#it's a happy story or as happy as it should be

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - Kris's Birthday

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

Close to the end of their journey, Kris has a small celebration with the beasts, and reflects some on both their past with their brother, and the light world ahead.

(Reminder that I draw these scenes out of chronological order!)

YAY managed to get another part done! This one won the poll, so had to go with it first! At least Kris finally gets a nice, happy moment with all the beasts they've recruited!

Alt text under the read more:

Page 1

Panel 1 - Wide opening shot. Kris sits facing Ralsei, with the rest of the Fun Gang surrounding them. The Gang now consists of Susie, Noelle, Lancer, Berdly, Catti and Jockington, and Monster Kid. The Fun Gang have set up camp in a hollow crater, the landscape around them rocky and barren. Everyone is lit solely by the glow of a campfire in the center of the crater. Ralsei addresses Kris: “Get plenty of rest, Kris.”

Panel 2 - Medium shot of Kris and Ralsei, still across from each other with the fire between them. Ralsei continues, “Tomorrow we face the last bound god before the Dark Fountain…it’ll be our toughest fight yet!” Kris responds, “Yes. I understand.” They stare into the fire.

Panel 3 - Closeup on a happy Ralsei as he holds up one claw. “And since we’re so close to the end…”

Panel 4 - “...I thought I’d conjure up a special surprise for you!” Ralsei moves his claws, and magically congeals a plate, food and frosting all together in a swirling center.

Panel 5 - Ralsei holds up the finished object in front of the fire: a small frosted cake, topped with strawberries. “SURPRISE! Happy birthday, Kris!” he declares with a broad smile.

Page 2

Panel 1 - Ralsei holds the cake up in the foreground. Kris looks at it in surprise. Behind them, Susie and Noelle look on with interest. “Wow! Is today really your birthday, Kris?” Noelle asks.

Panel 2 - Closeup on Kris. They scratch at their head in confusion, and respond, “I… Is it? I’ve lost track of the days since arriving here…”

Panel 3 - Medium shot as Ralsei happily hands the cake to Kris, who takes it. He says, “Well, I’m not sure if it’s exactly today. But by my estimates you should have had one by now! So now is as good a time as any!”

Panel 4 - A wider upshot as Kris takes the cake, and the beasts watch. Berdly leans in closer, curious, and asks, “What do you humans do on these ‘birth-days,’ as you call them?”

Kris replies, “Well, typically…you eat cake, or some other sweet treat, and you spend time with your friends and family.”

Panel 5 - Kris stares into the fire again, and continues, “And usually, they also give you gifts.” Behind them, as if in abstract shadow, is an image of a younger Kris surrounded by the other Dreemurrs, all smiling. It seems to be a memory of a past birthday.

Page 3

Panel 1 - Closeup of Kris still looking into the fire, their eyes hidden by their hair. A shadow seems to fall over them. The memories of happier times still hurt.

Panel 2 - Lancer pipes up: “Ya got the cake and friends part right here!” Kris turns to see Lancer and Susie smiling at them, and gives a small smile back.

Panel 3 - Noelle leans in over Kris as well, her head taking up most of the panel. She says, “Sorry, we don’t have any gifts for you…but two out of three isn’t bad, right?”

Kris’s smile broadens a little, and they reply, “No, it is not.”

Panel 4 - Kris pulls out a smaller knife…

Panel 5 - And in a shot focused on the cake, begins to slice the cake into equal pieces with the knife.

Panel 6 - Kris offers a piece to Catti, who happily licks it up. “Tasty.”

Panel 7 - Kris tosses a piece across the fire to Berdly, who catches it in his mouth. “Thanks, Kris!”

Panel 8 - Kris turns around and tosses another piece into Susie’s open jaws. “Hell yeah, cake!” she says, excited.

Page 4

Panel 1 - A wide shot as the whole Fun Gang sit around the fire, enjoying their cake slices, small as they are. Kris works on eating their own slice. Noelle says, “That was good! …Do you think there’ll be lots more cake in the light world?”

Panel 2 - Medium shot of Kris, who turns to look up at Noelle. “Yes, there are. But I would have thought you’d be interested in the humans more,” they say around a mouthful of cake.

Panel 3 - Noelle looks off to the right, and responds, “Sure, I’ll have some, if they’re soft… I don’t like the hard bits, like armor and bones.”

Panel 4 - Wider shot as Noelle leans back against Susie, snuggling into her side. “I mostly want to get to the Light World and quiet this feeling in my mind…once I do that, I’ll be happy,” She says.

Susie grins, and says, “More for me, then! I can’t wait to get to the Light World and all that food…”

Page 5

Panel 1 - Susie rests her head on the ground, and continues, “I’m gonna eat up all those humans and finally feel full!” She smiles and licks her lips at the thought. Lancer sits just nearby.

Panel 2 - Wider shot of all the beasts around the fire. Across from Susie, sitting in a loaf, Catti says “Greedy.”

“Oh come on, like you aren’t excited for the food!” Susie responds with an annoyed look.

Panel 3 - Medium shot as Catti looks up towards the dark clouds above them, grinning broadly. Behind her, Jockington also looks Skyward, his body wiggly. Catti says, “Not just that. Open skies. Sun. Fresh smells. New magic.” Jockington adds, “It’s been, way too long since we, learned a new technique!”

Catti reiterates: “Lots of things. Looking forward to them.”

Panel 4 - Wider shot as Kris turns to Monster Kid, who’s been quiet this whole time. They’re mostly buried underground, but their tail is currently out of their mouth. Kris asks them, “You’re looking forward to leaving the Dark World, too?” They reply, “Y-yeah, Kris! I wanna eat some humans too, but…also wanna be someplace niver, y’know?”

Panel 5 - Closeup on Monster Kid’s face as they continue: “Here it’s really hard to find food. And it’s so dark and cold, and e-everyone’s trying to fight each other… I hate it, yo.”

Page 6 

Panel 1 - Wide downshot of the whole Fun Gang huddled together in the empty crater. The barred landscape stretches out around them. Berdly looks to the skies, and says, “Yes, it’s true. The terrain here is so bleak and devoid of sidequests.”

Panel 2 - Closeup on Berdly as he smiles, looking excited and proud. “But if the Light World has as many humans as you say, I’ll be able to max out my volume in no time!”

Panel 3 - Susie looks away and sticks out her tongue, clearly annoyed at the prospect. “Oh goody, we’re aaaall excited for that…”

Berdly, not picking up on her sarcasm, just continues to beam proudly. “And rightfully so!”

Panel 4 - Noelle nudges her enormous nose against Kris’s back, and says, “We’re all really excited to see the Light World with you, Kris.”

Kris turns back towards her slightly, and smiles. “Me too.”

Panel 5 - Kris reaches around the fire to hand the now empty plate back to Ralsei, who takes it.

Panel 6 - Ralsei makes the plate vanish into shards of nothing with a wave of his claws. “Then let’s get some rest!” he says, satisfied.

Panel 7 - The small campfire is now extinguished. Only a thin wisp of leftover smoke rises from the blackened wood and coals.

Page 7

Panel 1 - A wide shot of the crater, still at night. With the campfire out, all of the eldritch beasts are now asleep. Monster Kid is buried underground. Catti is sleeping as a loaf, with Jockington resting on her back. Berdly sleeps with his head tucked under one wing. Susie and Noelle sleep snuggled up together, with Susie’s long tail curled around them. Kris lays nestled between them, long hair and shaggy fur serving as a makeshift bed. Ralsei stands off to the side.

Panel 2 - Medium shot of Kris. They lay awake between the two beasts, staring up at the sky. They look pensive.

Panel 3 - Slightly closer, Kris looks down and to their right. Ralsei asks from offscreen: “Kris! Are you feeling all right?”

Panel 4 - Downshot of Ralsei as he looks up towards Kris. He spreads his arms out in a hopeful gesture. “I know perhaps this isn’t the sort of birthday you would have had back home, but I was hoping I did okay on such short notice…”

Panel 5 - Closeup on Kris as they close their eyes. “I just…” They take a deep sigh.

Panel 6 - Kris looks up from the makeshift bed, looking sad. “I can’t remember the first birthday I had with mom and dad and Azzy anymore.”

Page 8 

Panel 1 - Shot of the dark skies above. Thick clouds silently roll across a starless expanse. “The whole day feels like it’s completely gone.”

Panel 2 - Wider shot, with Ralsei in the foreground. He still watches Kris carefully. “Oh, I see. I suppose Seam has asked for quite a few payments from you during your time here…perhaps you sold the memory?”

Panel 3 - Closeup on Kris as they squeeze their eyes shut, trying to block out budding tears.

Panel 4 - “Yes. Likely,” they say. Kris sadly holds up their left hand above their head. Their hand is missing the pinkie finger…another payment to Seam.

Panel 5 - Closeup on Ralsei as he looks downward. “I’m sorry, Kris.”

Panel 6 - Medium shot as Kris hugs themself, still nestled in the hair and fur. “Asriel would usually get me a book he thought I’d like, and I’d complain about it, but then read it cover to cover in one night. Once I learned how to read, anyway,” they say with a small smile.

Panel 7 - Low angle shot as Kris continues to reminisce, watching the dark clouds above. “Mom and dad also always got me a square of chocolate. I don’t know how they afforded it.”

Page 9

Panel 1 - In a flashback panel, Asriel and Kris sit across from each other outdoors, each leaning against trees. Simple woods surrounded them, and a lazy river rolls by just past them. Beyond the river are a few small homes and farms from the town. Kris holds an apple, while Asriel has a book and feather pen. Both are talking, looking happy. 

Kris speaks over the flashback: “Azzy and I would go and sit by the river in the summer, and he’d point out plants and animals and tell me to give them science names. Even when I said crass or foolish ones, he wrote them down and said he would petition to get the names changed.”

Panel 2 - Closeup on Kris as they look away, the memory still feeling a bit sad to them.

Panel 3 - Closeup on Ralsei, interested and responding to the stories. “Your brother sounds like a generous soul.”

Panel 4 - Kris looks down, still sad and reminiscing. “He didn’t have to be so nice to me. Everyone said he’d leave town and go do great things.”

Panel 5 - Another flashback panel, this time in Azzy and Kris’s shared room. It looks similar to their room in canon, but much older and more bare-bones, with simple wood walls. Kris sits on the edge of their bed, listening. Asriel sits on the edge of the bed, looking pensive, his cheek resting against his hand. 

Kris continues over the flashback: “But he…he told me that he didn’t like that pressure. That I was more fun to hang around than whatever great thing the town expected him to do.”

Page 10

Panel 1 - Closeup on Ralsei. He looks on, his tattered scarf flowing behind him. A curious smile crosses his face. “The way you have spoken about him, all this time…I am so curious to meet him.”

Panel 2 - Kris nestles down into the bed of fur and hair, and shuts their eyes, drifting off to sleep at last. They mumble, “Maybe…maybe soon.”

Panel 3 - Wide shot of all the beasts, asleep in the crater. Kris finally sleeps as well, tucked between Susie and Noelle. It’s dark, and quiet. In the foreground, Ralsei remains awake and watching, his back to the camera. It’s unknown what he’s thinking.  

[pomefioredove]

Imagine the overbloat gang as fathers or like proud/panicking that their s/o is having a child and they don't know what to do

Imagine the gang trying to give their kids a goid life and getting baby fever like who wouldn't because the kid is literally a mixed of him and you and they gush about how much they love their s/o and children like ???????

Overbload gang as fathers and i will start violently sob

I do have a weakness for familial headcanons :) future au time??

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ as fathers

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral (no mentions of the child's origins), reader is not specified to be yuu, obviously takes place in the future

I think Riddle is one of the most reluctant to have children

for years he was strictly against them. his excuses were always that children are messy, unruly, his career, his relationship with you... but he was mostly just afraid of turning into his mother

as he gets older and forms his own identity, though, he realizes that it takes a lot of intentional effort to fuck up a child like his mom did, and he changes his mind

I can see him with... maybe two kids

he would never want an only child. after all, the bonds he made with his peers are what kept him going

he is a pretty good parent overall. maybe a little to focused on bedtimes and table manners, but the kids don't seem to mind

Trey and Che'nya babysit often (and it's always disastrous)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

talking Leona into the idea of fatherhood is like diffusing a bomb with a blindfold on. the guy won't even JOKE about it

if you do end up with a kid, it's unplanned, whether that be pregnancy or baby left on the doorstep

but he makes a surprisingly(?) good father. defo a girl dad, he would spoil a daughter rotten. lets her beat the daylights out of Neji because that's his little princess :)

parenting is really not as scary as he thought it was going to be

he has "I'm just resting my eyes" *falls asleep for 8 hours on the reclining chair in the living room* dad energy

the hardest part?

pretending to like vegetables in front of the kid to set a good example

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul would actually be an awesome dad idc. IDC!

he has a good relationship with his mom and stepdad (who definitely babysit all the time; they insist on it), so he has good role models

he's not even worried about how it'll affect his career! Azul has a "do it all" personality: businessman, entrepreneur, father, aspiring millionaire...

and he is so overprotective

he'd cover that kid in bubble wrap if you'd let him

but he's really more concerned about their feelings. sending them to school is much harder than closing a business deal

he's a little sensitive, but he knows he'll have to trust them eventually

P.S. the tweels are NOT allowed to babysit. bad influences

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil. ohhh Jamil :(

kids were never on the table for him, even after he met you and fell in love, he just... couldn't imagine it

regardless of whether or not he and his family are in a better place. (for the sake of this story, let's pretend they are. I want him to be happy) he just has so much generational trauma that he knows the child will end up with some, anyway

when, if, he's ready, it will still be a tough process. but worth it

he's such a supportive dad. bragging about his child at any chance, definitely the kind of dad to show everyone the baby pictures without being asked

it gets embarrassing for them as they grow, but he doesn't care

he thinks they're the greatest thing ever, and people should know that!

he is so proud

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil had always wanted to play a father on screen, but once he hits that age, he starts thinking about real life, too

he's gotten where he wants to be, after all: he's still young, he's in love, and his career, as successful as it is, is starting to wind down. so, why not?

he is the most supportive partner you could ask for. despite his schedule, he's involved in everything (yes, even the messy stuff)

he's got a customized baby bjorn and everything

I can see him with... one. just one is enough for him. he also has girl dad energy. he's already looking forward to playing princesses and letting her do his makeup (terribly, of course)

he knows his child will grow to have their own wants and thoughts and personality, and he's supportive. besides, if he has another Epel on his hands, he'll know how to handle them

just... gentler, this time

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

for you, anon, I will enterain the idea that Idia may someday reproduce. but there's still a 50% chance that kid is a robot

joking (kind of)

I don't think he'd even really want kids. considering his own unhappy childhood and the whole curse of his bloodline thing. but, like the others, he can be convinced!

I think he'd make a pretty good father, tbh. neurotic, sure, but he's not too clingy, nor too distant

whatever kids he has will be smart, and he trusts them. he likes teaching them nerdy stuff, too (finally, someone he can infodump to!!!)

he probably ends up with more than he'd think. 2 or 3

as long as you never bring up how cringe he was in college, he's rather mature and prepared for anything

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

out of the whole lineup, Malleus is the the only one to have thought your future children while at NRC. daydreamed, really

I know, not surprising. look at the guy. he's practically kicking his legs back and forth while coming up with baby names in game

it was just a fantasy at first, then you became closer, graduated, got older, and...

Lilia began teasing him about getting grandkids, and Malleus took him quite seriously

he knows he's still young (though, at his age, Lilia was already general), but he doesn't want to wait forever. you both have many long talks on the matter

and end up with... as many children as you can handle, basically

Malleus is somewhat of an awkward father (having been raised by Lilia will do that to you)

but he cares. and he tries! very hard. plus, there's always Lilia, Silver, and Sebek around to lend a hand

[barcaatthemoon]

friend of the bride || lia walti x reader ||

You hook up with Lia at your best friend's wedding.

MINORS DNI, 18+, Smut warning.

You knew about Lia. You had never played against Lia, but you knew all about her. It was your job to know about football, both international and domestic. She hadn't played in the NWSL, but you were a pretty big Arsenal fan even before she had joined up. But even before then, you had heard people in the business talking about the Swiss player.

It made sense that she'd be in the bridal party. Lia was Ana's best friend, and maid of honor. In a way, you thought it was wild that the two of you weren't better acquainted. Obviously you understood Ana being hesitant about introducing the two of you. You were a bit of a womanizer to say the least, even if you had settled down quite a bit since starting your gig as an official NWSL commentator.

"Excuse me, I don't know if we know each other. I'm (Y/n)." You could feel Ana's eyes on you as you approached Lia. There weren't many people that made you nervous, but your best friend's new wife was definitely one of them. The two of you had been teammates years ago whenever Ana played on the Thorns, and maybe, just maybe, you had seen a spark all those years ago.

Nothing had ever come of it, and you were happier because of it. Ana was cool, and she definitely would have hated you whenever you transferred across the country at the end of the year. You weren't a native to New Jersey, but Rutgers had offered you a full ride, so you counted yourself as a bit of a Jersey girl. Sky Blue wasn't perfect by any means, but it was definitely the place that you had wanted to retire playing for.

"I'm Lia, and no, we haven't been properly introduced," she said. She outstretched her hand, and you took the offering. Behind you, you could practically feel Ana attempting to burn holes into the back of your head to deter you. "My friend is watching us."

"If I'm being honest, I don't blame her. She's heard stories of how I can be at weddings." Bashful wasn't something that normally worked well with you, but Lia found the blush cute. It became obvious as she patted the chair in front of her that she knew a bit about you. Ana had to have warned her before either of you arrived in Seattle for the wedding.

"I've heard stories of how you are away from weddings. I get it though, life feels a bit more special with all of this love in the air," Lia said. You thought that she was sweet, and a part of you was about to back out when she grabbed onto your wrist. "I fly out tomorrow afternoon, and I'd hate to leave without as many good memories as I can get."

"She'll kill me if we leave together," you told Lia. She glanced behind you and waved at Ana. You did everything in your power not to turn, but Lia seemed amused by whatever was going on behind you. "Is she being mean?"

"Not at all, but you should say your goodbyes and get your coat. I'm in room 615," Lia told you. She slipped her key card in your pocket, and you wondered how long she had been watching you. Lia left first, leaving you to sit there stunned for a moment. It was hasty, but you said your goodbyes and promised Ana that you'd be safe with her friend. She was a bit dismissive, but you didn't miss the little twinkle in her eye. If you had any more to drink, you would have considered that she was happy about you and Lia running off together.

It seemed almost too good to be true that Lia's room was on the same floor as yours. You made a quick stop at your own room to shed your suit jacket and make sure that you still looked good. Your room was only a few doors down from Lia's, and you wondered if she had seen you at all over the week. The entirety of the wedding party had been flown in several days earlier than all of the other guests, and you doubted the maid of honor had been an exception to that.

"You left your jacket. That's a shame, it looked good. At least I can still do this," Lia said as she grabbed you by your tie and pulled you into the room. You stumbled a little, but caught yourself as Lia's arms wrapped around your shoulders. She was still in her dress, but without her heels on, you were a couple inches taller than her. "You know, I had always hoped you would find your way to the WSL. I would have liked to play against you."

"I bet we could have had a lot of fun together." Lia seemed to catch onto the hidden meaning of your words quickly. You were a bit surprised by her forwardness as she kissed you. It was welcome, as was the feeling of her hands pulling your button out from where it had been tucked into your pants.

The women you hooked up with had all definitely wanted you, but they were rarely as confident in themselves as Lia. She was sweet and gentle, but it wasn't submissive in the slightest. She took what she wanted without overstepping, and it took you several moments for your brain to kick in and join her.

"Take my dress off," Lia told you. You didn't hesitate for even half a second to turn the Swiss woman around. There was a little clasp by the small of her back, and once it was undone, Lia let the dress slip off from her body and pool onto the floor.

You could see that her chest was bare, but that did nothing to prepare you for the sight of her. She stood in front of you completely topless. You weren't being subtle in your staring, but Lia didn't seem to mind it. She let you keep staring as she pushed you back onto the bed. Lia climbed onto your lap, and there she sat straddling you as she looked down at you.

"There are plenty of more comfortable places for you to sit," you started. Lia showed her amusement with a little half-smirk. Normally, your jokes garnered a bit more of a reaction, and the fact that she hadn't given you one made you want to try again. You wanted to impress this woman with every part of you, and you had no idea why. Nobody was supposed to mean this much to you, not for a single night anyway.

"I'm already practically naked on top of you, lines aren't necessary," Lia told you. You nodded and swallowed, somewhat nervous as she stared at you. It was like she was studying you, less out of curosity, but more in the way a predator would study its prey. "You're wearing too much, and I'd hate to ruin your very nice suit."

You nearly let out a whine as Lia moved off of you. You scrambled off of the bed and hastily undressed yourself, not caring that for a moment, you were more bare than she was. Lia hummed in appreciation as you stood in front of her, completely naked. She guided you down onto your knees in front of her and leaned over her own lap to kiss you.

"Show me what you can do. I hope everything I've heard about you is true," Lia said. Even after she broke the kiss, you didn't stop kissing her. Your mouth moved all over her neck and jaw, occasionally stopping to mark a couple of hickeys for her to take as a temporary souvenir. You were a lot less careful with your marking whenever you got to her chest, sucking as many love bites onto her skin as you could.

Lia tried not to rush you, but you could tell that her patience was growing thin. She ground herself against the palm of your hand as you cupped her over her underwear. You let out a pleasured groan at the feeling of her heat through the fabric. You could practically feel her arousal growing as she moved against your hand.

"More, I want more," Lia told you. You took your time teasing her as you took her underwear off. Your face was buried into the side of her thigh when your attention was pulled by a frustrated growl. Lia looked down at you with a look so sweet that you almost got whiplash from the way her hand balled into a fist around your hair.

You let her guide your face, only sticking your tongue out to give her something to seek out. Lia loosened her grip when she felt your lips wrap around her clit. Her thighs clamped around your head, holding you against her as she rocked her hips back and forth gently. You pried her thighs apart to make room for your fingers to tease at her entrance, stroking over the hole with the promise of penetration.

This time, Lia didn't have to ask or tell you to keep going. Once you got into your groove, everything came very naturally to you. Lia was moving wildly on the bed, each buck of her hips punctuated by a little creak of the bed. Between Lia's moaning, the bed creaking, and the absolutely obscene sound of your fingers fucking in and out of her, there wasn't a moment of silence.

"That's it, right there. Don't you dare stop. Oh fuck!" Lia exclaimed. You felt a sharp tug to your hair as her other hand wrapped around the back of your neck. You could feel her nails dig into your skin, but the pain of it just made your eyes roll back in your head a little. Above you, Lia's body held you close even as she tried to squirm away from you, torn between wanting to stop and wanting to see just how hard you could make her cum. Ultimately, she ended up pushing you away just a couple minutes later as her body began to approach overstimulation.

"I think you did a number on me," you muttered as you rubbed at the little nail indents on the back of your neck. Lia sat up on her elbows, just enough to see her reflection in the TV. She looked gorgeous to you, disheleved in the most perfect of ways. There was no denying what had just happened, not when you looked at Lia.

"I can do a lot worse," Lia laughed. You clammed up a bit at her words. You had no idea what was wrong with you because Lia shouldn't have been getting to you this badly. She was practically a stranger, and yet, you didn't want to just gather your clothes and run off to your own room just yet. "If you ever find yourself in London, message me. Now though, I think you should get going. Guests are going to be back any moment now."

"I've never been asked out and kicked out at the same time. You are something else," you said in disbelief. Lia could tell that you weren't angry, and just to keep it that way, she walked you out. A part of you wanted to linger, but aside from a pretty chaste kiss, Lia didn't give you the opportunity. You just had to hope that you'd catch her before she ran off the next day, but even if you didn't, you couldn't be mad about how your night went.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

please my dear author , please!!!!! I'm begging you, Give me satisfaction with your story, please😭❤️...

May i've a reaquest headcannon for, wife s/o x sun wukong,They both are always together and fight together, even die together 😭... Please my dear author, you are my only hope .

(btw, s/o is good at healing magic, she even fights using magic)

How funny and how ironic, Wukong thought, to be held in his last moments in the arms of the sword brother that once he had tò defeat in battle.

His breath reduced by a raspy whisper, his chest now covered in blood by the wound... eh, come to think of it, he didn't feel any pain now, just numbness.

His hears, then, grasped One of the many breaths there, one that, like him, was reaching their last moments. He could recognize that breath between thousands, and then he sensed a feeling of dread. He wanted to reach her. The bull sensed his desire and obliged.

In a pool of blood, a feminine body lay. Her chest covered in arrows, her once white hanfu now in a Splendid Crimson shade. The eyes of the monkey gleam from the sad view.

A bride, even in her last moments. His bride, his wife, his everything.

You were his, and he was yours, and so the sage wanted to be until the end.

The bull was able to lay him down next to you, a small moment of peace on the battlefield.

You two really did a lot together?

///

You were mere servants for one of the seven fairies, a body between many. You never asked for something more, you never asked to be different, and you never asked to be noticed by anyone. Too much trouble, you always thought.

But you were different. Despite your humble position, you were born with abilities that, even amongst many immortals, were quite rare. Healing powers, a sacred ability that just a few could learn but were born with? You were special, but you just hoped for a humble life. 

But even in the celestial realm, nothing can just stay the same.

You first saw him when he was ordered to the Jade Emperor. Hiding behind some officials and other servants, the first thing that caught you was his manners. He wasn't a bride; he was just treating the most important being in the world like some random people. You should be shocked, but... It's nice? You wondered what kind of person was the new keeper of the horses...

///

"Master Wukong Is Amazing!"

"Since he's the one who's taking care of the celestial steed, all of the beasts are in great shape!"

Wukong was always someone who loved the praise and the compliments, but something was quite off. It was true, he was the best keeper that the Celestial stables everything had, but he had noticed something a little strange.

Sometimes, maybe by accidents or by distraction of the owner, one of the horses came back injured or with some small wounds. He had always done his best to take care of them, of course, and the next day the same wound was soon gone. More than anyone, he was supposed to be happy or proud by this, but he knew something was playing a trick on him. Surely, another one would have believed that it was the same horse that had such an ability like that, or everything that stables themselves, but why then call for someone to take care of the horses if there was something like that?

One day, he finally knew the answer.

When the day was almost over and the Night Patrol deity started to prepare for his work, Wukong wanted to check on the horses and remembered that one of them seemed quite unwell after a bad day with its owner. 

When he reached the stables, he seemed quite pleased to find the door unlocked, especially since he knew that all of his helpers had left for the night. He noticed there the light of a small lantern, and there he decided to move. Taking the form of a fly, he started to buzz in the direction of the light, and what he saw left him pleased.

"Poor one, did they mistreat you, uh?"

Your voice seemed so kind and gentle; the horse was immediately putty in your hands. Sitting on an overturned bucket, you gently caressed its snout and Maine, coercing it to give you its injured leg.

"I know what it means; don't worry, I'll treat you right away."

And, under the incredulous eyes of the Great Sage, a dim light started to shine in your hand, and, by just caressing it, the wound was good and gone!

"There, all done!" You said happily, keepnon caressing the horse, "Now you look good as new!"

The Great Sage couldn't control himself; you had picked up his curiosity like nothing before! Like a bolt, he immediately took back his true form and started you and the horse.

"Easy horse, brother!" He esclaimed, calming the beast, "Do not scare the precious one!"

You feel a sense of panic. You were caught, red-handed, in the celestial stables tending the horses that weren't even your own duty, by the keeper himself. You kneel before him, your face in the dirt, hoping to appeal to his kindness.

"Forgive me, master! I didn't intend to do any harm! I just wanted to cure these poor creatures! Please don't report me! I beg you!"

He looked at you with quite the interest, bent down to touch your head, laughing a little.

"Come now, precious one! I'm not in need of this kind of guidance! I punish who's wrong me, not who does good!"

You raised your head a little, your forhead dry from the mud of the pavement.

"You...you won't?"

"Not as long as you're going to share with me that trick of yours, precious one!"

"My Lord, I'm not precious at all! I'm just a servant."

"Tell me your name; even if you'll be precious to me!"

"I'm Y/N, master; I work under the Seven Fairies, daighters of the Jade Emperor. And...my powers are just my powers; I was born with them."

"Oh, a servant?!" He seemed indignant by your statement, "How can it be?! Such powers are for gods and immortals! Not for servants and cleaners! They had made a mistake with your position!"

"Oh, no, master! I'm where I wanted to be! I do not care for my position; I just enjoy my life as it is."

He pondered, Little, what a strange little thing you were. Such amazing powers, and yet so humble?! So interesting, very much indeed! He circled you a few times, causing you to emit a few giggles, even if you tried to keep them in your mouth. 

"Say, do you like these horses?"

"Yes, master! Quite Indeed!"

"Then! Come to me every day at this same time! I want to know you better!"

///

And so you kept your promise. Every day, after your choirs, you were welcomed in his own palace, treated like an equal. Sometimes you've dined, sometimes you've just drunk tea, but every time talking with him seems so natural. You showed interest in his home, to the point that he wanted you to pay a visit there with him next time.

He loved having you around; you've never looked him down, always so modest and kind. You were truly a precious one to him! He never loses a chance to greate you, even in front of the other servants and celestials.

And so rumors started to spread. 

The Bimawen found a friend in the Seven Fairies servant. The girl likes to spend time with horses and monkeys, they said. Some even complained that you smelled of animals.

Once, one of the seven sisters even forced you to take a bath and tò not touch anything until you were completely cleaned. It was so humiliating.

But you decide not to tell anything to the Bimawen, afraid of some reaction. And yet, something still happened.

One incautious immortal had decided that he needed to provoke the monkey and reveal his true position in the heavens! You were sure he was aware of it. Instead, they decided not to inform him! He was furious! He destroyed the stables and fled away from Heaven.

He had one regret: leave you there alongside those foolish arrogants! But he could not force you, not someone like you.

So imagine his surprise when the youngest monkey proclaimed to have captured an immortal, only to come to him withbyour in their grasp!

"Y/n?!" He screamed, reaching you with a jump and taking you in a bone-crashing hug. "My precious! Why are you here?! Did you finally decide to come and green my children?!"

"Oh Wukong," you caressed his head. "The Celestial Palace is enraged! They want to capture you! They're sending an army here!"

He laughed, finally setting you down, caressing your delicate hand.

"Old Wukong is not afraid of them; I'll let them regret having provoked the Great Sage equal to Heaven!"

And while you wondered when the battle could begin, he showed you his kingdom. A land with no palaces, no rules, only swore brothers and sisters that believed in each other's strength and power. They were equal in each eye, and all of them were ready to fight for each other. It felt right...

Sun Wukong had shown you to everyone with pride, calling you his precious one, the one that can heal with her hands. And even if he loved to braga about you to everyone, he had always shown respect and never forced you around. He wanted to praise you like he should, but he wanted you happy.

It was the first time in his life.

///

"My precious... I wonder...do any of those morsels up there ever tried to court you before?" He lay on the ground, enjoying your scratch on his head.

"Not at all, my Lord. They never looked me at all, and since I know you, they avoided me."

"It feels me with pride then! That I'm the only one that had the chance and the right to court you properly!"

"You...courting me, my lord?" Your cheeks took a crimson shade, embarrassed but yet intrigued.

"But...why me? Of all the matches, why me?"

"Because you had made something that a few had done, you had intrigued me." His hand taking yours, covering them in kisses, "so say yes, bye mine forever. Let's live in peace!"

And so, with a kiss on his lips, you accepted.

///

He did keep his promise; he defeated the immortals that had been sent to capture him. He forced him to find a new strategy, giving him what he wanted!

And most definitely, he decided to have you have his own. His wife, his precious wife, was the only one that he really cared to have by his side.

You wanted to be more—not for everyone to acknowledge you, but for him. Rakshasi had you as her disciple. She taught you, and she was able to unlock your true potential. And he knew, and he loved you for that.

When you both returned to the Celestial Palace, he wanted people to greet you both, but your hopes weren't so high.

In their eyes, you were still a servant, and he was still just a monkey. That was something that they would never stop seeing.

But you learned that respect should be earned, not given, so you stopped being the respectful one. If someone offended you, you responded, well, know that now not only your own fury was feared, but the one of your husbands too.

///

"My love, this is wrong!" You tried to convince him, whispering between the peach trees. "We shouldn't! We should guard the immortal peaches! Not eating them!"

"AH!" He picked another one, giving it a huge bite. "I'm the Guardian! Why shouldn't I? And those knuckles head Will never noticed of a few have been eaten, my dear." 

He extended the same peach, his mischievous eyes tempting you.

"You and I... We deserved more, my love. Why deny it?"

Yes, why? The immortals were never Just with both of you, that was the right payment that he deserved. Your mouth became full of the peach pulp, and soon the lips of the monkey claimed your now immortal ones.

You desecrated even the same soul of that orchad.

And soon, you both were meant to desecrate more.

///

When he learned from your former masters, the Seven Fairies, that you weren't invited to the banquet of the mother of the west, he was furious.

You were at his side when the Seven Maiden started to mock him and yourself.

"A stone monkey and his mate to the royal banquet? How absurd!"

"He can come and make a dance for us; she can serve us for sure!"

Their laugh was what enraged him the most. How dare they mock you in front of him?! How dare they make funny of the Great Sage wife?!

When the maidens were immobilized by his spell, by the look on his face, it was clear that he planned nothing but troubles.

When the two of you came in the Great All, he put everyone to sleep and then started to drink and eat everything that his eyes could possibly lay on.

"Wukong, this...this is not necessary! We should stop!"

"Stop?!" He looked at you, throwing away a cup full of wine. "They made me do it! They've never been fair to us! I won't stop! I refuse! Come, my beloved, let's drink and wine at their own expense! Let's feast! And when we're full, let's bring the rest to the children!"

And so you did; you drank and drank wine with him, uncertain of this action. The emperor... he would be enraged... but he was right, they treat you both poorly... still...

And so you drank, trying to put down your worries in the alcohol, afraid of the future. You tried to put at rest the fear. And so, Cup After Cup, you fell asleep. You didn't remember all; only your spouse brought you something shining in your mouth, with a huge grin on his face.

When you woke up, you were both back to your mountain, and your fear was true.

///

"I BEG YOU!" your head on the ground, like the first day you both met, "ask forgiveness! Do as they say! Don't bring your people to war! Do not harm them! Please!"

His swore brothers Look at you with pity while he keeps on looking at the thundering skies. He couldn't turn back down.

"My precious one, I refuse to beg for Mercy! I'll make them see what happens when they play against me!"

Then his eyes became gentle only when he looked at you. His hand cupped your face, looking at your crying eyes. How he hates to see your gorgeus face crying.

"Go with Who can't fight my beloved; stay with them! The world of war is not meant for you."

"If you refuse to beg for Mercy," you held his hands against your trembling chest, "then I'll fight with you."

///

And so you did; you did fight alongside him and his generals against the celestial army... but it wasn't enough.

Not against Erlang Shen.

When he was taken away, you were held hostage in the palace, forced to see the tortures and every plan to kill him. But in the world, nothing has ever worked.

When they put him in the Lao Tsu Trigram furnace, you thought they had lost him. No matter how much they torment you, no matter what pain, the thought of the loss of your husband was too. much to bear, but he wasn't dead; no, he became stronger.

Nothing could have beat him, and, for a moment, you really thought that he could become the new emperor...

But he played against more capable opponents.

///

You could still Hear him moving, struggling against the rock, gnawing at the mud, trying to get out and break free from the golden sigyl.

"You're hurting yourself more..."

"WAIT until I break free!"

"You won't..."

"Are you doubting me?! "

You get, starting to walk away, your cold expression couldn't even manage to hold his fiery eyes longer than a second.

"Where are you going?! Stop!"

"I'm going to find our people. They fled in the fight. I'll do what I can."

"We'll do it when I'll break free! WAIT!"

When you turned around, you were the one holding an enraged expression. Your fists were so tight that your hands were white, and your lovely (y/c) eyes were of a deep red color.

"I wanted you to stop! To reconsider it! But you didn't listen! We could have been happy and serene, but you... you just wanted more."

He wanted to scream back, but he heard it—your hiccups, your sobs.

"No, please! Don't cry! I can hold everything, but seeing you cry breaks me deeper." He struggled again to reach you, to console you, but another strike from the sigyl stopped him. You didn't want to hear him again; you just wanted to leave, and so you started to walk away again, ignoring his screams.

"PLEASE! I'll Fix Everything! I'LL DO IT! PRECIOUS ONE, PLEASE!"

///

As the seasons change, you change for the worst. You became something else.

Your power, once maid to help and protect, became cold like ice. Your colors disappear, pure white, like a ghost you became. You even started to forget your name.

With no one to come back, your people were hunted by the Celestials, abandoned, and hated by everyone. With no place to go, you became a demon.

For 500 years you prey on mortals, other demons, and such, until fate acts again and a monk and three pilgrims cross your path.

And your heart longed for two things: your husband and the flash of the Tang monk.

But your story was short-lived, you guessed. 

///

Wukong held you in his arms, your fragile body against him. You were like a child, deep in slumber, while your old color started to come back.

He did what he could; he suffered enough, all for one thing: a second chance for you.

He sensed your struggle in your sleep, his footsteps echoing in the depths of Mount Huaguo. 

"Shhhh...sleep..."

Yor hands grasped his tunic, feeling the rasp material under your finger.

"Wukong, I had... a dream."

"A Dream? It was good?"

"No, it was a nightmare. I did so many bad things... I hurt you and someone you care for."

He stayed silent, only holding you closer to him. "It was Just a Dream, my love...nothing more."

He laid you down on the altar, covering you with some furr. He stayed there, admiring your tired expression.

"Sleep now; when I'll be back, you'll tell me all."

"Where are you going?"

"...finish a job...but I'll come back soon, so do not fret. Your husband would never abandon you."

You smiled, feeling his lips caressing your forhead. You felt safer now; he would come back soon.

And so he closed the door made of rock of your secluded prison. A sygil, one similar to the one that he once had, and a spell made to you sleep.

He didn't noticed, but he started to weep while he was closing It.

///

He did it; he finished the job. He became Buddha; he obtained a position so secure that he could grant you and himself freedom.

But he was never meant to be free, wasn't he?

He wanted you out of this conflict; he tried to protect you, but you were so stubborn, so eager to protect the husband that had pulled you back from those 500 years of misery...and instead there you were, at the brink of death.

How ironic and unkind...

He felt something—a warm touch to his chest. Your palm emitted that kind light; you tried to use your power on him one more time. He held your hand and stopped you.

You were so tired and you looked at him. He seemed so tired...and yet he smiled.

It's fine. That's enough. No more.

In your last moment, you couldn't help but cry, sobbing, with one consolation of dying at his side.

He wanted to hold you close to him, tell you that everything would be okay, and not be scared because he was there with you. He could only caress your face, trying to stay closer to you, avoiding more pain from the arrows.

And while the divine light was ready to engulf you both, he prayed one last time.

He prays that, if his plan works out, to meet you again, to fix the mistakes of the past, and to tell you how much he love you one more time.

@sun-jglim @crimsonflameproxy @everlastingmoonlightsworld @biankanoir

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[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 07. BENEATH THE STAINS OF TIME

a/n: wow i stalled on writing this chapter until the last minute. i think i really just didn't want to put them through this, but also i love the angst so it's an internal war i fought with myself. this is the pinnacle of the entire series. the one thing i plotted when i first came up with the story. so grab your tissues, a blanket, and a comfort fic for afterwards. because i am sorry for what's about to happen.

summary: he never liked the variant from your universe; the be all end all hero. but in the depths of anger and pain, logan howlett is forced to make a choice his variant self once made. save your soul and the people you might harm...or save the you he loves.

word count: 9.5k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: DARK THEMES AHEAD BE WARNED, angst, pain, ptsd, talk of drowning, insanity, tw: torture, tw: blood, tw: death, grief, violence, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, deadpool & wolverine energy, laura kinney has enetered the chat y'all, father daughter bonding, wade wilson's commentary, sacrifice, time.

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He couldn't breathe.

Logan had been underwater before, felt the press of the ocean against his chest and struggled for oxygen. Battling for breath, no matter how small. He understood what it felt like to drown—sink to the bottom and never get up. His adamantium skeleton had been the cause of him drowning far too many times in his life; until he'd grown accustomed to the sensation of fighting for air.

This felt magnified. As if he'd been at the bottom of the Atlantic—straight down the Mariana Trench—for centuries.

Was this how it felt to be buried alive? To find yourself in a grave six feet deep with no way of clawing to the surface.

He never thought he'd understand the sensation that kept him up at night; the prospect of death was too little a threat for him to actually worry about. Unimportant to a man who had spent two centuries of his life barely finding any meaning to it. After all, what was the fucking point when he wound up right back here. In the shallow end of his grave, waiting to lay down and exhale his final breath.

Time fell back into place the moment you left. Fortuna. Someone he never thought would find him here; now brought him to his knees with one simple act.

There was misery in love. He knew this the moment he fell in his own universe. He understood the cost of what might come from you using your powers without restrictions; what Charles told you. Yet he fell anyway. He allowed his heart to open up and give you leeway into the broken pieces of his mind—a part of himself he chose to ignore.

He should have fucking known better than to repeat history here.

He should have ignored the strings that bound his heart to yours and left you alone.

He should have, he should have, he should have...

But he didn't.

Now he bore the brunt of consequences he knew would one day show up.

Your apartment door slammed open, nearly getting torn off the hinges as a familiar echo of heavy boots thumped across the hardwood floor. He felt his spine tense where he still knelt—hands clutching the pieces of your shattered mug. Fortuna wouldn't be returning. He knew her tricks, knew her endgame, and coming back to the scene of disaster was never her forte.

The scent of vanilla and Ambrose filled his senses, stinging his nose, as a familiar dark browned girl rushed to his aid. A backpack hit the ground, sunglasses discarded on the counter, as his variant's daughter clutched his hands in hers. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. Not when he broke right there in a place that held such happiness.

She seemed to understand. Peeling the porcelain out of his palms and placing it back on the table; finding what other shards she could to put them all together. The silence felt safe. Familiar.

Logan found himself suddenly thankful for the variant that once existed in her world. She could see the cues before they even washed across his face; the bitter grief that her father once went through. He knew from when he met her in the Void, he couldn't be that person for her. But when she looked at him like that—a daughter willing to fight alongside her father—he hoped that maybe...he could.

"Althea called me," she said softly, hands wrapped around his wrists. "Whoever she is attacked Wade's place first."

His head rose, anger trickling in his chest as Laura's brown eyes mirrored his own. "She's..."

"I know," she muttered, pulling him to his feet. "Wade filled me in."

"Is he-"

"Takes a lot more than that to kill a Deadpool." She grimly kicked shattered glass to the side, shoving it to a corner as he staggered to his full height. He wore a neutral expression—somber even. But Laura could see the pain in his eyes; an exact replica of the older man she once clung to as a child—begging him to live for her sake. "He sounded pissed. Althea hung up before he could fill me in on the gory details."

"Fortuna," he sighed, eyes fixed on the demolished window. He'd have to help you fix it after all was said and done—after he apologized for dragging you into a mess that was never meant to touch you. "She found me."

Laura's nose scrunched, brows furrowed. "You're ex? I thought she could control time, not...multiverses."

"Charles's theory was that she wasn't exactly controlling time. More like what made up the universe as a whole."

She nodded. "Time included."

"Time included," he repeated. "I didn't think she'd...get this bad."

"You left her behind," she stated, rummaging in your fridge for something to drink. "I guess a part of me can understand her anger."

He knew she wasn't talking about him, but rather the man she once looked up to. Nonetheless the words still stung the same.

In a different world Logan could picture her here on nights not spent at the mansion studying and training. He could see you bonding with Laura—teaching her the history of the X-Men. Showing her the love of a mother she never had.

The image punched him in the chest until his breath became nonexistent and suddenly...he was drowning again. A choked noise echoed in the back of his throat. Laura's head snapped in his direction with concern etched across her face. Any other day he'd loathe that look, but tonight he couldn't dig his way out fast enough to care.

The soda can she tossed his way nearly smacked him in the head; effectively snapping him out of whatever fucking stupor his own mind was intent on trapping him in. He caught it, breath rushing back to his lungs, and gulped down the shitty sugary crap his own kid loved.

"That's fuckin' disgusting," he bit out, watching her smile into her own can.

"I like it."

He winced as the taste hit the back of his throat. "You're a kid. You'll grow out of it."

"You've said that before Dad. And I'm not a kid-" She tensed as the word left her mouth. The title that was never meant to fall upon his shoulders; never supposed to tie him to another person.

Something hesitant flashed in her eyes, mouth now a thin line as she waited for his inevitable reaction to her slip up. The words he uttered beside the fire no doubt on the tip of his tongue: Whoever you think I am...you got the wrong guy. But standing there, watching his kid hold hope in her eyes that he might say something different this time, made him finally understand what the fucking point was.

He didn't want to be the wrong guy.

He just wanted to be what she needed. What you needed.

"No," he sighed, lips curling into a smile that said enough. You can call me Dad. You can give me that responsibility and know I'll fight like hell to make sure I live up to his legacy. "I guess you're not."

They allowed the silence to sit in their chest for a brief moment. A moment of understanding passed in their grim smiles that held so much more. He'd tell it all to her one day. How he once longed for a life exactly like this, for a kid of his own. How he never believed himself worthy of the title Dad. How he'd lay down his entire being if she asked it of him.

Today though, they shed the titles of father and daughter and donned one they knew all too well. Wolverine. Ironic that the one thing he loathed would one day be given to a girl who wielded it with pride.

"What are you gonna do?" she asked, pushing off the counter and reaching for her bag.

"Find her."

"And when you do?"

His heart paused as the realization of what was to come began to reenter his mind. Fortuna had you captive, dangling you on a string in the hopes he would latch on to rescue the person who held his heart. Logan felt the urge to leap. Save you from the clutches of someone willing to kill you just to bring him unimaginable pain.

To get even for what he couldn't do that night.

But he also knew...Fortuna didn't deserve what happened. The humans destroyed what the X-Men built. They were the cause of everything that occurred since he left. He couldn't let their trauma bring down the woman he once loved. Even if she was so adamant on watching him give over his life for a version of her not yet broken by unimaginable pain.

"I don't fuckin' know," he admitted.

She took another sip, crushed the can in her palm and tossed it to the bin in the corner of your kitchen. "Wade's gonna want to speak to you. Find out what happened here."

He nodded. "You got everythin'?"

"I'm set."

"You know you don't have to do this kid. It's not your fight."

Her eyes narrowed, the firm set of her mouth so much like his own. She was a fucking mirror he never thought he'd have; showing him pieces of himself he once thought too ugly to be seen. Yet they were the reason she shined so bright. He could see the stubbornness ingrained into her very own DNA. A testament to his own unwillingness to let things go; to take on the battle for someone else as long as they didn't get hurt.

So much like him. So identical.

He felt a streak of fear run down his spine at that thought alone. She'd have to suffer for it. Just as he did. But goddammit if he wasn't going to do everything in his power to save her from the pain of bearing the title Wolverine.

"You love her," she stated plainly, as if nothing else mattered in this world but those three words. "Which means she's my family. We protect our own."

She didn't give him a chance to respond, scooping up her sunglasses and propping them on her nose with a huff. Maybe she didn't notice how he stood there, eyes wide as something pricked his heart. Maybe she ignored it for his sake—so uncomfortable with being vulnerable like him. But either way he couldn't deny the fact that stared right at him in big shiny letters.

She was his daughter. Through and through.

"She took my arms!" Wade's voice echoed down the hallway, giving Logan pause as Laura took the lead. "Do you know how petty that is? When I find that Scarlet Witch carbon copy I'm gonna shove my katana down her throat as I dance to dub-step-"

"Hi Wade," Laura said, cutting him off from what was about to be an impressive rant.

He spun, baby arms swinging limply at his side. "Oh good. The clone of the man I actually need. Tell me, did you find your father cause mommy has to speak to him."

Logan took that chance to follow her through the open door. His eyes took in the destruction of a once nice living room. Burn marks stretched from floor to ceiling in multiple places where Fortuna's whip had made contact. He spotted two limbs in a pile by the couch, blood pooling on the carpet as Wade steamed with enough fury to sharpen his senses.

She’d come here first looking for him. Which means she somehow knew exactly where to find him.

"Peanut!" he shouted, eyes narrowed and baby fists clenched. "Did you have a nice morning? Get some good head? Because I was attacked by the long lost daughter of Princess Diana."

Laura's head cocked to the side, brows furrowed. "Diana Prince."

"Whatever!"

"Wade." His greeting could have been better. Though he was never one for handing out sympathy to the nearest victim.

Wade ceremoniously collapsed to the floor on his back, thumping his head against the carpet as Logan stepped further into the room. The window was ripped clean out of the wall, glass scattered everywhere which showed how Fortuna found out about her variant self. Logan could practically see the fight happen in the present time.

It made his stomach sour—his heart a rapid beat against his chest.

"How long will it take for those to finish?" He gestured to the arms that currently pointed two middle fingers in his direction.

"Couple hours. Why do you ask? Want a handy?"

"Ew," Laura sighed. "I'm gonna find some food. Want anything?" When Logan shook his head, she quickly dipped back out into the hallway, leaving him to deal with the wallowing lump on the floor.

He sighed, stepped over Wade and grabbed him. "Alright c'mon."

"I'm half the man I used to be. Literally. She took the only good thing I had until Ness got back." The limp wave of small hands in his face had Logan cringing back.

"So she came here first then."

Wade barked out a laugh. "Oh you mean your ex? Sabrina the teenage BITCH!"

Logan huffed, dragged him to the couch that had long chunks ripped out of the fabric. "She's a lot older than you think mouth."

"Sorry my bad. We didn't exchange your preferred blowjob tips and trade secrets about you when she was cutting off my arms!" The roll of his eyes was involuntary, barely there, but Wade latched onto it like a dog with a bone. "Did you just-"

He turned his head, exasperation bleeding into the air. "Did he just roll his eyes at me?"

The room went still as the gears in Logan's head began to turn. The fear was now palpable enough for Wade to figure out exactly what was happening. He sat up straight, gaze latched onto the apartment across the street. The wall gaped like a wound, leaving a trail of ghastliness in its wake. Wade was surprised to see minimal bloodshed, merely the path of destruction left by a being with too much power, but the inkling of you in pain made his stomach churn.

The amount of information he extracted out of Fortuna was slim to none, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what she went after once she was done wreaking havoc in his home.

"Logan," he started, anger trickling into his heart. "Where is sweet angel?"

He sagged into the couch—grief cutting into his chest as images of your smiling face plagued his mind. No answer would have been good enough to explain what happened. His face stricken with despair—the way he clutched his hands into fists on his knees—told Wade everything he needed to know.

Fortuna wasn't here to only kill Logan. Why dismantle one life when she could bring an end to the memory of Logan Howlett in this universe too? She'd take all of them down with her if it meant enacting her revenge.

Starting with you.

"No," he breathed.

"I don't know where they would have-" He bit down on the inside of his cheek until copper burst on his tongue. "Where they'd be."

The longer he sat there, the more he felt himself sink into the despondent pit in his mind. Yet no matter how he struggled to claw at the ground, it continued to drag him in earnest. The sharp peal of laughter—of taunting words that set his teeth on edge—mimicked the sound of Fortuna.

He wanted to scream, but who would be there to listen? Who would be there to drag him from the darkness now that you were gone?

A bag was tossed to the couch, barely breaking through the murkiness in his own mind. Laura dragged the only working chair in the kitchen closer to the couch. The snap and hiss of a Coke being opened filled the dire silence. Giving Logan something to latch onto. He might tell her one day how being near her settled the raging storm in his head; the calm he could never quite acquire somehow flowing through her with ease.

He had people to help him find you; people who cared for your well being.

People who would die to bring you home.

There would be no end for them where you weren't safe. Where they didn't offer themselves up on your behalf. You were the best of them. It certainly wasn’t your fault you fell in love with a man too twisted and mangled by pain to offer you even the illusion of peace.

"I know someone who might be able to help," she said, chewing thoughtfully on a granola bar. "You may not like it."

Wade's sigh was deafening, his body flopping back onto the couch with a groan. "We are not dragging McAvoy into this. Not when Stewart is better drama wise."

She took another bite, distant gaze stuck to a busted picture frame of Wade and Vanessa on an anniversary of some sorts. Wade wore red, Vanessa wore black. They resembled a couple others might look up to. Logan used to stare at it often in his fitful nights of sleep. More so when you wandered into his life; thoughts of a future tantalizingly close to the tips of his fingers.

He wanted that with you. A life worth more than every battle he fought, every scar that didn't stick. All the fucked up things he did evaporated like steam floating off water the second he met your eyes.

You and your honey-like smile; your hand a soft yet sturdy grip in his.

"Is your universe similar to this one?" Laura inquired, back in the moment as her mind reeled with possibilities.

"Somewhat."

"In what way?"

"Places and people still exist. It's pieces of time that are different. History isn't the same here." He could recall you begging him to explain his past. What wars he fought in, what happened for him to get to this point. Yet whatever you recorded wouldn't match the history books housed in your library.

Laura nodded, downing the last of her soda. "So places. Anywhere special she might have gone that might mean something to you?"

His mind fell to the one place even he couldn’t approach. The space that housed so many memories—so much agony. But going back there would mean facing the other X-Men and Fortuna wasn't stupid enough to risk falling into that trap.

"The mansion is too risky."

He thought back to your shared room. The walls that once flickered blue with Fortuna's power as he held her through the nightmares. He thought of a small two story farmhouse that sat on the outskirts of the property line. A home Charles offered. One he intended to rebuild with the promise of holding onto a love so permanent.

His heart dropped, laying in the base of his stomach like a stone he never intended to swallow. "I know where they are."

Wade perked up, arms an inch longer than before. "Mind sharing with the class peanut?"

Logan couldn't hear him over the noise in his head; the knowledge that Fortuna would pull such a heinous act of revenge. Taking you to the place he promised her. It made for the perfect ending to her already tragic story. Logan wasn't sure if he wanted to rip his claws into the couch below, or charge out the door with no plan.

He settled for heading to the hall closet, yanking the door open with more force than intended. It slammed against the wall as he tugged free a black unlabeled duffle bag from the top shelf. After the battle to save Wade's universe, he didn't think he would need this old yellow suit anymore. At the time he was tempted to throw it out and forget it existed.

He eventually came to his senses.

Salvaging what he could and rebuilding small pieces in case the time came formed an amalgamation of what once resembled an X-Men suit. His fingers traced the silver X attached to the belt. The symbol that once held so much hope. Fortuna wore the same. A tie that kept them forever bound; forever each other's equal even in a different universe.

"You're going after her," Laura said.

"Of course he is." Wade stumbled to his feet. "We're finally getting that family road trip."

"Would now be the wrong time to say Avenger's Assemble? Or should we wait for the third act battle sequence?"

Logan felt the gaping maw of his heart grow the longer you were apart from him. An itch formed beneath his skin. The source was indeterminable but he knew what caused it to start. His entire being called out to you, begged you to survive until he managed to carry you to safety. Yet the biting horror of reality began to settle like a frozen chill in his veins.

What if he finally destroyed the only good thing about his life?

What if he was too late?

What if...you didn't survive?

You couldn't differentiate night from day anymore. After the first two hours, you were left with a stabbing pain in the side of your head—turning your vision blurry. After what felt like five or six (or perhaps eight) you gave up on trying to keep count. The veins were prominent against your hands as blood steadily dripped to the floor.

A pool of crimson agony that you could practically see yourself in.

If you opened your eyes, would you see the broken parts of a soul she seemed intent on dragging out? Would they match hers? The sound of her gravel lilted voice murmured in the corner of the room where she waited. A stoic figure of patience. Seeking penance for the harm caused to someone so innocent.

You both knew this was a fight meant for Logan. You knew only one of them walked away from whatever age old hatred still burned bright enough to burn the skin off your body.

That didn't stop you from wishing you could shoulder the burden for him. The words collateral damage didn't mean anything to you before. Merely things spouted to harm your already vulnerable and emotional state. But the longer you gave them time to sink in, the more you accepted her veracity. You would cease to exist one way or another come tomorrow morning.

This was the ugly undeniable truth.

The one thing Logan could not save you from.

"I know you're awake."

Fear curled around your heart like a fist as your eyes cracked open sluggishly—triggering a dull pain in your skull. The ability to speak was stripped from you after an hour of screaming. The hoarse echo of your voice sent a throbbing knife down your throat you chose to ignore.

So you stared at her; watched while she paced the floor in front of you—blue rolling off of her like waves from the ocean.

"He's gonna come for you," she muttered more to herself. "He'll show up."

You groaned and watched her stiffen—milky eyes flashing cerulean. The burn of the rope on your skin counteracted the searing ache in your torso. Her whip hung around her waist—coated in a dried layer of your blood. The sight sent bile up your throat even though your stomach remained empty. She stared at you as if you were someone else entirely; someone from a past life you'd never know about.

The need to inquire—to know more—began to build under your skin. But your body would no longer respond to what you wanted. The depletion of your energy affected more than your ability to speak; it tore at what little movement you had, ripping everything to shreds on the inside. You knew you looked half dead—felt like it too—but she could see the slight twitch of your mouth almost ready to open.

"Charles would have liked you," she revealed as if it were a small secret meant to be kept between the two of you. "He always had an affinity for those interested in mutant powers."

Sucking in a breath, you managed to force your voice to work. "I-I know the history."

"I bet you would." She glanced at the window where dusk crept into the late afternoon sky; brilliant hues of orange and red mimicking the pain in your body. "I didn't think I'd exist in this universe."

"You don't," you croaked. "I'm not a mutant."

Her lips curled, a small laugh exhaling from her mouth. "Yeah. I guess you're not. Maybe that's what he likes about you."

Logan's face seeped into the back of your mind; the tender smile he wore when you woke up together. The hope in his eyes that this might remain a consistent part of his life. That he may have lucked out on the prospect of getting to have you for as long as you chose to keep him.

Suddenly that part of your life felt a million miles away. Just barely out of reach, growing further in distance the harder you tried to capture it.

"I-I'm you," you mumbled, head tipping to the side. "That's why."

"No. You're not me." She regarded you with a look of pity, lips down turned in a mock pout. Ire burned in your chest with the embers of a flame lit by Logan. "You're weak."

You huffed, digging your nails into your palms to divert your attention from the pain. "I survived you."

The slap that whipped across your face was unexpected. You cried out—head falling back against the chair—as she stood over you. Power emanating from her stance. This wasn't someone to toy with. You could see how she craved to rip your tongue from your mouth; the need to silence her variant crawling beneath her skin.

But something held her back from approaching that final line.

Something scared her.

"You won't die if you do it," you wheezed, struggling to breath through a nose so clotted with dried blood. "That's not how this works."

She sneered. "And you're smart enough to know how all of this works."

"So it seems."

Her fingers gripped your wrist, nails boring into your already sliced open skin, as she leaned over you. "The Logan in this universe is dead." You stuttered out a halfhearted breath; body ringing with a plea to stop. To put an end to this fucking torture. "How did he die?"

You winced, leveling her glare with one of your own. "He sacrificed himself."

"You're fucking with me," she laughed, the sound shrill and hoarse.

Neither of you heard the creak behind her. You could barely register anything other than the rush of blood that pounded against your eardrums. She seemed to be enjoying how your body slowly deteriorated beneath the strain of the pain. Far too distracted to notice the person creeping into the house—sunglasses on her face—claws extended in a stance of defense.

"Who garnered enough fucking attention from Logan Howlett for him to sacrifice himself?" she jeered.

"His daughter."

Fortuna spun whip in hand, as a young woman stood mere feet away. Her head was cocked in interest as if she'd never quite seen two identical people in the same room. You knew her name the second your eyes locked on her form. The same dark hair, same grim tight lipped frown. The same silver claws and stubborn streak.

The sight of Laura Kinney took your breath away.

She stood before you every bit the girl that Logan made her out to be as he spoke about her in shared conversations at your kitchen table. You could see the mirror image of her father in each expression, each small twitch of her body that prepared to fight. And something flared to life in your chest.

You were angry that Fortuna was about to hurt her. Logan's daughter was ready to put her life on the line to rescue someone she'd never met before.

A missing detail which didn't appear to matter to her. Logan loved you. That was certainly enough for her.

Fortuna gaped at her—astounded by the familiar details and hints that Laura was indeed telling the truth. Not only had Logan Howlett died in this world, but he left behind a legacy that would live on for him. He saved the only important thing in his life so she could one day do the same for the version of her father who would stay.

"He's here isn't he?" she asked calmer than you expected. The whip snapped to the ground. You flinched at the sound. A fact that Laura clocked within seconds—her head tilted in your direction.

Though you couldn't see her eyes behind the pink sunglasses, you knew that fury burned in them as they would her father's.

"He sends his regards." Laura's fingers curled into fists.

"A child," she spit. "He sent a child to do his bidding?"

She shrugged, lips curling into a false grin. "Don't worry. I'm more than capable of killing you."

You felt pride flicker in your heart as Logan's cocksureness bled through her words. Where Laura went, Logan wasn't too far behind. You pulled at the restraints, the burn of ropes dragging along open wounds, but you refused to let Laura do this on her own. It seemed that the both of you had turned to the same page—her head nodding in your direction subtly.

"Well." Fortuna stepped forward, sapphire pouring off her body. "I suppose Logan's legacy won't last long in this universe."

Laura charged forward with a scream, claws slicing at Fortuna's middle only for the whip to wrap itself around her arm. With a shout, Fortuna flung her to the side—watching with an unhinged smile as Laura hit the wall hard enough to make you wince. You tugged at the rope—a hoarse cry ripping from your throat when a boot slammed into the legs of the chair.

"Don't tell me you're ready to leave," she shouted. "We were bonding."

"Fuck you," you snapped.

"Ouch." Her hand gripped your chin, lifting you to meet her expressionless eyes. "Is that the best you can do, human?"

"No," you gasped, hand scrambling for the knife at her thigh. "This is."

It embedded in her arm, slicing open skin as she shouted in rage, stumbling back into Laura's vicinity. Claws ripped through the back of her leg, cutting open her calf, as a familiar dark head of hair slid past her, crouching in front of your chair with a roar.

"You bitch!" Fortuna tossed the blade to the side, her hand forming around the open wound.

It clattered against the floor seconds before the door burst open—a man in red bursting through and flinging yet another baby knife towards Fortuna's healing body. She ducked, whip coiling like a snake in the air, slamming down with a crack. Wade shrieked, flipping to the side and ducking behind the broken couch as the familiar click of a bullet falling into the chamber resonated in the air.

"I'd say I'll put my hands up but you'd probably tie them together huh. You kinky minx!"

You winced through the grin, Laura's eyes tracked Fortuna's movements like a predator waiting when to strike. Whatever the plan was, Logan was sure to make sure someone was on you at all times. If only to get you out of the house and into the forest safely. From there it was quick to disappear.

Wade seemed to be the distraction in this case. Fitting.

His head peeked over the couch—the whip slicing over him with a sound that pierced through you. "You die tonight Deadpool."

"You don't want me. You want my buddy right outside this house." He stood, finger pulling the trigger quicker than you expected. Only for a silver and blue whip to slice through it—the fragmented pieces of a smoking bullet hitting the floor and rolling away.

"Surrender you walking condom."

"Pump the hate brakes Wanda Maximoff." Another bullet slid into place. "Peanut junior? Would you like to take it away?"

Launching herself into the air, Laura toppled Fortuna to the side with a scream, her claws slashing to get her pound of flesh. Wade laughed, striding towards you—boot effortlessly kicking his knife up and into his hand. You’d never wanted to hug the man more.

He winced at the sight of your puffy face; your right eye was nearly swollen shut from where Fortuna decided to land her hits. A pastime she seemed to enjoy, simply to hear you scream.

You wondered if you took off the mask, would you see Wade's face bleeding with rage. Or did he too wear an expression of pity.

"Logan's gonna kill her," he muttered, crouching in front of you and sliding the knife through the ropes with ease. "I've got ya sweet angel."

"W-Where is he?" You staggered to your feet, Wade's arm wrapped tightly around your waist to keep you upright. "He can't be here. She'll kill him Wade."

He clicked his tongue, leading you to the front steps, past where Laura was busy twisting Fortuna's whip around her own neck. "He knows what's at risk, angel. Believe me. I offered to be the noble sacrifice but I played that card when it came to saving this universe and there's no take backs."

"He's gonna die," you rasped, your knees buckling as he got you over the last step. "H-He can't die."

Wade gripped your arms, settling you to the ground with a grunt. "You forget who you're fucking sweet angel. He's the Wolverine."

"But she's-"

"A toxic ex who can't seem to take no for an answer. We've all got one of those."

You huffed. "She's more than an ex."

"I know." Pulling the gun free from his thigh, he made sure you were safe before stepping back to the front stoop. "But that doesn't mean this isn't a daytime soap opera." He turned to the treeline with a sigh. "You coming, your majesty or should I roll out the red carpet?"

A glimpse of the man in question stopped your heart, the breath catching in your throat, as Logan finally stepped forth. His suit was sewn with pieces of black leather (no doubt from Wade's leftover stash), a yellow X stretched across his chest now became the sole focus. Yet that isn’t what filled your body with warmth.

This time he wore the suit with pride. A glint of determination was in his eyes that once never used to exist. He stepped forward the X-Man this world needed; ready and willing to take on the legacy of a man he once loathed. You felt your heart twist violently at the sight—love pouring into your chest faster than you could stop it.

"Honey," he breathed, rushing over—hesitation and a storm of outrage clashing together in his hazel eyes.

"I'm okay."

He huffed through his nose, hands gathering you gently in his arms. "Don't bullshit me honey."

Wade's cough was exaggerated, his hands gesturing to the doorway. Laura's shouts and the crashing of furniture being demolished spilled through the broken windows—her rage matching her father's right down to the familiar lilt of her roar. She was a fighter. Just like the man who held you as if you were glass. Your pain, now a reflection in his eyes as he took in what Fortuna did to you.

"You can't kill her. She’s too powerful," you stated.

“You’re safe.” He didn’t seem to comprehend your words. Opting to press you close enough to feel his body heat sink into your frigid form. “That’s all that matters.”

Wade ducked down, pressing his face close to Logan's. "Yeah. I don't mean to interrupt your romantic hero kiss the girl moment. But what the fuck are we gonna do?"

"She can't keep going like this," Logan replied. "Eventually she's gonna have to tap out."

"Of course! Makes perfect sense. Mind elaborating for the audience honey badger?"

Logan sighed, his hand cupping your face with a pained noise in the back of his throat. "Her energy will run out. Same as Charles and...Jean. They couldn't keep up the fight forever."

"Okay but the whole freezing time business." He glanced to the side, shoulders lifting in a perfunctory shrug. "I know right, we really could have explained this earlier."

"Mutants are aware." Logan rose to his feet, leaving you to sit on the ground, your hand outstretched to keep him here. "We have to struggle but we can break free if she's weak enough."

"Wow." Wade sagged, a muffled groan coming through the mask. "That's just lazy writing."

You gripped Logan's hand, forcing him to step closer. "You're not going in there."

"Honey-"

"No." Gripping the stair railing, you struggled to your feet—eyes blazing with a headstrong fighting spirit Logan loved you for. "She'll kill you Logan. I can't lose you. I-I won’t."

His breath was heavy, hand curling around the back of your neck to press his forehead to yours. "You're not gonna lose me alright? Not today."

"Logan-"

Wade gripped your arm, drawing your gaze to him. "Don't worry sweet angel. He's got a bodyguard." You leveled him with a glare that would have sent him six feet under if his mutant power wasn't regeneration. "Have I ever mentioned that your eyes are the perfect shade of rage and violence. It's like a beautiful fucked lava lamp from the eighties."

You weren't sure if he was paying you a compliment or trying to lighten the mood. Logan sighed against your cheek, disappointment practically bleeding through his words.

"Seventies Wade."

"He would know. He's from 753 B.D." He turned. "Before Deadpool."

"A.D.," you spit, fighting the hint of a grin that threatened to bloom across your face.

"Not in this universe."

A shout tore through the small sliver of peace as Laura was thrown from the house, landing in a bloodied heap on the grass. Mere seconds passed before she was flipping to her feet again, claws extended and glasses forgotten about in the dirt. You wondered if the surge of warmth in your chest was pride or something else entirely.

Perhaps one day you'd get the chance to figure it out.

"Time to go do what heroes do," Wade said, nudging Logan as Fortuna floated through the open doorway, landing mere feet away from where you stood.

"Wolverine," she crooned, her boots a steady thump against the wooden porch. "Come to rescue the human I see."

Logan gripped your waist, moving you away from the house with quick steps. You clawed at his back to get him to stop. To keep him from leaving you behind. But Laura's hands on your shoulders forced you to remain calm—to remain on the edge of the property and watch as the man your heart screamed for walked away.

"Logan!" you shouted, fighting against the girl's hold, but the wasted energy was all for naught. There was no breaking away from a determined Wolverine.

He rejoined Wade with a darkened grimace. His claws ripping through the flesh of his knuckles as Wade pulled free the katanas strapped to his back. Your voice shouting his name set his entire body on edge; the urge to go to you, comfort the panic that filled your veins, nearly breaking his spirit.

But this was not your war and Logan would go down fighting before he let another person he loved fall into the hands of death.

"Alright," Wade grunted, cracking his neck. "Maximum effort."

Fortuna's whip snapped in the air, slicing a gaping hole in time as Logan and Wade charged. She leapt forward, boot pushing off the railing and toppling into them with a shout—a stolen knife carving into Logan's shoulder. He shoved her off, claws swiping for her neck, teeth bared in a snarl.

She ducked, foot slamming into Wade's stomach, rupturing the surrounding area with a blast that sent Logan sliding back into the dirt. He grunted, claws burying into the soil as Wade reached for his guns. A single katana forgotten on the ground.

"Pathetic," she sneered.

"Look who's talking McFly." Wade fired off three rounds, watching her roll to avoid the bullets, her hands crushing the dead grass beneath her.

She pointed to Wade. "You're first."

He laughed. "Bring it on you witch bitch."

Fortuna scoffed, glancing at Logan. "Does he ever shut the fuck up."

"Ha! Good luck with that. I can go on forever."

The whip unraveled from her wrist, rapidly slicing towards Wade—wrapping around his arm in a dramatic rendition of what already happened. This time he was prepared. Sprinting towards Logan, he rolled to the side as claws dragged down your arm. Opening a wound in her arm; blood pouring down her skin, dripping onto the grass.

“Fuck!” she snapped, knife lodging into Wade’s back as she leapt towards Logan.

His knee met her stomach, slamming her a few feet back until she landed on the ground. A groan reverberating in her chest.

Time flickered, punching them in the chest as they fought to move. Air rushed to his lungs as she stumbled to her feet—time falling back into place. Wade grabbed the second gun strapped to his thigh with a huff. The shot went off, the bullet finding its mark in Fortuna's wounded arm.

She screamed, falling to one knee—waves of blue pouring into the ground, forming a bubble of safety. She plucked at the fabrics of the universe, pulling them towards her as Wade pulled the trigger until the mag was empty. A pile of bullets by her body now trapped in light.

"Fuck!" Wade tossed his gun to the side.

Logan turned to see Laura holding you back, your face stricken in fear as you watched them battle it out. It was a struggle to have you here. To keep himself sane. He longed for you to be you close. What he wouldn’t give to take you away from all of this carnage. But you weren't safe as long as Fortuna was around.

She would always be a step behind, ready to chase him to the ends of this universe simply to watch him burn. He knew what he had to do. But the cost of making that choice weighed heavy on his chest—choking the very breath from his lungs. Wade could see it clear as day even as Fortuna began to build enough strength to keep herself going—to pull one final move.

With a shout, she swung her arms out, forcing enough energy their way to fling them into the air. Logan watched as spots began to form on his skin—time ripping away the very makeup of his DNA as she swung her whip in the air. It latched to his waist, dragging him forward until he was on his knees—body struggling to heal from something so unknown.

"Is she worth it?" she sneered, fingers curling into his hair to maneuver his head to keep his eyes on you. The struggle you put up to free yourself from Laura's grasp. "I'm going to kill her next Logan."

"No." He pushed against the vice of your whip, eyes latching onto the white streak hidden in your hair. A sign of what Fortuna had already started.

"I'll age her day by day, year by year, until she's dust."

"NO!"

She laughed, her lips brushing his cheek. "And you? You will have to live without her."

Tears stung his eyes when you finally managed to slip through Laura's hold, legs trembling as you forced your body to sprint his way. The sight of Logan's hair graying, wrinkles carving across his skin, brought you to the edge of your sanity. It ripped at your chest until blood poured from your heart. Staining the ground beneath you.

You couldn't lose him; you didn't know how to breathe without him. And you refused to watch him die from the sins of his past; actions he did not commit.

"Wait!" Laura shouted, running after you as Wade staggered to his feet.

"Angel!"

There was no thought process to your actions, no sense why you did what you did. All you could think about—all that filled your heart with dread—was the knowledge that Logan wouldn't survive this. He wouldn't be there to love you, give you the future you desperately ached for. He would never know you loved him.

That alone drove you forward with a pained cry.

Flinging yourself onto Fortuna, you sent the both of you flying a few feet away as Wade and Laura ran to rip her off you. But time stopped. Every sound stilled, and they were forced to stand and watch as Fortuna straddled your waist—her hands reaching for your throat.

"What do you have huh?" she snarled. "What the fuck do you have that I don't?"

"Please!" You punched her wherever you could reach, desperate to get her off of you. "He-"

"He what?"

"He wouldn't want you to do this Fortuna."

She laughed, manic enough to chill your heart with fear. "Who Logan? You think I fucking care? I would kill him in a-"

"CHARLES!" She froze, eyes flashing sapphire as her grip loosened. Giving you a chance to suck in air. "H-He loved you. Logan told me."

"Charles," she mumbled—a glimpse of your shared original color of her eyes coming through the expanse of white. "He's..."

"Dead." You gasped, turning to see three people you'd die for struggling against time—their bodies battling the power of someone far too corrupt. Someone who forgot where they came from; who their home was. "Your family...my family...they wouldn't want you to become this. P-Please. Charles, Jean, Storm. They didn’t want this for you."

She turned, gaze softening. "You would die for them."

Hot tears burned your frigid skin—falling down your temples and into your hair. "I would."

Stuttering out a breath, she fixed you with a gaze of someone you might have recognized in the mirror. A woman so broken by what time did to her. What the humans caused all because of her DNA. You wanted to promise that life might have turned out different if Logan stayed; that she would be safe. But even you knew it would be a lie.

There would be no saving her from the one thing that created her.

Time.

Leaning down, she pressed her forehead to yours—defeat curving around her shoulders, weighing heavy against her heart.

"Tell him I'm sorry," she murmured.

Pain detonated under your skin before you could open your mouth to respond, forcing your body to convulse in her tight grip. Scarred hands pressed tightly to your face, pinning you to the ground as her whip latched around your chest. Logan's roar became a distant buzzing sound that surrounded you as blue washed over your twisted bodies.

Her brows furrowed, eyes bleeding white as her iris began to form once more—the long lost color that matched your own gaze.

A mirror you wanted to shatter. Damn the bad luck that might befall you; this remained too agonizing to endure.

Her lips pressed to your ear, the pain ebbing from your veins with each pulsing wave. You clawed at her wrists, nails slicing through calloused skin as a scream erupted from the depths of your chest. Piercing the air and slamming directly into three chests.

People who were ripping at the ground to get to you—pulling their bodies across dirt as the curse of time began to lift from the air.

"Do better than me," she whispered, the hot drip of her tears mixing with your own.

Someone yanked her off of you, hurling her to the side with a familiar rumbled growl. You gasped for air, dragging your half limp body away from where Logan stood over her—claws a silver shine emanating with a promise.

"No!" Laura and Wade's hands clamped on your shoulders—keeping you at a safe enough distance. This time refusing to give you any leniency in your movements.

Logan lowered himself to one knee, chest heaving with stunted breaths as Fortuna lay before him—eyes wide with fear. He knew you were behind him. He could feel the burn of your gaze. But all the pain Fortuna caused began to splinter at what little mercy he might have held onto. Yet still the familiar fist of grief wrapped around his heart, reminding him of who Fortuna was.

The woman he once loved.

The woman he couldn't save.

"P-Please," she sighed, hand gripping onto his wrist, tugging his claws against her chest. "Before I hurt you Logan. Before I hurt her."

"I-" He squeezed his eyes shut to the sight of a you so broken—so defeated. "I'm sorry."

She grinned, eyes clear for the first time—weightless after such suffering. "It’s okay. I-I’ll get to see them again. Charles. Jean. Storm."

A sob wracked his body as he dragged her into his lap, hand cupping her face with the tenderness she deserved. "Tell them I'm sorry. Tell them..."

"I will," she murmured, allowing him the freedom to break the final vow of their love. "Till death huh baby?"

Your shouts of his name echoed in the background—Wade's voice mixing with Laura's—and suddenly Logan understood why he found himself here. Why he would stay.

They weren't just his family. They were pieces of his heart sliced open and bared to the ravages of the world. And he would be their protector. The one to meet what danger threatened them head on; willing to fight till his last breath.

He'd be the person he could never be for her.

"Of course," he sighed, tears streaking down his cheeks. "Till death."

"Love her," she breathed, cupping his cheek and forcing his claws to pierce her chest. He sliced through her with a choked shout, the warmth of her blood spilling over his hands. Tainting him further; breaking his already tormented heart. "Love her how you couldn't love me Logan."

"I will honey." Her eyes dragged to how you lay on the ground, Wade's body practically covering yours to keep you from getting any closer. "I promise."

Light flickered in her vision—white and blue and perfect—as Logan clutched her close. Sobbing over a woman he would forever hold the memory of. The last of his family that he couldn't save. Her lips curled into a smile—serenity glistening in her eyes—as a familiar voice echoed in her mind. Tugging her close into welcoming arms.

"Hello Fortuna."

She stuttered out what little breath remained in her chest, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Charles."

"I like it," a voice mumbled, breaking through the darkness that shrouded your body. "And not just cause Ness has one."

A girl hummed. "It's cool."

"Very superhero."

You groaned, body battling any slight movement as your eyes fluttered open with a wince. Light streamed through a grand window, the bed too soft to be yours, yet you knew who sat beside you. Even through the blurred haze of vision, Wade's face was unmistakable. Shifting, you felt everything in you lock up—a hoarse cry falling past your lips.

Hands pushed you back down, steadying you gently as you were finally able to see the other person sitting on a table, munching on some fries. She had a shake beside her—feet propped up on the back of Wade's chair. The sunglasses she lost in the dirt were back atop her head, keeping her hair back.

"Whoa there angel face." He fluffed the pillow violently, jolting you slightly. "You've got two broken ribs and a wound across your torso that would give me being ripped in half by Juggernaut a run for my money."

"W-Where's-"

"Shhh." He raised a crystal glass of water to your lips. "Nurse Wade is here to take care of you. Sorry I don't have the outfit. I couldn't get to a Spirit Halloween in time."

Laura snorted into her food. "It's July."

"That doesn't matter. Those stores are like herpes. You can't ever get rid of that fucker."

"Where's Logan," you said through a broken whisper.

The silence isn't what scared you. No, you'd been through too much to be scared by the threat of nothing but melancholy looks in favor of telling you the truth. You could handle the quiet. What sent terror into your heart was the fact that you knew before you even opened your eyes where he was. His warmth was nowhere to be found in this bedroom; it barely lingered on your own body.

The man who held your heart, who promised to always protect you, was gone.

"No," you breathed, tears welling up and once again blurring your vision.

"He didn't want to go," Laura interjected.

You blinked furiously to keep them at bay. "What do you mean?"

"Fortuna." She pointed to the window that overlooked an expanse of green.

With a pained gasp, you turned to see what she was directing you towards—eyes fixing on a clearly buried grave covered in fresh dirt. A shovel stood straight, plunged a foot into the ground—the handle covered in a stain of deep brown.

Laura exhaled heavily. "She's dead. Logan buried her after he...killed her."

The breath rushed from your lungs, anguish slicing through your heart. "He..."

Wade nodded, somber and horrifyingly quiet. "He wanted to stay sweet angel. We forced him to go."

"Why?" you exclaimed, your body trembling under the stress of waking up too soon. "If he wanted to stay-"

"He was broken. I thought when I found him it was bad. This was worse angel face." Wade gathered your hands in his, drawing you close with a sigh. "He needs to grieve her."

"But I love him," you whimpered, unashamed by how fast the tears were falling. Laura watched you with the eyes of her father—striking your heart in a way that split you in two. "I-I didn't get to tell him."

"He knew," she murmured softly. "Trust me."

Wade pressed a swift kiss to your hands. "He'll come home. I made him fucking promise to return to you. But right now he's gotta figure some shit out."

Laura slipped off the table, curled onto the end of the bed and handed you something folded and crumpled—streaked in stains of blood and ink that bled through the thin notebook paper. You took it with a shaky breath, cold hands closing around hers with a grim smile. Something to let her know that you were thankful for everything she did.

She wasn't your daughter. This you knew. But you wouldn't mind if she bestowed that title on you one day.

In fact...you hoped she would.

"He told me to give that to you," she said, eyes brighter than before.

You sucked in a painful breath, unfolding the letter with trembling hands. Seeing his handwriting was like a punch to your chest. The smudged words and crossed out lines as he attempted to explain himself in words for the first time. This wasn't his forte—you understood that—but the fact that he tried filled your chest with warmth.

Honey,

Don't hate Wade or even my kid for me not being there. Believe me I fuckin' wanted to. Almost ripped him to pieces when he told me I had to go for your sake. But they were right. You Fortuna was the only family I had left. I have to remember what loving her felt like. I need to let her go.

Wade and Laura are there to protect you, care for you like I can't right now. But I made a promise to you and her. So you can expect me back one day.

I care about you

I love you.

So much.

I'll love you till the end honey. Don't forget that.

-Logan

You clutched the paper to your chest, salt coating your taste buds as you sobbed for the man that you failed to protect. You would have died for him. He knew this. Perhaps that's why he left; to give you a chance to heal without him. To return as the Logan you met, not the one mangled by grief.

Laura moved closer, her hand shifting to clutch yours as tears glistened in her eyes. A solemn smile on her face. This is what Logan offered you. People who loved you; people who would die for you. Logan made sure that even in his absence you'd be safe—protected.

He gave you the one thing he couldn't keep for himself. The one aspect of his life he had to learn to accept.

Logan left you a family.

note: my brain is mush but i love you guys. it will get better i promise!

[cienie-isengardu]

Khaos Reigns and the matter of Lin Kuei

Warning: rant not spoiler free!

I said it before and I will say it again: Netherrealm Studio does not utilize the plot of Lin Kuei brothers to its fullest potential. And by brothers I don’t just mean Bi-Han and Kuai Liang. Mind you, their Khaos Reigns’ strained relationship comes back to Mortal Kombat 1 (2023) mess, so it’s not that there is no sense in how they interact. I’m frustrated by it but my frustration is not directed at characters itself but at NRS that does all in their power to *not* give us the heartbreaking story of shattered brotherhood - and it says a lot that we have much more wholesome relationship between Bi-Han/Noob and Sektor or Kuai Liang and Cyrax than we have with brothers themselves.

This is however not the most frustrating thing about the Lin Kuei brothers plot for me but how the previous game established Smoke and Kuai Liang as the “true brothers” and then Khaos Reigns ignores Tomas even more than the last time. And let’s be honest here: last time Tomas already was shoved hardy to the background.

The thing about Khaos Reigns that killed the most my enthusiasm is not actually Bi-Han/Noob & Kuai Liang subplot (as frankly, I did except the worst), nor even how NRS handled Noob after “mending his mind”. I’m fully disappointed and absolutely frustrated how the new part of Liu Kang’s timeline is heavily centered at Lin Kuei and TOMAS IS NOT THERE AT ALL. Everyone, including Scorpion, totally ignore his existence during the meeting before the mission to Chaosrealm.

The scene I’m talking about went like this:

Kitana: Which is why you believe we need Sektor. Liu Kang: As Lin Kuei, she and Cyrax are trained for this type of mission. And they have the benefit of being with us, here. I can send them immediately, under Scorpion’s command -- Scorpion: I want neither’s help. I will go alone.  Liu Kang: That would be unwise.

See? Not for the first time we hear that Lin Kuei were trained since childhood for that kind of mission, so Kuai Liang and Sektor are natural choice, sure, but no one even for a moment thought about including Tomas - whose BIO specifically said he “chose to make the Lin Kuei’s mission his own. But as he lacked his brothers' innate supernatural abilities, he set out to master practical magic. Having done so, he now joins them in Earthrealm's defense."

There is a reasonable excuse or two to leave him behind I can make out of my head within seconds. For example, as a backup plan if the mission has failed, so there is someone to command Shirai Ryu  during battle. Or leaving Smoke behind to keep Harumi and/or their clan safe, as Scorpion can’t trust there won’t be another attack of Lin Kuei. But apparently even for a second it did not cross Kuai Liang’s mind to take Tomas - his trusted, loyal brother -  with himself, as counterargument to taking Cyrax and Sektor on a deadly mission. That Kuai Liang did not trust his former comrades makes absolutely sense, but this is why Smoke’s presence could be a good preventive measure. Scorpion did not ever utter any wish to have Tomas there at his side. Instead, Kuai Liang wanted to go alone (a mindset actually shared with Bi-Han!) and we got the Lin Kuei storyline with Tomas BEING THE ONLY ONE (EX)LIN KUEI NOT INCLUDED AT ALL.

Remember when the fandom was so angry at Bi-Han for not considering Tomas to be true Lin Kuei ("Mind your place, Tomas. Father may have taken you in, made you one of us... but your blood will never be Lin Kuei.”)? One year later, this exact scene on one hand actually backs up Sub-Zero’s claim, as even Kuai Liang does not consider Tomas to have at his side in a dire situation and opting to go alone. Which is why NRS should in my opinion allow *any* character to excuse the lack of Smoke at Mileena’s palace or why Liu Kang couldn’t teleport him there to aid Scorpion in his mission.

On another hand, the Khaos Reigns is about Lin Kuei more than ever while Tomas has barely few speaking lines and is totally removed from Lin Kuei brotherhood storyline. This was the perfect opportunity to add Smoke into the main group and expand our understanding of the relationship and history of characters. And hey, Bi-Han and Tomas too were once brothers and it would be really nice, if their brotherhood got some focus too, instead of excluding Smoke from it completely. Which again, adds a new layer to how hypocritical Kuai Liang was in the first game, with all the declaration how he and Tomas may not share a blood but they were brothers, when Scorpion A) has never once(?) mention Smoke through the new storyline nor B) even for a moment considered how Bi-Han’s death - his choice to not save their brother - could affect Tomas who, as intro dialogues imply, wished Scorpion and Sub-Zero could reconcile.  I understand why NRS put the focus on blood brothers, but it is the studio’s own choice to add Tomas to said brotherhood in the first place and by excluding him, they paint Scorpion as very self-centered and selfish man that is so focused on himself and his anger at Bi-Han, he literally gives no fucks about Tomas’ feelings on the matter. Which is… a surprising choice to say at least. 

We literally could have all Lin Kuei main heroes interacting on the same mission. A chance that most likely won’t happen too soon, if ever again.

So, yeah, I’m disappointed in that regard, as Tomas and Bi-Han once again got the short end of the stick from all the available Lin Kuei characters. With the one difference that Bi-Han, whatever presented as a good or bad person, brings some weight and impact on the storyline and other heroes. Tomas though? He could be cut away and his absence would change literally nothing.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mad Season 6 🕸 Story A

Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: this is Peter's side of the story.

Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Um...” you drone dumbly at Peter. “I don’t know.” 

He stares back at you. He looks scared, “you don’t know?” 

“I’m sorry, I...” the raucous party rumbles on inside the walls. “I can’t think here.” 

“Hey, let me grab my jacket, we can talk outside,” he offers. “Wait, where’s your coat? You can’t go out like that?” 

You look down and realise you left your jacket inside. In fact, he took it. You shrug and he holds up a finger.  

“Please, just give me a chance.” 

You nod. What else can you do? He rushes back through the door and you turn away. You try to ignore the couple sloppily lapping at each other’s mouths. 

You don’t know what to think. You can barely cling to a coherent thought. Bucky’s warning echo in your head. Isn’t this proof? There are other girls, not just you. Yet, you keep asking yourself why you care about them. Peter asked you to be his lab partner, not his girlfriend. 

In fact, no one has ever asked you to be their girlfriend. Why would they? You’re quiet and boring. You shrink back against the wall and peer down at the floor. You should just tell Peter to go back to MJ. 

He appears and your resolve rots away. He only has his coat. “Hey, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t find your coat. I looked all over. The green one right? With the orange buttons? I don’t know what happened but take mine.” 

He holds you his jacket, “Oh, it’s fine. I can’t--” 

“Now what kinda jerk would I be if I let you go cold?” He insists. “I’ll be fine. Really. I like the cold.” 

You blink and take the jacket. You don’t like arguing. You already feel bad enough after barging in on him and MJ. You can’t stop thinking of it. God. It feels so... wrong. 

He walks you down the hall. You’re both silent. You keep distance between you as you get to the elevator and ride it without saying a word. You go out into the lobby and as you get to the front door, you grab the front of his jacket and start to push it off. 

“Please, keep your coat. I should go home--” 

“Just hear me out, okay?” He begs and stops you from taking off the coat. “Please.” 

You face him and dip your chin, “okay.” 

He sighs. You peek up from under your eyelids. He smiles nervously, cheeks pinkening, and he shifts his weight on his feet. He clears his throat. 

“Look, I’m an idiot. I went into that room with MJ. I know how she is. I’m not going to play victim here. All I can say is it won’t happen again.” His jaw ticks, “I’m a dummy. I was... I was so nervous about talking to you. I know you hate parties but I thought if I was drinking I could just tell you how I feel. And of course, it just made me stupid.” 

Your mouth falls open. He can’t be saying what you think he is. Right?

Before you can respond, the door to the lobby opens and you look over as MJ struts out. Her long legs are toned in her heels and her short leather skirt. Her hair is perfect and her makeup brings out her natural colouring. She’s perfect and you’re wearing a pleated skirt. 

You look at Peter again and deflate. 

“Peter,” MJ approaches, “why’d you run off?” 

“MJ,” he sighs, “I told you--” 

“What did you tell me before you had my tongue down your throat?” She smirks. 

“Stop,” he snips. “I said no.” 

“But you didn’t stop me,” she scoffs. “And now what? You’re scurrying around with her? Really? Her?” 

“Don’t be mean,” Peter steps between you and her, as if he’s trying to hide you. 

“You call it mean, I call it honesty,” she chirps back. 

“Get out of here. You weren’t even invited,” he snarls as he reaches back and latches onto your wrist. 

“When did you turn into such a fucking loser?” She snips and shoves him.  

He collides with you but takes most of the impact. She stomps out in her clunky heels as you turn to watch her. She doesn’t look back. 

Slowly, you spin back to Peter, “are you alright?” 

“Yeah, fine,” his shoulders droop. “Look, I get it. I screwed up. I don’t want to ruin the rest of your night. I already dragged you here. Just, take my coat, get home safe. Be done with me.” 

His eyes twinkle wetly and his nose twitches. He looks like he could cry. As small as you are, he seems even smaller in that moment. 

“You didn’t let me answer,” you say. 

His forehead lines in confusion and his lips open wordlessly. 

“I... I’m surprised is all. It’s been a weird night and...” You sway and fold your hands. “I’m kind of a mess myself. I really don’t do well in crowds. I know you know that.” You try to smile. “And I know it’s lame but... I really do try and...” you look away and your cheeks heat up. “I don’t think I would if I didn’t like you too.” 

Another suffocating silence sucks the air out of the room. You fidget and stare at your boots. You wince as Peter steps closer. He surprises you as he pulls the jacket closed and does up the zipper. As the tab reaches the top, he taps your chin and you look up at him shyly. 

“Can I walk you home?” He asks as he brushes his hand down the sleeve and tickles your fingers. 

A full smile breaks through and you nod giddily, “sure.” You grab onto his hand, vibrating in vibrant excitement. Can he feel you shaking? 

“You still cold?” He asks as he tugs you towards the door. You shake your head but as you step outside, he puts his arm over your shoulder and pulls you close. He walks you down the pavement as a blistering wind blows around you. “Gotta keep my girl warm, huh?” 

“Your... girl?” You squeak. 

He hums and squeezes you tight, “all mine.” 

[theanimeroom]

BOMBSHELL | TEASER

synopsis: five men, five women, one villa. with hearts and a $50,000 cash prize on the line, who will win the race to find love?

warnings: love island au featuring: tokyo revengers, blue lock, and jujutsu kaisen, lots of kissing, smut, multi characters × reader, lots of mixed pairings, very random challenges, fluff, slow burns, mentions of cheating, drama, angst, plenty of tears, multi fandom, and playlists included!

a/n: content warnings will be posted with each chapter, so be sure to read thoroughly before indulging! i haven't written a full fic in a while, so any beta readers would be appreciated to make sure that the story comes out as best as it could <3 the story will progress through my own discretion as well as voting at the end of each chapter, so make sure to cast your votes to see how the plot will unfold!

BOMBSHELL MASTERLIST

your heartbeat was erratic as you stood in front of the fire pit and your host, eyes scanning the expanse of the large, beautiful villa that you'd been staying at for the past four weeks.

you still remember the first day that you walked in here; a plethora of pretty faces greeting you with happy smiles and intrigued expressions. you reminisced the way that you were almost as nervous as you are now, eyes wide and palms clammy as you tried to ignore the growing anxiety surging through you. you thought about all the experiences you'd had up until this point, all the friends you made, all the things you learned about yourself, and most importantly, him.

out of everything that you had been through in your time at the villa, one thing that made the whole experience worth it was finally meeting the person of your dreams. you came onto the show thinking that it would be something fun, maybe slightly embarrassing, but fun nonetheless. you never thought that you would come out the end with someone that you could call your own, someone who understood you seemingly better than you knew yourself. despite all the fights, all the tears, and everything in between, you managed to come out the other end okay. happy even.

and you weren't the only one.

your gaze fluttered to your best friend, who stood two people away from you, a proud smile crossing your lips even with your nerves consuming you. you weren't the only person who came into the villa with baggage on their shoulders, yet none of you let it stop you. a brief image of you holding her as she cried into your arms flashed through your mind, the sadness and betrayal leaving her a wreck in your makeup room. you'd thought for a moment that it would be the end of your time together, yet you were happy to see her pull through and find happiness in the end.

everyone here had done their absolute best, even with their rights and wrongs, and that thought alone was enough to quell the queasy feeling building up in your stomach.

"alright islanders, it is officially time," the hosts' voice chopped through the nerve-wracking silence with ease, her calm expression giving no hints as to how the end of the night would go. a long sigh escaped your flared nostrils as you closed your eyes, teeth grazing your bottom lip as you forced your emotions to stay in check.

a soft hand turned your attention to your left, air escaping you as you looked up at the man you could truly say you were starting to love. he smirked at you, his own expression laced with playfulness as he tried his best to calm you down. a large grin spread across your face when you felt fingers interlocking with yours, a gentle squeeze giving you all the reassurance you needed to keep yourself grounded for the time being. your breath halted as he leaned down, lips just barely touching the shell of your ear as he whispered to you softly. "we'll be fine, baby."

you pulled away so you could glance into his eyes, a small nod giving him confirmation that you heard what he said. you trust him, probably more than you should.

"it has been a long, hard journey for those of you remaining," your host started, giving a soft smile to each of the islanders standing on the other side of the firepit. "yet, each of you has managed to find a connection here in the villa. although some of you have been through more struggles than others," you could feel the heat rising onto your face when your eyes made direct contact with hers, a snort escaping you as you laughed with the rest of the islanders that you could now call your best friends. "you all have made it to the finals, and are now in the running for the 50,000 dollar prize on the line."

you subconsciously tightened your grip on his hand at the mention of the prize, your body weight shifting from one foot to the other. you wanted to win, wanted that 50,000 so badly so you could finish your schooling without issues. yet, you were content with whatever outcome was prepared for you. in the end, as long as you had him next to you, you would give up the money in a heartbeat.

"since the start of the show, the country has been voting for their favorite love island couple," each word she spoke left your anxiety spiking, your mind begging her to just hurry up and give the results before your heart exploded from suspense. "but now, they have voted for their official love island winner."

you held your breath as you stared at the host, silence taking over the villa as she picked up a small envelope from the couch behind her. you eyed the paper with angst as she peeled it open slowly, reading the results before looking up at the lot of you behind the fire pit.

you watched as her jaw flexed, a breath getting sucked into your mouth as your heart started to beat so fast you thought it would jump out of your chest.

her mouth opened, eyes scanning the crowd before the first words left her lips. "and the winner... of love island is..."

[anamericangirl]

A South Carolinan woman was arrested and held for 22 days in jail after being initially denied bond, but eventually released with an ankle monitor, after suffering a miscarriage of a wanted daughter in the second trimester and being charged with murder.

This is the horror of criminalizing abortion. Jail time for a miscarriage.

It's great that y'all send me these stories because the lies you and the media spread need to be exposed and I'm happy to be the one to expose you as the liar you are.

And I'm done being nice about this. Just so you know, spitting lies in my inbox doesn't work on me because I actually read the stories and will provide the context you maliciously leave out and show everyone that pro-aborts like you never tell the truth.

First of all, the story you are referring is about a woman named Amari Marsh and what actually happened here was she woke up in the middle of the night in a lot of pain and went to the bathroom where she gave birth to a live baby over the toilet.

Her boyfriend called 911 and dispatcher repeatedly told her to get the baby, who was still alive, out of the toilet but no one did. And the reason she gave for ignoring the dispatcher and just leaving her child to drown in the toilet was "“I couldn’t because I couldn’t even keep myself together.”

When the emergency responders arrived the baby was still in the toilet and still alive. They attempted to perform life saving procedures and rushed the baby to the hospital but sadly, the baby died while at the hospital.

The reason she was arrested is because she failed to remove her living daughter from the toilet as she was instructed to do several times by the dispatcher which ended up being "a proximate cause of her daughter’s death."

Anti-abortion laws had nothing to do with this case and the CNN article that reports on this story even includes that admission from the prosecutor even though it's at the end because, like you, they are liars and want people to believe this is somehow the fault of abortion bans when it's not.

So tell me, what do abortion laws have to do with this? What anti-abortion law is responsible for the death of a baby that was born alive?

This baby was born alive and her mother left her to die in the toilet. So she should not be charged for that?

And also, just going to add people like you always claim infanticide has nothing do with abortion and y'all are still laughing at Donald Trump for talking about babies being left to die after birth following failed abortions because iT dOeSnT't HaPpEn but here we have a case of it happening. This baby was born alive and left to die. This was a case of infanticide and you pro-aborts are immediately blaming anti-abortion laws but I thought abortion and infanticide aren't related so how come they are in this case?

Anyway, you should feel bad about how you presented this story. You should be ashamed of yourself for either being willing to lie to promote murder or being too lazy and stupid to actually read about the case before spreading blatant disinformation.

I know me responding to you with what really happened will not change anything for you and you will continue to lie and spread disinformation because the reason you are willing to do that in the first place is a serious flaw in your character that will only change when you decide to be a better person but at the very least people reading this will know not to ever trust these claims from pro-aborts because it's always a lie.

So please keep sending these because it helps everyone see that pro-aborts are bad people who lie about everything.

[ghouldtime]

Neighbor! König Part 2

Follow up to this:

After you expressed interest in his miniature collection, he actually actively OFFICIALLY invited you over one evening (and inside!)

It may not sound like much to most to be invited into someone's house but for him, it's the ultimate trust. His house is his private space, his sanctuary, where he goes to be without other people

He doesn't ever invite anyone inside unless necessary or they've truly gained his trust and being invited INTO his house, and actually into a shared space of one of the hobbies that matter the most to him?? Yeah, that's how he says he likes you

He's been working on his models and dioramas for so so long he's incredibly proud and can't help but to want to actually show them off to someone who wants to see

Usually most people don't care :( or think it's weird

But you've embraced it! You're so excited and he's over the moon, he's having the best day ever, if you do research and bring him gifts or show him some new ideas

He has exquisite attention to detail and INSISTS on everything being exactly the way he envisions it. And you notice! You actually notice. Which means you care about his hobbies, the work he puts in, and therefore him

It might be a bit early to say the L word but he's feeling certain ways

He may be a big dude but that doesn't mean he lacks fine motor skills. He's laying those tiny pieces of moss onto the cobble stones like a PRO

Miniatures allow him control over the environment, even if it's on a smaller scale, and offer a way to keep his hands and mind busy so he often throws himself into it

It also helps him relive happier memories. He's afraid of forgetting them and when he's stressing, it's his happy place because he can look at them and simply remember the things in life that matter

He'll ask you about a story you like or a favorite show or book or movie. That's his next miniature planned (in secret. Can't ruin the surprise, he needs to have it all perfect. He will either read the book, watch the movie, will study EVERY detail)

He will start to invite you over when he's having a painting night or is working on them. You don't have to follow his rules or do what he wants! He's just happy you're there and appreciating it

He will always have your favorite snacks and drinks in stock too. Need to make it fun and can't have you going hungry

If you want, he'll put on background noise! He's happy to make it immersive and to light a candle or put something in a diffuser to really set the scene you're going for. But he's perfectly happy to hangout with you as is

You'll finally get to hear him laugh and hear his really, really bad jokes. He has a dry sense of humor and most of what he says isn't even close to funny, he's awkward like that

But if you laugh? That's it, he's sold.

Time flies so fast when you're over, you don't even realize it's 3am

You don't need to go home! I know it's right across the street but he has a guest room and it saves you the trip in the morning. You have a whole nother round of characters to paint :)

Okay maybe it was an excuse so you could see the curtains he'd made and the pillows and he decorated the guest room with! Like actually tried decorating. They're made with love, that's what counts right?

Did he spray the pillows with his cologne before you came over? Maybe, but he won't ever admit to it

You can't complain. Not when he insists it's no trouble at all, you should stay over, and he does everything he can to make you comfortable.

And you're certainly not complaining when you wake up to breakfast in bed

He's so happy to finally have someone to share his life with, even if it's nothing official. He might not say it because words are hard, but he'll always show it in every way that he can 💚

If you look closely at the replica he made of his childhood home, you'll notice two figures in the kitchen who just so happen to look like you and him

Proud believer of König being just a guy! A guy with hobbies! A guy with a calm domestic life! Just because he's a private military contractor doesn't mean he's a constantly violent dude or a guy who lacks an immense amount of respect for boundaries. Sure, he gets really into his job when he does it, but that's his realm! That's his zone. That's why he's confident and having fun, he knows he's good

Outside of work, he's just a guy with a troubled childhood making the best of life and trying to find his own sense of belonging, happiness, and peace

Justice for König, he's not an insane perv or some freakytron or some stalker :(

[rootedinrevisions]

Unplanned Journeys: Part 2

SUMMARY: The journey through pregnancy unfolds as you and Jake navigate each milestone together. From the nerves at your first doctor’s appointment to the tender moment when Jake notices your baby bump for the first time, everything feels more real with each step. At the anatomy scan, you find out the gender, sparking sweet discussions about names and the future. As you work together to set up the nursery, Jake’s suggestion to move in makes your growing family feel even more complete. Finally, the big day arrives, and after an exhausting labor, you hold your baby in your arms—marking the beginning of the next chapter of your life.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! I hope you enjoy it! Also, there will be AT LEAST one more part to this coming. I haven't decided yet how long I want to make this story quite yet.

WARNINGS: Angst. Unplanned pregnancy.

WORD COUNT: 4.2K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The sterile scent of the clinic filled the air as you sat in the waiting room, nervously tapping your foot against the tiled floor. The crinkle of a magazine in your lap was the only thing distracting you from the tight knot in your stomach.

It was a familiar setting—nothing new about doctor's offices, after all. I mean you'd been to the doctor's before. But today felt different. Monumental.

Jake sat beside you, his hand resting on your knee, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles. Every so often, his gaze would flicker over to you, checking in silently. His calm presence should have grounded you, but the nerves were relentless, pulsing under your skin. This wasn’t just any appointment. This was the first time you’d be seeing your baby.

“Breathe,” Jake murmured softly, his voice low so only you could hear. “You’re squeezing the life out of that magazine.”

You glanced down, realizing your knuckles were white as you gripped the edges of the glossy pages.

You let out a shaky breath and loosened your hold, giving him a small smile. “I didn’t even notice.”

“I did,” he said with a teasing grin, but his eyes were soft. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to feel that same confidence radiating from him, but the fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of your mind. What if something was wrong? What if—

The sound of your name being called jolted you out of your thoughts. You stood up, your legs feeling like jelly beneath you, and Jake rose with you, his hand slipping into yours. His grip was firm, reassuring, as you followed the nurse down the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest.

The exam room was small but cozy, with pale blue walls and an exam bed in the center. The ultrasound machine sat next to it, and just seeing the equipment sent another wave of nerves washing over you. This was really happening.

The nurse smiled kindly, gesturing for you to take a seat on the exam table. “We'll have you go ahead and undress from the waist down. You can lie back and make yourself comfortable. The doctor will be in shortly.”

As you lay back, the flimsy paper sheet thing they had given you covered your midsection down to your thighs. Your stomach twisted with anticipation. Your mind raced with a thousand thoughts, but Jake was there. He took your hand, his thumb tracing small patterns on the back of your hand.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he repeated, his voice steady and calm. “Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. You wanted to believe him—to trust that everything would be fine—but the uncertainty still clung to you.

Moments later, the doctor entered, a friendly smile on her face as she introduced herself. She explained what would happen at this appointment in a calm, soothing tone, but you barely registered the words. Your mind was too busy spinning with possibilities. Would there be a heartbeat? Would everything look normal?

The doctor dimmed the lights and began preparing the ultrasound machine. Your breath hitched as she spread the cool gel across your abdomen, and you instinctively squeezed Jake’s hand a little tighter. His other hand moved to brush a stray hair from your forehead, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You ready?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake leaned closer, his forehead almost touching yours. “No matter what, we’ll figure it out. You’re not in this alone.”

His words gave you just the slightest bit of comfort, enough to make you nod as Dr. Bennett pressed the probe gently against your belly. The room went silent for a moment, the sound of the machine whirring softly in the background as the image on the screen flickered to life.

And then you heard it.

A soft, rhythmic thump. Steady and strong.

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. There it was. The heartbeat. Your baby’s heartbeat.

“There we go,” the doctor said with a smile, her eyes focused on the screen. “Everything looks good so far. Strong heartbeat.”

You stared at the monitor, unable to tear your eyes away from the little flicker of life that appeared on the screen. Your baby. It was so small, just a tiny blip, but it was there. Real. Alive.

Jake’s hand tightened around yours, and when you looked over at him, you saw the same awe mirrored in his expression. His eyes were fixed on the screen, his usual confident, laid-back demeanor replaced by something softer—something you had never seen before.

His lips parted slightly as if he was about to say something, but no words came out. He was just as overwhelmed as you were.

Tears pricked at your eyes, the emotion of it all finally hitting you. You hadn’t realized how much you’d been holding in until this moment—until you saw the heartbeat, heard that steady rhythm, and knew that everything was okay.

Jake finally spoke, his voice quiet but filled with awe. “That’s… that’s our baby.”

You nodded, too choked up to speak, the tears spilling over. Jake’s hand moved from yours to gently brush them away, his touch tender and reassuring.

“Hey,” he whispered, leaning in closer. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

You nodded again, but this time it wasn’t out of fear or doubt. It was because you finally believed it. Everything was going to be okay.

The doctor smiled warmly, snapping a few images for you to take home before wiping the gel off your stomach. “You’re measuring right on track. I’ll see you again in four weeks, but everything looks great.”

As she left the room, Jake turned to you, his eyes still wide with disbelief but now filled with a quiet kind of joy. “That was… I don’t even know how to describe it.”

“I know,” you whispered, your heart still racing from the rush of emotions. “I can’t believe it either.”

He reached out, gently placing a hand on your stomach, where the gel had just been wiped away. His touch was soft, reverent, as if he was afraid to press too hard. “We’re really doing this, huh?”

You covered his hand with yours, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “Yeah,” you said, your voice full of wonder. “We really are.”

Jake smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart ache with affection. And for the first time since finding out, you felt the panic slip away. You were scared, yes—but with Jake by your side, you knew you could handle whatever came next.

Together.

* * * * *

You stood in front of the mirror, towel wrapped loosely around your body as you brushed your hair, your reflection catching your eye more than usual. Something had changed. It was subtle—barely noticeable unless you really looked—but it was there. The soft curve of your belly, just below the towel line, had begun to take shape.

You placed your hand on it, fingers tracing the gentle swell. It felt strange, unfamiliar, and yet… there was something deeply comforting about it. A quiet reminder of the life growing inside you, inching its way into the world.

Jake was in the other room, probably scrolling through his phone or flipping channels, oblivious to the tiny moment of realization you were having. The baby bump hadn’t fully registered with you yet either, but standing here, in the soft morning light filtering through the bathroom window of his place, you couldn’t deny it. Your body was changing. The bump was there.

Part of you wanted to hide it for a little longer, to savor this secret for yourself. But a bigger part—one that was filled with excitement and curiosity—wanted to share it with Jake. To see the look on his face when he realized just how real this was becoming.

After drying off and slipping into one of Jake’s old t-shirts, you wandered into his bedroom where he was sprawled on the bed, head propped on one hand as he absentmindedly flicked through a football game.

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a small smile tugging at your lips as you watched him. He didn’t even notice you at first, too engrossed in the game. But eventually, he must have sensed your gaze, because he turned his head, his eyes finding yours instantly.

“Hey,” he said, grinning lazily. “What’s up?”

You hesitated for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip before you took a deep breath and stepped closer to the bed. “I… I want to show you something.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the bed, his curiosity piqued. “What is it?”

Your heart fluttered with nerves, but you moved to stand in front of him, the oversized t-shirt hanging loosely on your frame. You took another breath, then lifted the hem of the shirt just enough to reveal the small, gentle swell of your belly.

Jake’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened, his breath catching as he stared at the bump, the soft curve that hadn’t been there before. For a moment, he didn’t say anything—he just looked, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. Not just any smile—one of those rare, breathtaking smiles that lit up his whole face, eyes crinkling at the corners, as if he’d just discovered something truly magical.

“Is that…?” he started, his voice soft with awe, before trailing off. He reached out, his hand hovering near your belly like he was asking permission.

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat.

His hand made contact, fingers splayed gently over the bump, as if he was afraid to press too hard. He rubbed his thumb lightly against your skin, tracing the small curve with a mixture of wonder and joy. It was like he couldn’t get enough of the moment—couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that this was real.

“That’s… that’s our baby.”

You smiled, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked down at him, his expression so full of love it made your heart ache. “Yeah,” you whispered back. “I'm starting to show.”

Jake shook his head slightly, still in awe, his hand moving slowly over the bump like he was trying to memorize the feel of it. “I can’t believe it,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving your stomach. “I mean… I know we’ve been talking about it, but seeing this—it’s real, isn’t it?”

You nodded, feeling the same mix of disbelief and excitement swirling inside you. “Yeah,” you said softly. “It’s real.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes shining with emotion. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Even more beautiful than before.”

A warm flush spread across your cheeks at his words, but before you could respond, Jake stood up, pulling you gently into his arms. His hands settled on your waist, his thumbs brushing the bump as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I can’t believe I missed this,” he said with a small laugh, his lips still close to your skin. “How long have you noticed?”

You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest as you let out a quiet laugh. “Not long,” you admitted. “I only really noticed today.”

Jake pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you. “Well, I’m glad you showed me,” he said, his smile still lighting up his face. “I don’t want to miss any of this. Not a single second.”

You reached up, cupping his cheek with your hand, your thumb brushing over his stubbled jaw. “You won’t,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “We’re in this together, remember?”

He nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips—soft and sweet, filled with all the emotions neither of you could quite put into words.

As the kiss ended, Jake’s hands found their way back to your belly, his fingers brushing over the bump again. He looked down, his face full of wonder as if he still couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“This is crazy,” he murmured with a small chuckle, shaking his head. “But it’s also… amazing.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for him. “Yeah,” you said softly. “It really is.”

Jake wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you close, and for the first time, the two of you just stood there, holding each other, feeling the tiny life growing between you. It was a quiet, beautiful moment—a shared realization that everything was changing, but in the best way possible.

* * * * *

The soft hum of the ultrasound machine filled the small exam room as you lay back on the table, Jake seated beside you, his hand tightly holding yours. The lights were dim, and the air was thick with a mix of nerves and anticipation. You weren’t sure if it was the faint chill of the gel the technician had spread across your belly or the fact that in just a few minutes, everything would feel a little more real.

Jake squeezed your hand, his thumb rubbing small circles into your palm, silently telling you that he was right there with you, just as anxious and excited as you were. You turned your head to look at him, catching the faintest hint of a smile on his face, though his eyes were glued to the monitor in front of you.

“Alright, let’s take a look,” the technician said, her voice calm and friendly as she moved the ultrasound wand over your belly. The screen flickered with shapes and shadows, the sound of the baby’s heartbeat filling the room, a rhythmic thud that made your own heart skip a beat.

Jake’s grip on your hand tightened slightly as both of you stared at the screen, trying to make sense of the images. The technician moved the wand slowly, explaining the different parts—the baby’s head, arms, legs. But the moment you’d both been waiting for was still ahead.

“Are you ready to find out?” the technician asked, her eyes flicking between the two of you.

You nodded, biting your lip, a nervous excitement bubbling up inside you. Jake leaned closer, his eyes wide with anticipation.

The technician smiled, and with a small movement of the wand, she pointed at the screen. “Congratulations,” she said softly. “You’re having a baby boy.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, sinking in. A boy. You felt Jake’s hand tense, then relax as a slow grin spread across his face. He glanced at you, his eyes shining with pure, unfiltered joy.

“A boy,” he murmured, the words barely audible, as if he was saying them more to himself than to you.

You smiled back at him, your heart full. “Yeah,” you whispered. “A boy.”

Jake let out a small laugh, his free hand moving to rest on your belly, his thumb brushing over the slight bump. “A little man,” he said, his voice filled with wonder. “I can’t believe it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the relief and excitement finally washing over you. Everything felt a little more real now, a little more tangible. You had a son—a baby boy who was going to turn your entire world upside down in the best possible way.

After a few more minutes of watching the baby wiggle on the screen, the technician handed you some printed images from the scan, and soon you and Jake were heading out of the clinic, stepping into the cool air of the parking lot.

The ride home was quiet at first, the two of you still processing the news. Jake’s hand rested on your thigh as he drove, the soft buzz of the radio playing in the background. You glanced over at him, noticing how he was still grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

“You’re really excited, huh?” you teased, though the warmth in your voice gave away just how much you loved seeing him this happy.

Jake glanced at you, his smile widening. “Hell yeah, I’m excited. We’re having a boy. That’s… that’s huge.”

You nodded, feeling the same excitement bubbling up again. “I know. It’s crazy.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, but you could feel Jake thinking, his mind already racing ahead. And then, almost predictably, he asked the question you’d been waiting for.

“So,” he started, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity, “have you thought about any names?”

You let out a small laugh, turning to look at him. “Of course I’ve thought about names,” you said. “I’ve been scrolling through Pinterest boards for weeks now. I’ve got a whole list.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “Oh yeah? Let’s hear ‘em.”

You pulled your phone out, scrolling through your saved baby names. “Okay, well… I’ve always liked the name ‘Caleb.’ It’s kind of classic but not too common, you know?”

Jake nodded thoughtfully. “Caleb’s nice. What else you got?”

“Uh, let’s see… there’s ‘Wyatt,’ ‘Eli,’ and ‘Noah,’” you said, rattling off a few more names you’d saved.

Jake seemed to consider them for a moment, but then he let out a soft chuckle. “Those are good,” he said, his tone warm. “But, uh, I was kind of thinking about something more… I don’t know, meaningful? Maybe a family name.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious now. “A family name?”

Jake nodded, glancing at you again. “Yeah, like… well, my granddad’s name was ‘Jameson.’ I always thought that was a strong name. And my dad’s middle name was ‘Robert.’”

“Jameson Robert,” you repeated, testing it out. “That’s pretty solid.”

Jake smiled, clearly pleased. “Right? It sounds like a name you could grow into. A name with some weight behind it.”

You couldn’t help but grin at how serious he sounded. It was clear Jake had already been thinking about this—probably long before today. “I like it,” you said. “But we don’t have to decide right now. We’ve still got time to figure it out.”

Jake nodded, his hand giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, you’re right. I just… I don’t know, I kind of like the idea of carrying on some of the family names. But I’m open to anything.”

You smiled, leaning back in your seat as you watched the landscape pass by outside the window. “We’ll figure it out together,” you said softly. “Besides, we’ve still got a few months to pick the perfect name.”

Jake chuckled, glancing at you with that easy, warm smile of his. “Yeah,” he said. “But I’m calling it now—he’s gonna be a little Jameson.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “We’ll see about that.”

The rest of the drive home was filled with easy conversation, tossing baby names back and forth and laughing about which ones definitely didn’t make the cut. You felt lighter than you had in weeks, the excitement of the day settling into something quieter, something deeper.

By the time you pulled into the driveway, the two of you hadn’t landed on a final name, but it didn’t matter. You still had time. What mattered was that you were in this together—building a family, one moment at a time.

* * * * *

You stood in the small bedroom of your apartment, surveying the space that had felt cozy just a few months ago but now seemed increasingly cramped with the realization that a baby was on the way. Jake was pacing the floor, tossing around ideas for rearranging the furniture, while you tried to mentally picture how everything could fit.

“What if we move the dresser to the other side?” Jake suggested, pointing toward the corner where a floor lamp barely fit. “Then we could push the bed over, and maybe…” He paused, considering the layout again. “I don’t know, it just feels tight in here.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, it’s going to be a challenge. I wasn’t exactly planning on having a baby when I moved in here.”

Jake leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, and looked at you with a thoughtful expression. “You know,” he said slowly, “I was thinking… maybe you could just move into my place.”

You blinked, surprised by the suggestion. “Your place? But we’ve only been together a few months, and now with everything that’s happened…” Your voice trailed off as you considered the implications.

He straightened up, stepping closer. “I mean it. My place has two bedrooms. We can easily turn one into a nursery, and I want you and the baby close to me. We could be a family.”

The warmth in his voice sent a flutter through your chest. You searched his eyes for any hint of hesitation, but all you saw was sincerity. “Are you sure? This is a big step. We haven’t even been together a year yet.”

Jake nodded firmly, the look in his eyes unwavering. “I know it’s fast, but I want to do this together. I want you both with me. I don’t want to miss a moment once he gets here.”

Your heart swelled at his words, a mix of excitement and anxiety flooding you. “It’s just… a lot to think about.”

He reached out, pulling you into a warm embrace. “I get it, but we’ll figure it out together. You’re not alone in this. We can make it work.”

As you melted into his arms, you felt the weight of your worries begin to lift. The idea of moving in with Jake was both daunting and exhilarating, but deep down, you knew he was right. It would be good for all of you.

Pulling back slightly, you looked into his eyes, your smile growing. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Jake’s face broke into a wide grin, and he lifted you off the ground in excitement. “Really? You mean it?”

You nodded, laughing as he set you back down. “Yeah, I mean it. I’m just as scared as I am excited, but I want this. I want us to be a family, and I want us to be together.”

Jake’s smile softened, and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Then it’s settled. Let’s make it happen.”

You felt a rush of happiness as you both embraced again, knowing that despite the challenges ahead, you had each other. You could build a home together, and soon enough, you’d be welcoming your little one into the world.

* * * * *

The day had stretched into what felt like an eternity, filled with anticipation, exhaustion, and a whirlwind of emotions. You lay in the hospital bed, beads of sweat on your forehead, clutching Jake’s hand tightly. He was your anchor, whispering words of encouragement and squeezing your fingers every time a contraction rolled through you.

“You’re doing amazing, babe,” he said softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. His voice was a calming presence amid the chaos, and every time you met his gaze, you felt a surge of strength.

Hours passed, and the pain became almost unbearable, but you pressed on, motivated by the thought of finally holding your baby in your arms. You could feel the excitement in the room as the medical staff prepared for the final moments. Jake stayed right by your side, never leaving you, his eyes filled with concern and love.

Finally, with one last push, the cries of your baby filled the room, piercing through the haze of pain and exhaustion. Your heart raced as you heard that precious sound, a mixture of relief and joy flooding through you. The nurses gently placed the tiny bundle on your chest, and you looked down, tears brimming in your eyes.

There he was—your son. His little face, scrunched up and wailing, filled you with a warmth you had never known. You glanced up at Jake, who was beaming, his eyes wide with wonder as he took in the sight of his son for the first time.

Jake leaned in closer, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “You did it,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “He’s perfect.”

You smiled through your tears, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and pride. “Look at him,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “He’s ours.”

Jake nodded, his eyes glistening as he gazed at the two of you. “We’re a family now.”

In that moment, nothing else mattered. The pain of labor faded into the background, replaced by an all-consuming love for this tiny human that you had created together. You felt Jake’s hand wrap around yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as he leaned in to share the joy of this incredible moment.

As you cradled your son against your chest, the world around you fell silent. It was just you, Jake, and your beautiful baby boy, the three of you beginning this new chapter together.

[arrenkae]

Obviously after 3 whole games, it becomes increasingly difficult to track all the possible player choices. It's understandable to trim them down. It's understandable that in a story set 10 years later, in a different part of Thedas, most of them won't have a significant, or even noticeable impact of the story.

But what is so wild to me is the idea that it's better to give us nothing than "small cameos and one liners" like what the fuck are you talking about

Cameos, one liners and small codex entries were the best way to give nods to the previous choices without putting too much effort into it and making wildly divergent world states and it made the dragon age world feel so much more alive and "yours"

Suuure sometimes people wished there were more to some of their choices but we all understand that sometimes it's asking for the impossible. It was still better than FUCKING NOTHING

I was so happy hearing Morrigan talking about my warden and how he is a good father and how happy they are together

"None of this should matter, it's Rook's story" sorry this is bullshit? You are bringing back Morrigan, you are bringing back Varric, there are several characters we could realistically meet in Tevinter, we are going to fucking Weisshaupt

This is absolute bullshit and the fact that they were hiding it up until now speaks volumes

[fortheloveoffanfic]

What if this is the last time I see you?

Hozier x fem!reader

Author's note: I'm sorry that I haven't finished one angsty story before forcing another onto you. But this one is shorter, I promise.

Summary: A chance run-in between exes at the farmers market leaves Andrew wondering if he’ll be okay never seeing Y/n again. Part 1 of 2.

Warnings: ANGST

At first, Andrew thinks his eyes must be playing tricks on him. But the longer he stares, the more it makes sense – and the more it makes sense, the more he is convinced. A pop-up farmers market, a fruit vendor selling an assortment of brightly coloured, sure-to-be sweet, freshly picked fruit. Or so he says.

She’s wearing a jacket that he swears he’s seen before, but it could’ve very well been on a mannequin in a store front and not in her closet – or on her body.

But he’s certain that its her. She’s carrying the basket in a way that’s all too familiar. She’s looking at strawberries and those are her favorite in the summer. It must be her.

So it must be divine intervention that he drove past the farmers market and decided to stop, because Andrew usually gets his produce at the grocery store, on the occasion that he’s home for long enough to do his own shopping.

Setting down the bright, glossy apple he’d been holding onto for a criminally long period, he inches towards her little section of the booth, debating what he should say. ‘Hi’ doesn’t feel like enough, but he fears that if he takes a chance with anything more he might stomp all over their impromptu reunion. He doesn’t want to be too much;

What a funny thought, he thinks. Considering the whole reason for their end was because he wasn’t enough.

Well, that might be a bit of an unfair distribution of blame. He’s pretty good at playing the victim where the demise of their relationship is concerned.

By the time he reaches her, Y/n has already placed a few strawberries into a plastic baggie and is looking for a few more to round off her purchase. And he settles on the very measly and shamefully uneventful; “hey.”

Surprised, Y/n jumps slightly and twists to face him, eyes going wide. “Andy, oh my gosh, hey.” She hesitates for a moment before reaching out for a hug that becomes quite a clumsy endeavor. They don’t seem to know each other as well as they used to; he can’t tell if she’s reaching for his neck or midsection, so their limbs get tangled in a strange manner. “Sorry,” she mumbles bashfully when the whole thing goes on for longer than any ‘I haven’t seen you in five years’ hug should take.

Shrugging off the unwarranted apology, Andrew stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans in an effort to keep himself from touching her again. “How have you been?” He tries to sound nonchalant, but his gaze drips to her left hand, looking for any sign of a ring. And when there isn’t one, he feels a knot in his chest loosen a little.

“I’ve been….” Y/n trails off, as if the question is the hardest one she’s been asked in a while. In some ways, she supposes it is. Is she supposed to lie to Andrew? Tell him she’s fine and happy and her life is going fantastically well when the truth is she hasn’t been able to scrub the memory of him from her mind and she still buys his favorite brand of tea because when it brews, the smell makes her house feel a little more like home. “I’ve been alright,” its something between the truth and any lie she can tell; she is alright. Alive and healthy, if only a little sad sometimes – but who isn’t, right? “You?”

Andrew fumbles with his words, he’s not sure why but the question feels almost taunting. Why would she throw that back to him? Why wouldn’t she just assume that she’s stowed the best of him into a box and taken it along with her? Everyone else sees it, they tell him he hasn’t looked the same since she left, that he talks differently and he’s truly a little depressing to be around sometimes. “I’m…..okay.” Just okay – not good, not bad, but somewhere in limbo, surviving.

At his response, Y/n nods absently. God, he wishes he knew what that meant. He wishes he still knew her well enough to know what anything she does means. There used to be things that only he understood about Y/n. There’s a version of her in his mind that still whispers in the dark, even if they’re the only people in the room, and ensures all the cutlery in the drawer is packed in the same direction. There’s a version of her that might have tilted her head at his response, and told him that she knows that ‘okay’ is never just ‘okay.’

But this is someone else, someone he doesn’t know. But he loves her anyway.

He’ll love every version of her. But at least he’s only lost one.

“You’re probably the last person I’d expect to run into, here especially,” but maybe she doesn’t really know him that well anymore. Maybe he goes to the farmer’s market every Sunday now and they’ve just been missing each other.

Maybe he goes with his girlfriend - a wife even -and right now she's at another vendor. She's going to be back soon. And she'll be beautiful and Y/n will think; no wonder he let me go so easily, because he knew there was better was out there.

Shaking off the unsettling thought, Y/n adds, “you used to get everything at the grocery store.”

“You used to grow everything yourself,” he notes, not maliciously though. It's really just an innocent observation; he wonders why she stopped.

“I guess…..we’ve changed,” Y/n muses, and a little sliver of her wonders if they’ve changed enough to make it work for a second time around.

“Not too much, I hope,” but what he really means to say is; ‘I hope we’re still the kind of people that can love each other.’ “Ehm,” he clears his throat softly, and finally gathers the courage to ask what he’d been thinking about since he discreetly examined her finger, “seeing anyone?”

What a question! Simultaneously, it makes her want to laugh and cry. “Not right now, no.” Of course, she’s seen other people since their break-up, but nothing ever sticks, and that might be because every man is now measured to Andrew; does it taste the same when they kiss her? Hold her hand the way he used to? Do they tell the same sort of jokes or thread their fingers through her hair before falling asleep? “What about you?”

Andrew waves his hand dismissively, “no one serious,” there isn't really anyone at all, but he doesn’t want to seem like he’s a complete wreck and one more white lie can’t hurt.

“Good,” the word slips out almost without thought, and Y/n quickly shakes her head when Andrew arches a brow. He isn't supposed to know that she's relieved; that he just quashed one of her biggest fears - that there's another woman that knows him as well as she does, but couldn't love him half as much, “well....not good. Just you know….you’re good at being on your own,” he was pretty damn good on his own even when they lived in the same house, “so I’m sure you’re doing good,” god, she wishes she had stopped talking three minutes ago.

Hesitating, he bites his tongue as the urge to tell her that he's not okay and it's all her fault wells up. Didn’t she see the lie in his eyes when he said he was okay? Is he that much of a stranger to her now?

Again, Andrew shrugs halfheartedly, “I’ve been okay,” he repeats before pressing his lips into a thin line. He doesn’t trust himself to add anything more, because then he’ll say he still misses her and its been far too long for him to still be mourning an empty side of the bed and the sound of her laughter in the drawing room.

He shouldn’t still go into his home studio and still expect her to come trailing after him, armed with a book with the intention of curling up on the sofa that gets just the right amount of noon sun. He shouldn't miss the way she looks while humming along softly to what he's working on, blanket draped on her folded legs, hazy light washing her face - he shouldn’t have left her blanket there after all this time.

He shouldn’t even be thinking about it, because the more he does, the more he wants to tell her. Beg Y/n to come back – to take him back because he’s really only half himself without her.

“I should let you –”

“You probably have –”

“Sorry.” Another clumsy, awkward apology, this one in aching unison. There’s silence for a while, and Y/n tugs her lower lip between her teeth. In a way, it feels like they’ve been standing there for too long, at least, like this. Not knowing what to say to each other, with the nails of her free hand digging into her palm so she doesn’t reach out to touch his arm. It shouldn’t be like this, she never wanted them to come to this; reduced to two awfully familiar strangers. “I should um….I have to….go…” She goes to say home, but the word doesn’t come, “I gotta go, Andrew.”

Swallowing the lump that’s been caught in his throat since he first saw fifteen minutes earlier, Andrew nods stiffly. “Of course,” he breathes. The last thing he wants is for her to leave, but he doesn’t really have any right to keep her. “I’ll leave you to it.” They both nod that time, shy and unsure but no one leaves. Not immediately. His eyes stay matching hers, and there’s a hundred things weighing down the tip of his tongue, but clinging to it like molten sugar.

I'm sorry I let you walk out, I'm sorry about everything. I still keep your ring in my nightstand, just in case. My mom still asks about you. I should've been better, let you in and I know that now. I'd do it now. I'm actually horrible on my own now, because you've ruined me in the best way - and the worst. But he doesn't say any of it; the moment is long gone and his pride does a pretty good job at keeping him quiet.

A shuddered breath escapes her lips upon realizing that she actually hasn’t moved an inch; Y/n doesn’t think she can be the one to bring herself to leave this time. She doesn't want to turn her back to him again. So she lingers, and she swears roots are sprouting from the soles of her feet, keeping her in place, staring into his eyes because lost in them is suddenly the only place she wants to be.

“I should go,” he eventually determines, glancing away. Though, the minute he says it, Andrew is lashed with immediate regret; he does not want to go. He doesn’t want to leave, but he suspects that this time its entirely on him to turn around and walk away.

“Right, right,” Y/n blinks quickly, then, just as he’s about to turn, she interjects, if only for the purpose of holding him there a little longer, “it was really nice seeing you.”

He nods, but doesn’t say anything, not right then. Though, when he turns away and starts retreating to the other end of the small tent, squinting his eyes at the midday sun, catching him square in the face, he pauses. Throwing a cautious backwards glance her way, he finds that Y/n has returned to picking out strawberries and on a whim, Andrew finally allows himself a singular moment of weakness – perhaps in a way of giving her what she’s wanted since their very last fight. “I’ve missed you,” he utters.

Y/n’s head snaps up just as she hands the bag over to the vendor for weighting, “what?” Her brows are furrowed and her lips are slightly agape.

Hating the sudden vulnerability that comes with those three little words, he shakes his head, “nothing. I’ll see you around,” he spares her a short wave, and she does the same.

After that, not a single word is traded between them again; Y/n pays, plops the bag into her basket, and walks off, and he watches her go. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest as she weaves her way through the busy market, and there’s a strange sort of finality in the moment where the last inkling of her green jacket disappears.

What if he never sees her again? What if that moment, in that tent, surrounded by fruits honeyed by summer’s warmth and the bitter heartache of something unfinished, constitutes the last fifteen minutes they will ever share?

What if she’s gone from his life forever and he’s damned to an eternity spent looking at her pictures and never hearing her voice again? Wondering what she’s doing and if she’s finally moved on from him?

Can he survive it? Truly? Without feeling like a shell just being shuffled around by the wind?

Returning to the assortment of ruby-toned apples, he struggles to escape the onslaught in his mind and Andrew finds himself unable to choose any, not even one, so he goes with strawberries instead.

To be continued.....

[madreemeritus]

Guys have I ever commented about how both Youtube and Tiktok have the shittiest takes on Stolas? No? Then I will try to comment more often.

"I wonder why Octavia is mean to Stolas" because she's a teenager who doesn't know the truth about her parents' situation or the abuse her father went throught during 17+ years, that's why.

As Stolas antis are unable to recognize the MOST BASIC aspects of the story, let me just remind everything we know about Stolas and his relationship with his family:

(TW: MARITAL RAPE, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND HAVING TO EDUCATE STOLAS ANTIS FOR THE 100TH TIME)

1- emotionally and physically abused by his father

2- forced to marry an abusive person when he was a fucking child

3- raped multiple times by Stella before she got pregnant

4- TEEN FATHER. TEEN. FATHER. You know what a TEEN FATHER means? He was forced to be a father when he. was. A. TEEN.

5- spent 17 years surviving his wife's verbal, emotional and physical abuse FOR HIS DAUGTHER'S SAKE

6- took accountability when he realized his mistakes towards his daughter, and his mistakes were basically trying his best to make his daughter happy while being a literal survivor of parental abuse, domestic violence, SA and social isolation, literally a fucking normal human being trying his best and improving himself

7- is not only teaching her spells slowly and respecting her time, but also raising her as the teenager girl she is, and not as a 'legal adult' full of rich folk bullshit responsabilities as he was raised

"Stolas is a good dad" yes, media illiterate antis, he IS. He raised his daughter with love and care, he shield her from potential dangers (which came from her own mother), took accountability everytime he made a mistake with her, and sacrificed 17+ years in silence, surviving domestic violence, FOR HER. This is what a good parent does; loves, takes accountability and cares for their child, and as someone who has a very shitty dad who actually doesn't respect me or take accountability, I proudly affirm Stolas is doing great. You know what STELLA, an actual terrible parent, does? Abuses her husband in front of their kid and turns Via against her father. This is what a terrible parent does, oh but sorry I forgot she's the cisheteronormative woman who can do no wrong despite doing everything wrong maliciously.

Octavia acting like a teenager is absolutely in-character and justified. She doesn't have to know that her mother is an abuser, and this is why Stolas shield her from this hell, because he wanted her to have a normal fucking life. But the AUDIENCE? Grown adults who KNOW what is happening with Stolas and should understand how basic parenting works, acting like an angry teenager who hates Dada? Now that is just bad faith and urge to justify your hate boner against Stolas with the same stupid outdated arguments that were discussed a thousand times in this fandom.

For a man that was forced to have an abusive wife and a child at his teenage years, yes, he is a good father. He makes normal mistakes like any normal parent does. In LooLoo Land, he (unintentionally) ignored Via's discomfort because he was trying to cheer her up, trying to, as himself said, keep her away from their hostile house — whose hostility is Stella's fault. In Seeing Stars, he DOES NOT ignore Via nor forgot about the promise (he forgot the day, not the promise), he was busy standing up against his ABUSER. He asked for some minutes to finish his phone call, if Via had waited just a little bit longer, he would turn off the phone and listened to her. She didn't, because she's a kid with the trauma of growing up with an abusive mother and a closeted dad, again, in-character and understanding. But grown adults who were supposed to understand what is going on with Stolas having the same behaviour of a kid is hilariously telling a lot about how you react to this show.

Stolas makes the same mistakes Blitzø makes with Loona. Blitzø often infantilizes her to the point of being overprotective, and guess what? He also took accountability, because he, just like Stolas, is a good dad. And just like Lucifer as well. Buuuuut you don't really care about what is or what isnt a good father, you just want to yell about how much you hate Stolas. And the reason why you hate Stolas (at least one of the reasons) is because you can't understand basic shit about him.

Edit: by the way, let me show yall this print. It's so adorable. As irritating as Stolas's "sLaNdErInG" crowd is, the fandom always manage to make everything better. Let's smile more and think about the good things <3

[barrenclan]

I really like stories that focus on a "normal person" in a fantastic setting, and pinepaw aplies even with the oracle powers.

There was nothing he could do to save his clan, and the "happy ending" for him would be to live a fulfilling life somewhere away from the crazy murder deer.

Deepdark is "the big bad" of the story, and he should be stopped. But pinepaw isn't gonna do that, he can't, dude is like 10 times his size. His life was spared on a whim and all he can do is live and try to rebuild.

It's even better because even in-universe Deepdark isn't a "big deal". He's a cult leader/mafia boss, even without involving humans he could easily lose a fight and die. At best he'll die of old age and either someone will take his place as leader or Defiance will break apart from in-fighting.

A lot of this story is about struggling with the lack of control you have, and trying to control others. And that in the end, I suppose, we all die just the same.

Just you wait, you're going to get an even more explicit Holes reference in the future.

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Dark Moon | EXTRA 01 | Monster

Pairing | yandere!gangster!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 3,9k

Warnings | +18, yandere themes, knife wound, memories of past trauma and abuse, references to an attempted murder and escape attempt (present in the main story), Stockholm syndrome, guilt, Hoseok loves to psychologically torture MC, references to MC's traumatic past (hard yandere Jimin) and her love-filled present (soft yandere Jimin) that MC calls before and after, smut (fingering, wet kisses, nipple sucking), non-sexual choking attempt, fear and anxiety, this is not for minors.

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | You thought the worst was over, but the dark shadows are denser than you thought.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys!

After receiving many comments asking for an extra chapter for Dark Moon, I decided to write one, I hope you enjoy this glimpse of how things turned out later, thanks for loving Dark Moon 🥹❤️

Taglist: @katherine-kookie @btsuga-d @dragons-flare @takemeaway5402 @m00njinnie @seokjins-luigi @pjmsneverland @ajkwww @jimincrystal @ungodlyjoon @hecateslittlewitchling @namjoonsbuspass @darkuni63 @xicanacorpse @jiminismine4ever @btssimplove @antisocial-mochi267 @reallygenerouskoala @velvet-stardust2002 @angelicsmileworld @dabishou @ke1k029 @lennieharper @pantara @superrsstaargirrl13

➢ Main Story

➢ Happy Ending Series

➢ Side Note | The first two stories - Happy Ending and Dark Moon - were written in the third person, which had been my style for a long time. However, I’ve recently started writing all my new stories in the second person, as I find it much more immersive and enjoyable. As a result, the new stories in this series will continue in the second person. Thank you for reading this far ❤️

Jimin's return from a mission is announced by many heavy footsteps, some even shuffling, you hear excited whispers and words left unsaid.

You jerk open your eyes, your blurred vision in the dark making you dizzy, but that is not the reason for your nausea.

Jimin.

You jump up with your heart in your throat, it's not unusual for him to come home late from work, it's the other agitated voices that startle you. Something has definitely happened that has alerted the others as well.

You quickly grab your robe and tie it in a tight knot at the waist, you don't even bother to put on shoes, when you lower the handle the click resonates like a gunshot and a shiver runs down your spine, you will never get used to that kind of life, even though Jimin has become your whole world, and as a result his life is yours too.

You move your feet toward the living room, where surely everyone else is gathered, and you bring back an unruly lock of hair, tongues of fire sway sinuously throughout the hallway, someone has lit the fireplace, a sign of a long night they will spend here.

“Squeeze this, man,” you hear someone say, you recognize him as Jungkook and frown, "It's going to hurt, but you know the drill by now," he continues and your heart misses a beat.

When you reach the living room and the heat of the fire invests you, two heads turn in your direction, you simply feel the ground missing from under your feet.

You see Jimin, lying on the couch, pale under the mop of once again black, blood-stained hair; you don't know if it's his, but the one on his uncovered side that Jungkook is taking care to stitch up with needle and thread definitely belongs to him.

“What happened?” you simply manage to ask with a choked edge to your voice, rocking on jelly legs before collapsing at your husband's side, who clutches a leather glove between his teeth to suppress the pain.

The man weakly lifts his eyelids in your direction, two shiny black pools look at you affectionately and with weary hand tries to caress your face, you immediately clasp your fingers to his, they are cold you find yourself noticing and this startles you.

You glance at the wound, it is just below the ribs and Jungkook's quick hands move the needle expertly, there is ice wrapped in a cloth abandoned on the couch, perhaps to try to make the area around the wound less sensitive, you also notice a bottle of disinfectant and some gauze.

Jimin winces all the same, clenching the glove between his teeth so as not to show you his pain, not out of shame, but because he doesn't want to worry you further.

Your mind involuntarily goes to that day.

The day you hurt him trying to escape, those are hard memories to swallow, you don't like to remember the before, but how can you not think back when you have the same scenario before your eyes?

“I'm fine,” hisses Jimin fulminating Jungkook when he presses the tip of the needle a little too hard, ”It's superficial.”

“One more inch and we could have run to the hospital, though,” mutters the third man's voice, you try to ignore his disturbing presence.

It was not difficult to bond with all the members of Jimin's family, all except him.

Hoseok never showed any interest in being your friend, and you always mentally thanked him for that. Since that time at the Dark Moon, you have had no direct contact with him and you are more than okay with that, he is a real monster. You can see it in his eyes, the evil that he harbors and is not ashamed to let it out whenever he can.

That day, you would have died by his hand if Jimin had not gotten in the way, despite the wounds he had. You owe everything to Jimin you think, kissing his sweat-soaked forehead softly. The boy closes his eyes at the pleasant warmth of your lips against his smooth skin.

“You're not well, Jimin,” you whisper in his ear, Jimin's eyelashes flicker a little, you can see the shadow of a smile amid the pain.

“You're always so anxious, my love,” he chuckles with difficulty, in response you inhale into his dark hair his masculine fragrance, mixed with gunpowder and blood, “I'll survive, as always.”

How many more times must you wake up with your heart in your throat, with Jimin wounded and lying on the couch sweating and bleeding. The only thing sweet about that image is the bold smile he gives you every single time.

“And you always try to downplay everything,” you say bitterly, kissing him on the lips.

Jungkook looks at you out of the corner of his eye without saying anything, but he is clearly more relaxed now that you are there to look after Jimin, Hoseok on the other hand snorts.

“You women are so complicated,” there is boredom in his tone, it irritates you but you tighten your lips into a thin line to ignore him, ”Even though you were more like us that time than you want to admit, remember?”

The reference to that day freezes you, you widen your eyes and lift them to his.

His hair is no longer as red as blood, now it is as black as his soul, but his sadism is still there. He loves to hurt physically, but he doesn't disdain psychological hurt. Especially if it is to hit you, after all, resentment is his best friend and he never considered you part of his family.

Jimin's eyes go wide, the black has stopped sparkling, the sweetness has been replaced by anger.

“Shut the fuck up, Hoseok,” he hisses with a latent snarl. He is hurt, but that doesn't mean he will allow Hoseok to disrespect you, ”She is not to blame!”

He always says that, but is that really the case?

“Or what?” the other challenges him, leaning against the back of the sofa.

“Please... stop,” you mutter dejectedly to both of them, agreeing - reluctantly - with Hoseok. True, you were no different from them that day. It is a guilt you will carry with you forever.

Perhaps because of your tone, perhaps because of your look, or perhaps both, Jimin vibrates with anger and disdain. He jerks up ignoring your arms trying to pick him back up, managing to grab Hoseok by the collar of his black leather jacket, landing a punch right on his mouth that he dared to say too much to his wife, this set of movements blowing out a few stitches, making Jungkook growl in frustration.

“That's really enough now!” Jungkook has never been a go-between, he has always reasoned with physical force, and it doesn't even take a moment to force Jimin back to his seat, weak as he is, and push Hoseok away with an irritated shove, “You've both pissed me off.”

Hoseok rubs his split lips, blood smears his black gloves - the same kind of gloves Jimin had on the night he caught you - his teeth have torn flesh as a result of Jimin's punch, but he doesn't seem to show resentment.

He knows he has gone too far. Even if he doesn't regret it.

He also seems at times amused at his friend's reaction, love is a feeling he does not understand, he finds it ridiculous, and he also finds Jimin and Jungkook ridiculous for getting “tamed.”

Hoseok disgusts you.

“You didn't have to react that way, we all know what he's like,” you whisper softly on your husband's lips, Jimin is breathing heavily out of anger and grief, Jungkook seems to have abandoned the path of kindness and is stitching him up carelessly, perhaps even with a hint of malice.

“I don't tolerate-” I don't tolerate  anyone disrespecting you, you block that sentence by kissing him again, losing yourself in the soft lips and sugary taste of the boy who brought you to your knees, in every sense of the word.

You block him because you don't feel you deserve all that respect, Hoseok is right.

That evil man is like a virus in your brain, he wanted to hurt you that day and for a just reason, you almost killed a member of his family, you are unforgivable and you willfully ignore the reasons that led you to such an extreme act. You remain a murderer, the man you hold in your arms now, he would not be here now if you had managed to escape without giving him help.

“Christ, I want to go home,” Jungkook whines, envious of your intimate contact, he wants to go home to his wife and spend the rest of the night with her, but he has to stitch Jimin up first and some stitches are blown out, this thought makes him nervous and that hint of malice sneers a little more.

Jimin finds himself screaming in an instant with no more glove to help him, he casts a shocked glance at Jungkook, more blood stains his quick fingers, and yet he looks innocent, as if he has not just voluntarily stuck the needle deeper than was really necessary.

“Be kind, Jungkook,” you smile at the pigtailed boy, who rolls his eyes in response, “Please.”

“At least there's someone who knows politeness in this room,” he mumbles back, Jimin snorts throwing his head back on your soft, cozy chest, you lift your gaze and pin it on Hoseok, he's looking at you with a strange smile. He knows what you're thinking.

You pull the blankets up to Jimin's chin, he is shivering with cold and that worries you. Jungkook instructed you which antibiotic to give him once a day, then closed the door behind you, careful to let Hoseok out first.

Jungkook didn't trust you to be alone with him either.

You swallow a knot that tightens your throat, you feel suffocated. You need to get some air, even though it's probably cold outside that would freeze the soul of even the devil.

“Don't do that,” you hear yourself say, turning to Jimin.

He has pulled himself up from the blankets and looks at you harshly.

“What?” you ask pretending to arrange something in a drawer, your attitude exhausting him.

“Don't think of another man,” the blackness of his eyes is darker, the jealousy is always there, ”I hate that my woman thinks of another.”

This makes you smile incredulously, “I don't think of another man, Jimin, you are my man” you clarify with your hands on your hips, you see him melt a little as a sad smile finally comes to light.

Oh.

He means to say...

“You think about the things this man says,” he points out to you, ”But it's all bullshit, stop this guilt, it's killing me.”

Tears accumulate between your eyelashes, you blink quickly to chase them away.

“But it's true, I did-I almost killed you,” your lips tremble, Jimin instantly notices.

He doesn't like to resume the before, it disturbs him. But he has to if he wants to calm you down somehow.

“And before you tried to kill me, I hurt you willingly,” he emphasizes the last word with a grimace of contempt, to himself, “I pushed you to the limit and at that moment I liked it.”

Jimin never hid his darkness, he promised to love and respect you after, but it was not so before.

It was hell, just thinking about it leaves you paralyzed, the memories of pain are suffocating. Those of the pleasure you did not accept but yearned for are even more so.

Still, you shake your head, whichever way you look at it, you feel guilty.

“You were drunk; you didn't really want to” you try to justify him.

“I was drunk because I was fucking pissed, pissed at you,” the man points out to you, now bleary-eyed.

He would never hurt you now, in the after.

Right?

“You can justify me, but not yourself?” the pain in his voice leaves you stunned and pained, the shadows of your past are dense and heavy, Hoseok wallows among them, you think angrily.

But Jimin doesn't feel the same way, the problem is not Hoseok, he knows that very well.

You two still haven't gotten over the before, that's what reinforces the pain.

“I can't accept what I did, because I was never this” you were never a monster, no need to say that, Jimin already understood, “But I acted like one, you at least do it for a living.”

The man shakes his head, “I did it out of anger, and anger led to making my hate-based reality also a job” for a moment he sees the exhausted little boy collapsing at Seokjin's feet again and accepts his offer.

He will not deny it, it was the best choice ever, even if the circumstances that led him to meet you were terrible.

But he doesn't regret his love; he could let you go, but he won't.

He is too involved with you, you are too involved with him, you are a family now, in the after.

He just wants to take that weight off your shoulders crushing you. Even though it will hurt both of you.

“Come here, babe,” he invites you, moving a hand to draw you to him.

It doesn't have to happen again, you find yourself already sitting on the bed by his side, it was instinctive, the need for him overwhelming.

“I'm sorry,” you whisper in a choked voice, truly sorry for the dark thoughts you are giving him while he is in a pitiful condition.

“Straddle me,” he says bluntly, squinting your eyes.

“But... are you crazy? Jungkook finished with the stitches not even twenty minutes ago, I could hurt you, the wound is fresh!” you protest with your chest heaving up and down rhythmically, you cannot deny that the request tickled you.

But Jimin grabs you by the hips and intimates you to do as he told you, “Ride me, Y/N” his voice sounds sensual and needy, a giddy feeling tightens in your lower belly.

You lick your lips lifting yourself up on Jimin, surround his hips with your thighs, the robe opens over them and let Jimin look at your soft skin with desire. He has stopped shaking, you notice.

Paying attention to his wound, he opens the robe over your chest as well and slowly pulls down the thin straps of your nightgown, the man's eyes darken at the seductive sight of your delicate breasts and already turgid nipples, he would have gladly spent the evening another way if a half-dead bastard hadn't stabbed him out of spite, you'd be under him crying and moaning in pleasure, instead he has to settle for that position.

But he can always make up for it somehow, right now - in your after - he thinks, closing his plump lips around a stiff, rosy tip that asked for nothing more, the sensation of his wet tongue playing with your breasts makes you hold your breath, your clitoris throbbing and your entrance moistening, already ready to receive him in all his tantalizing thickness.

A dusting of pink colors your cheeks, Jimin loves your sensitivity, you could come just like that.

Your husband licks a streak of saliva down the column of your neck, you tremble as he finally reaches your lips before imprisoning them in a fiery and lively kiss, the sensual and soft entwinement of your tongues makes your thighs wiggle against his skin, you clench his legs and Jimin lays one of his hands on your hip and thrusts toward you, you mew meekly feeling the thick tip of his cock pressing against your panty-covered entrance.

Ignoring the glowing twinges in his side, Jimin sensually moves his pelvis against your pussy, playing with the tip of tongue, which grasps and tickles yours. You could really cum exactly that way and it would still be sublime and overwhelming, but Jimin sneaks his other hand inside your panties and puts some pressure with one finger on your swollen, taut clit, circles around it mischievously and then presses again, making it throb repeatedly and to his liking.

You are forced to separate from his wonderful mouth to catch your breath, narrowing your eyes at the bite he leaves on your neck, before gently sucking on the same spot. You don't doubt that there will be a bruise when you wake up, but it's a pain so pleasurable that your juices flows from your slit shamefully, you know it when you lower your eyes and notice the wet spot spreading across his pajama pants, at the height of his cock that continues to rock against you.

He continues to seduce you with his mouth until the first contractions of orgasm leave you breathless.

“Oh God... Jimin... I'm close,” you whisper in a shrill tone, your eyes watery with pleasure.

Jimin stops the movements of his pelvis, and before you can beg him to continue, he clamps his teeth on one of your nipples, flicking it repeatedly with the tip of his tongue, and penetrates you with his middle and ring fingers, leaving his thumb to stimulate your contracted clitoris mercilessly.

The urgency of your pleasure is like an electric shock, your walls sucking his fingers instantly into their silky softness, vibrating softly as they are penetrated and every single sensitive and receptive point stimulated, the orgasm shooting powerful and fast, you haven't even given him time to get to the last thrust, you come with raging shivers all over your body.

Just as you open your mouth to scream out all your pleasure, the hand Jimin was holding on your thigh goes up to your neck, his fingers tightening around it, but there is something strange about it.

It's not just erotic pressure, the fingers clench, so much, too much.

You open your eyes wide, searching for a miserable trickle of air, you try to tell Jimin with your eyes that you can't breathe, that he is hurting you, you even dig your nails into his arm, but nothing. Jimin's gaze is distant, remains intensely focused on you and doesn't seem to want to let go, fear and agitation blind you, you need oxygen as soon as possible, and eventually your brain shuts down and your body's response kicks in.

You strike Jimin in the face several times, heedless of his reddening skin, scratch his chest bloody, almost reopen the wound and fill him with fists. He accepts every single blow you give him in silence, because the feeling of your pulse desperately running under his fingers disgusts him, repulses him, but it must be so or you will never understand. When you try to grab him in your turn by the neck, to do the exact same thing to him, he finally releases you and you both regain air.

But for you the coming of air is painful, terrible, you take in so much that you can't really breathe and you choke, beginning to cough. You rise from him in shock, but you collapse to the ground with your head spinning and your peripheral vision almost completely obscured, your ears ringing and you are unable to think. You feel only shock, but also much, too much anger.

You thought the before was over, that the after was only full of love, you do not understand and when he reaches out to embrace you, your body instinctively rejects his touch.

Your still-dull mind loves him, your all too reactive body rejects him because of the danger, you are confused, you can only rely on instinct, which tells you to run away and get to safety.

Despite everything, Jimin comes back to embrace you and this time he does not accept your rejection, your body trembles in response, and when your mind finally manages to generate a thought, you can only ask…

“Why?” you cry, pressing your forehead to the floor, “Why did you do that?”

You touch your neck, it hurts, just as your lungs hurt. It was just horrible, why did he do such a thing? He said that... he said that...

“Because I love you,” he whispers miserably, "And that was the only way to make you understand," his voice sounds strange, as if trying to hold back sobs.

“I love you,” “The only way,” “To make you understand.”

You let him embrace you without trying to push him away anymore, but the terror is still there. It flows through your skin like a raging river.

“Now tell me, did you hit me because you wanted to or because it was your body reacting to what I was doing to you?” he asks softly in your ear, staring motionless at an undefined spot in the room.

Now you understand, he used sex to distract you and the threat of death to remind you of the danger and fear of that day.

You don't die from violent anal intercourse, but you die little by little inside if it is repeated day after day. Your mind had not held, your body had rebelled against that fate.

It was instinct, survival instinct.

“I didn't mean to do it... hit you I mean,” you sob, his lips brushing one cheek gently, as if to soothe you.

“You are not a monster, my love,” he whispers, remaining silent a few moments before resuming, “I am the monster” there is still self-loathing in his words, with the tip of his nose he brushes the marks of his fingers on your neck.

You know he's sorry, but you also know he won't regret it, not if it helped you understand.

You are not a monster, you just reacted to what was done to you, your mind and body were broken. Your mind more than your body.

You forgave Jimin and you will surely forgive him even now, in the after, because he helped you understand, understanding was the last step to forgiving yourself as well.

The shadows are less dense and Hoseok no longer wallows among them.

It is Jimin's words that matter, not Hoseok's.

Hoseok hates you and would do anything to kill you, whether physically or psychologically, it matters little.

Jimin loves you and would do anything for your welfare, even pass as a villain in an effort to help you understand.

Remember what you thought when Jimin confessed after saving you.

It is a sick love, but one you need to feel safe.

And you don't regrets anything.

“Jimin?” you call out to him, get a murmur in response, “Thank you.”

He kisses the fingers of your hand, some of them stained with his blood, but he regrets nothing.

“You are the most precious thing I have, Y/N,” he confesses, ”Hurting you disgusts me, though in this case it was necessary, forgive me.”

Overflowing with sincerity, you finally relax, “I have already forgiven you,” you reply.

Jimin cannot block the emotion he feels, he kisses you in your soft, fragrant hair, he knows he does not deserve it, but you are his whole world, “Thank you.”