” she heard herself questioning later that evening, seated across from him at the swaying table. He popped a grape into his mouth.

“Sometimes,” he admitted. 

“Where will you go when you drop me off?” she asked.

“Back to sea,” he replied easily, though she saw the sadness etched into his expression. He didn’t want her to leave. Neither did Elain, if she was being honest.

“I’m supposed to be starting a new life in New York,” she informed him, noting how he leaned forward with interest. He didn’t ask, but Elain told him anyway—how her mother had succumbed to cholera, and then her father had died, seemingly, of a broken heart. She told him about the debts and selling their family estate to make it even, leaving them penniless and in danger of destitution before being rescued by a wealthy aunt in America. 

“You didn’t want to be married?” he asked, elbows resting on the table. They’d abandoned eating for talking, illuminated by a few candles anchored to the desk. 

“I was engaged for a time,” she admitted, waiting for the familiar stab of shame and embarrassment. “He left when he discovered there was no dowry as promised.”

Lucien nodded his head. “That won’t be a problem for you now, I suppose.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be married,” Elain replied, unable to drag her eyes off him. He was off-limits—the wrong kind of man for someone like her. She was certain her aunt would never allow it, and besides, she barely knew him. 

Still, she could imagine it. The whole thing was terribly romantic, marrying the man who’d rescued her from a watery grave. Would he abandon the sea for land if she asked? Elain didn’t dare—he didn’t know her at all. 

“No? What do you want, then?”

“To travel,” she admitted. “Everywhere. I want to see the whole world.”

His smile threatened to blind her. “You’d get on another ship after everything that happened?”

Elain considered it. “Well. I suppose now I know what might happen. I could prepare myself better for rough seas.”

“You could,” he agreed. Was he wondering the same thing she was? He rose to his feet, rubbing his palms on his thighs. “I should—”

“Will you stay?” she asked, heart beating so loudly she was certain he could hear her. “Please?”

“You don’t have to beg,” he murmured, eyeing the bed again. “I ah…of course.”

Did he offer this to everyone? Unlikely. Elain hadn’t heard a peep from the people in the other rooms, and she wondered if they, too, were miserable in their loneliness. She was afraid to ask when they’d dock or where he’d go when it was all over. Was she a bad person for not wanting it to end? It was, easily, the worst experience of her life.

But when Lucien settled into the bed beside her, Elain thought that it was the best, too. She had freedom, away from the constraints of the life she knew she was hurtling back toward. He’d let her help him set food out for the other refugees, had shown her how to navigate by the stars, how to get the most out of the sails and keep the ship on course.

How much more would she learn if she could remain another week? Two? Elain curled beside him until her head was on his shoulder.

“You should sleep,” he whispered, his breath tickling her hair. Elain was certain she couldn’t be able to, certain she’d be too awake sleeping next to a man she barely knew. But like always, Elain fell into her too bright, confusing dreams.

They spent a week like that, Lucien loosening whatever kept him at an arms length when it came to her, Elain coming into her own on the ship. No one bothered them—she knocked on doors, sometimes receiving answers but more often, receiving nothing at all. She knew better than to intrude, though she often told Lucien how she wished they’d come up, too, and get some fresh air.

He merely offered her a sad smile in response. “Not everyone can find joy in tragedy,” he told her. It had been seven days with no sign of land, and Elain, who’d once been so desperate to reach her sisters, was finding that she never wanted to see it again. The strange, bright dreams had begun to fade back to normal as her body adjusted to life at sea. 

“Eat this,” Lucien instructed, tossing her an orange. Elain smiled, digging her nails into the skin to get at the flesh. 

“I was thinking,” she began, slowly chewing without looking at him. Elain was afraid he’d tell her no—already she could feel him stiffen beside her. “That when this is all over, I might…stay?”

There was nothing but the sound of the sea below them and the wind rustling the sails.

“Stay?”

“Yeah…ah…with you?”

“Stay with me.” He was merely repeating what she’d said, his voice toneless. “Elain—”

“Lucien, please—”

“You can’t stay—”

“I don’t want that life,” she interrupted, scrambling to her feet. Her orange fell to the deck, splattering citrusy juice between the pair of them. “It was all chosen for me. It doesn’t matter if I’m in London or I’m in New York, the result is the same. Everyone knows better, knows what I want and I need, but this, Lucien…this is what I need.”

He rose slowly to his feet, stretching his long body out as he stared unblinkingly back at her. 

“I need you,” she added, wondering if that made her pathetic. She barely knew him, and knew that if he left, it would be a loss she’d mourn for the rest of her life. She’d always be sitting at the window, wondering where he was. If he was okay.

If he missed her.

“Elain,” he whispered, his voice strangely fragmented. “You don’t understand—”

“I do,” she insisted. If he was going to tell her no, let it be because he didn’t care for her. Not because he was trying to do right by her. “You saved me.”

His mouth crashed against hers before Elain could take a breath. He was just as warm as he always was, lips soft as he kissed her insistently. His hands slid into her tangled hair before one arm wound its way around her waist, holding her close. Elain surged up on her tiptoes, her kissing clumsy as she got the hang of things.

It didn’t take a lot of skill, truthfully. He groaned even at her clumsy attempts, holding her so tight Elain couldn’t possibly escape. She wanted to get lost in the feel of his lips against her, stomach tightening when his teeth nipped at her bottom lip. 

More, more, more. 

It would never be enough and she knew it. Elain didn’t care if it wasn’t proper or if having this man would ruin her. Maybe this was all she’d get—one night with him before he firmly told her no, admitted that he had a family or a wife somewhere and she was merely a distraction he couldn’t afford.

Maybe she’d shove him overboard if that was true.

Lucien hauled her up in his arms as if she were weightless, carrying her below deck not to the rooms that ought to belong to her, but to his cabin before slamming the door closed with his foot. Lucien laid her on the bed, standing at the edge to look at her. 

“If I cannot stay,” she whispered, watching as he untucked his shirt, “then join me on land instead.”

He tossed the fabric to the floor, revealing the golden brown of his muscular skin. “Join you on land?” he whispered, kicking his boots off, too. Elain followed suit, using her elbows to crawl up the bed backward so her head hit the pillow. 

“Come back with me,” she all but begged. Lucien silenced her with his mouth again, parting her legs with an insistent knee. This was an easier way to communicate. All she had to do was touch him. Elain had never had a man like this before, and gliding her hand down the smooth expanse of his back was thrilling. She let her fingers touch from his shoulders to the band of his pants and back again while Lucien ground himself into her, expressing his enjoyment the only way he knew how.

Elain, too, found herself desperate for more. Her hands managed to wedge between them, finding the buttons on his pants. Lucien choked, nipping her bottom lip as he drew back. “Slow down,” he whispered frantically, peering between them. She didn’t stop, slipping the button loose with one hand. A trail of dark, auburn hair trailing from his navel downward appeared, and if she’d been bolder, she might have pushed him to his back to truly examine him.

She wasn’t, though. Shyness stole over her at the bulge and the realization that if she pushed even a little, she’d have a wholly naked man laying on top of her. 

Lucien kissed her again when he realized she wasn’t going to fully undress her. His tongue slid into her mouth, licking and tasting until Elain was arching into his erection, desperate for friction. So lost in pleasure, she hadn’t realized he’d begun unbuttoning her dress until she felt his mouth trail down her neck to her exposed breasts.

“Up,” he whispered, and Elain did as she was told, rising upward so Lucien could push the sleeves from her shoulders. He was the one to bare her, first, his pants unbuttoned but still covering him. Elain practically panted when he sank to his haunches for a moment to really look down at her.

There was something beyond lust gleaming back at her. Something she recognized, the same emotion that had caused her to ask him to let her stay. Elain’s heart soared—he was going to say yes. At the end of it all, Lucien was going to let her remain on the ship with her. They’d go to port, she’d assure her sisters were safe, and then she’d run off with the dashing sailor before anyone could stop her. There was nothing in her way. They could always come back someday, when he was tired of roaming and when Elain was satisfied she’d seen the world.

Lucien’s mouth trailing between her breasts dragged Elain back to the present. He was watching, both metal and real eyes fixed wholly on her. Before he could slip away, she pulled his hair from its piece of cloth, allowing it to cascade over his powerful shoulders. He smiled, beautiful as always, before pressing more kisses against the flat of her stomach.

Elain was holding her breath, afraid to seem too eager. That seemed unseemly for a woman, though she was. Propriety be damned, she knew what he was planning—she wasn’t a nun, after all. She heard women talk, knew, generally, what went down between men and women in the bedroom. She’d always been curious about all of it.

What would it feel like to have his mouth on her?

He was about to show her. Lucien hesitated for a moment, pushing her boneless legs apart with ease. She would have spread them for him if she hadn’t been afraid he’d think less of her. There was no nerves, no fear—she trusted him to do right by her. 

He lifted her leg, peppering kisses from her ankle to her thigh before swapping, never taking his eyes off her. Did she want her to beg? Elain felt as if she’d done enough of that for the day—for a lifetime, really. She thought he might do it again, looking up at the swaying wooden ceiling just for him to lick clean up the center of her. Elain gasped, nearly kicking him between the legs in her surprise.

Whatever she’d expected, it felt nothing like the reality. His mouth was wet and soft, tongue practiced. He reached for her breasts, teasing and toying as he took slow, languid licks. It was as if he were enjoying himself, trying to draw it all out. Elain could scarcely breathe, her insides too big for the skin containing her. She felt as if she might fly into a million pieces as pleasure built hotter and higher with each pass of his tongue.

Lucien teased the entrance of her body with his thumb, barely pushing himself in. Elain gasped, arching so hard into his face she wasn’t convinced he could breathe. His other hand fell from her breast to yank her tighter, all semblance of control abandoned. He licked like a wild animal, desperate and frantic until Elain was careening toward the precipice. She chanted his name, trying to get him to slow back down, but Lucien wouldn’t hear it. 

Elain wasn’t graceful or elegant when she came. With her hand grasping his hair, she practically rode his face, shamefully wanton, though she didn’t care. He let her, gasping only when she pushed away, suddenly overly sensitive. As she tried to catch her breath, to banish the brightness pricking at her vision, Lucien shucked off his pants and returned to her, kissing her greedily.

“I need you,” he whispered against her jaw. Weak sunlight poured through the window, illuminating his rigid, large cock pressed against her wet entrance. 

“I’m yours,” she replied. 

That was all the convincing it took for him to slide himself inch by wonderful inch into her body. It seemed to stretch on forever, the slow acclimation of adjustment to having something lodged inside her. Elain squeezed the first time just to try and shift a little of the discomfort, which caused Lucien to exhale a breath so forcefully that she had no choice but to do it again.

And again.

His eyes rolled upward. “If you keep it up, I won’t last but a minute.”

“There’s time,” she assured him.

His eyes found hers, earning her a messy kiss rather than any kind of helpful or reassuring response. Burying his face into her neck, he rocked his hips forward, causing pleasure to spike through her. Each drag of his cock, coupled with his lips against her skin, caused a different sort of pleasure. One that took a little longer, but burned hotter. Elain was gasping, twisting and writhing beneath him as any semblance of civility was erased, leaving only the creature in his bed.

He didn’t complain. “You’re so good,” he whispered, dragging his lips over her jaw. “So tight. Is this what you want? To stay here? With me?” His words trailed into a loud groan drowned by the sea around them. Elain could only pant the same word over and over.

Yes, yes, yes.

Elain came mere moments before Lucien, breaking apart so thoroughly that she was certain there was no coming back from it. She could be pieced back together but the fragments would also show, etched in glittering gold against her skin.

“Forgive me,” he whispered before he, too, came with what felt like the same passionate violence. Elain might have forgotten his plea in the aftermath, sated and boneless as he collapsed on top of her. There was nothing to forgive, nothing he could say that would change her mind.

Lucien held her against him, fingers stroking her hair as they laid beneath the sheets. For a long time, neither of them spoke. Elain had questions that slipped from her as she slept, hand pressed to his bare chest.

The blinding light had returned, drowning out whatever pleasant dreams there was to be had with heat so scorching she woke in a thin sheen of sweat. 

Lucien was there, sitting on the edge of the bed and fully dressed. With his back to her, shoulders slumped, he said, “It’s time, Elain.” Her stomach clenched. “We’ve arrived?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Elain.”

“Lucien,” she pleaded, but he stood, offering her the same hand he’d once offered to pull her from the water. Elain took it, surprised and frustrated to find she was back in her night dress. When had she put that on? 

“I don’t want to leave.”

“You have to make a choice, Elain,” he said, his voice dripping with anguish. “It’s time.”

Clutching his hand, Elain let him lead her barefoot from the cabin they’d slept in. There was no noise on the ship—only the blackest night that seemed to infest every space of the ship. It was almost as bad as the biting cold that swirled around them.

“Lucien,” she pleaded, but he held fast, taking her up the steps and back.

Back to the night before he’d found her. Elain balked, but Lucien didn’t relent, taking her to the edge where she watched herself, clumsy and freezing, claw her way up the capsized life raft. Time moved strangely, almost silently despite the echoing, screaming fears that bounced through her skull. 

And Elain watched as her eyes fluttered shut, lips parted and blue. Her chest rose and fell.

The ship slipped beneath the waves.

And Elain’s body went still, one hand sliding into the water unnoticed, fingers skimming the icy surface. She turned to face him. She understood, then, what she'd been too scared to acknowledge the day he'd pulled her from the water. Her sisters had survived, but she had not. And he had come to ferry her into the afterlife.

“I’m here to take you home,” he said, gesturing around them. The night faded, and in its stead, a blinding, bright light emerged. For a moment the ship itself vanished—everything did, leaving her suspended in a great nothing. Her only anchor was his hand still gripping hers.

“Elain.”

It was her mothers voice. Her mothers face, shining and beautiful, unmarred by the cholera that had taken her from Elain when she’d been a child. Beside her stood Elain’s father, beaming as he was so often in her memories. “Elain, come home with us.”

She was rooted in place, breathing so hard she could have choked on it. “Mommy?”

She took a half step forward, pulled back by Lucien who pressed a kiss to her forehead. Cupping her face, he whispered, “I would have stayed with you. Forever,” he added, as if she didn’t know that. 

Elain turned again, back into the warmth where her parents waited. 

“Are you happy?” she heard herself ask them. 

They beckoned for her, and some part wanted to go, too. Wanted to see them again, to bury her face in her fathers shirt and inhale the scent of spearmint and tobacco. To tell them how much she missed them and how she wished they could have stayed longer. 

Elain took a step back. And another. And another.

Until she was back in the gray mist with Lucien, the light fading behind her. “If you don’t go—”

“I’ll stay. With you,” she added, looking, now, at him wholly. “I’ll ferry the souls of the dead with you.”

Lucien cupped her face gently. “Are you sure?”

But she’d been sure the night before. And Elain was sure then, too. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, Elain nodded.

“Forever.”

[zenphiaaa]

Cornelia Street (Giyu Tomioka)

Shinobu blinked with her smile frozen on her face. "What do you mean you have a wife? When on earth did this happen? That poor girl! Did you coerced her?" The young woman snided to the male sitting across from her

"That sounds like too much effort to get married that way." Giyu responded in a bored tone. "I'm not sure why this is such a surprise. You guys all have significant others." The dark haired male pointed out.

"I think what Shinobu means to say is that you tend to keep to yourself. So it's a bit of surprise for you to talk about yourself." Mitsuri gently explained, trying to calm everyone down.

"When did you get married? What's her name? Marriage is such a beautiful thing, you're extremely lucky Tomioka!" Rengoku spoke out in a thunderous tone. Giyu just sighed and nodded his head in thanks.

Part of the resaon why he told no one of his marriage was because he knew that his coworkers...friends(?) would respond like that. It was a headache once the group found some sort of excitment.

"You didn't answer the questioned Tomioka. That's not a very poltie thing to do." Shinobu warned with a pointed look, the smile she wore still frozen on her face.

Giyu let out a long sigh before pulling his phone out of his pocket, he typed on the device for a few seconds before showing the screen to the group. "Her name is Y/N, we've been married for two years now. No we don't have children and we don't want any so please don't ask. She is also only six months younger than me and she works as a nurse." Giyu quickly explained like a crash course video.

The picture on the screen was one of the wedding day. The picture shows Giyu holding Y/N up bridal style, both with grins and a light blush dusted on their faces.

"Congratulations my dear friend. I'm glad you found happiness." Rengoku smiled brightly at the shorter male.

Mitsuri let out a loud gasp as she somehow manged to get the phone out of Giyu's grasp and began to scroll over all of the weddings day photos that Giyu had saved in a folder on his phone. "She's beautiful! You guys look so cute together!" Mitsuri squealed.

"Yes." Was all Giyu had said before plucking his phone out of the women's grip. "Can we get back to the meeting now? This is a business lunch after all." The dark haired male mumbled, pocketing the phone back into his jeans.

"Of course, but you know that Mitsuri won't stop asking for us to meet her. You wouldn't want to break Mitsuri's poor heart and have a certain snake owner threaten you? Right?" Shinobu teased the other, although her eyes didn't follow the cheerfulness that her tone indicated.

"If you guys want to meet her, you'll have to wait until her schedule is free. She's the most busy out of the two of us." Giyu replied.

"Your wife is ordering, I think." Muichiro suddenly spoke as he pointed behind the group. Giyu immediately whipped his head around and his eyes focused on his wife's H/C hair. The man softly smiled at the sight of his significant other.

"Wow, you are so whipped." Shinobu observed.

Y/N then turned around to look for a table after ordering. Her eyes immediately broke out across her face as she started to approach her lover. "Giyu! Your at a lunch meeting today?" She questioned, placing a kiss on his checks within Giyu's arms.

Giyu responded and wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss without saying a word.

Mitsuri in return let out a loud squeal which caused the couple to back away from each other, faces flushed with embarrassment. Despite wearing a blush, Giyu still looked midly annoyed that his time with his wife was interrupted. Even if he was supposed to focus on work, his wife was here now. How was he supposed to focus on work when the love of his life was holding him? Quite unfair really.

"Sorry, I'm interrupting aren't I?" Y/N quietly said to the group, not able to meet anyone's eyes.

"Nonsense! We were in fact just talking about you! All good things nothing to worry about!" Rengoku spoke up, saving Y/N from the embarrassment.

"I see. Well I just wanted to say hello to Giyu." Y/N hesitantly spoke with a tight smile, "I'll be out of your hair now. I just came to pick up lunch for me and Insouke."

"What did he do now?" Giyu sighed but kept his arm around his wife's waist. Looking up at her with a soft gaze.

"Ah," Y/N nervously looked the other way as she spoke, "Well he decided to try to fly? Climbed the roof, got attacked by a wasp nest, then kinda fell off the roof."

The group froze and blinked at the woman like she was crazy.

"He's an idiot." Giyu quickly replied, "I'll talk to him when I get home."

"Ah, we're watching some neighborhood kids during the day, while it's parent week at the school. Insouke is just a wild child? He loveschallenging himself, although I wish he didn't do it in extremes." Y/N thought outloud to herself.

"Order for Y/N!" A worker called out.

"I'll leave you guys to it then! Sorry for interrupting! Nice to meet you guys!" Y/N almost bowed a goodbye, before giving her husband one last kiss and left as fast as she came.

The group blinked before turning to look over at Tomioka. Giyu just shrugged as he sipped on his iced tea,"She gets nervous around new people." Was all he said.

"Well, we must have dinner together! She's so nice and so sweet!" Mitsuri blurted out with heart eyes, clasping her hand together in excitement.

"I'll let her know." Giyu said, as he pulled out a folder. "Can we get back on topic now? We only have fifteen minutes left of this meeting."