#me and creed: imagine how tired we are. imagine how tired we are of it.

[rk1kincorrect]

me when people have no peoblem drawing white people tan but then draw actual darker skinned people as white….. WHY DO I HAVE TO KEEP FUCKING SAYING THIIIIIIIIIIIS!!! DRAW WHITE PEOPLE AS WHITE AND POC AS POC

[abbysdolly]

RAAAAAAA VIKING ABBY AND READER

(idk if you do x reader stuff i just saw your requests for asks lmao)

⁀➷ 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑳𝑭-𝑲𝑰𝑺𝑺𝑬𝑫 ˚₊‧⁺˖

𝘷𝘪𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨!𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘹 𝘷𝘪𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

ೀ › 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: OMG anon I've been thinking about viking!abby so many times before! And thank you so much for being officially my first request! hope you like it and sorry if there's any errors hehe. (Also I took the last name for Abby because of Eivor the main character of Assassin's Creed Valhalla, and the style of female Eivor is how I envision viking!abby) ♡

ೀ › 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Reader is female, suggestive content so minors do not interact, fluff and lightly mention of battles and scars. Let me know if there's anything else! ♡

(Special thanks to @andromeda-abides and @little-star-bun who helped me proofread this fic ♡)

There she was. Accompanied by the imposing howl of wolves, ax in hand. Crimson droplets adorned her shield and clothes while her slightly chapped lips quivered with irrepressible courage. She fought like no man known could. The way her ax moved smoothly like the wind itself was hypnotic and filled with such grace, passion and anger.

Her golden hair trapped in tiny and big braids, some strands danced freely adorned with silver rings that made it look like the golden light of the sun combined with the mysterious silver stars from the midnight sky.

And in that exact moment you knew that your heart belonged to her, for eternity.

The stories people told didn't do her justice. Especially the first time you saw her fight. The first time your eyes and hers connected with deep love and devotion between the clashing of axes and bodies that now sleeped eternally waiting for the Valkyries.

Like a ravenous wolf she ended every enemy in sight; she was a living myth. Some even believed that she was perhaps the unknown daughter of Odin himself, given that her strength was comparable to the All-father himself.

But only you could see the truth behind those tough looks and that pretty scar that adorned one side of her face, a scar of forgotten battles that helped her to build the respect she had now. You could see the woman who had fears and weakness like all humans, but there was nothing more beautiful to you.

"Freyja, Lady of the North, empower me. Give me strength, withhold my fear, embolden my spirit... Give me courage" she whispered, the familiar view of her kneeled in front of the wooden statue of the Goddess only meant that another battle was waiting beyond the threshold of your shared home.

The prayers to the Goddess Freyja and Odin were the only things that accompanied Abby to her battles, the battles to defend the honor of her people and most importantly to defend the land where you lived in peace with her.

"They are back, they are safe!" one of the children shouted while running to the entry of the village. Soon enough you heard the cries of the families that awaited for their beloved ones.

Your feet moved with such speed, eager eyes searching for Abby that was greeting the many children around her that were impatient to know the adventures she had this time.

"Okay, okay. I'll tell you all that we saw before dinner!" she answered to the children who ran and laughed around her.

Her beautiful eyes met yours making you feel goosebumps like the first time you exchanged looks with her.

A tender smile found a place in her face. She fought for days and she was beyond tired but seeing you was the best part of coming back home.

"Abby, you're back! Oh you can't imagine how much I missed you. Are you alright? Are you injured?" your voice breaking like the thin ice that covers the rivers in the winter, filled with emotion.

Trembling hands caressed Abby's face, making sure she was really there and not something created by your mind. But no, she was there with you.

"Of course I'm back, like I always do" she responded with a now toothy smile and continued "Shh, shh. I'm alright my love, I'm here with you… Finally" her lips soon found yours with deep need and desire, her familiar pine scent filled your senses while the heated kiss said better than any words could.

"Let me help clean you up before dinner, you need to rest my love" you whispered once the kiss ended, her forehead pressed slightly to yours while her big and calloused hands holded your face with tenderness.

A surprised gasp left your mouth as soon as you were now being carried away by Abby, your waist resting against one of her broad shoulders like it was nothing.

Shortly after between laughs she put you down, the door already opened because of the urge to see her a couple of minutes ago "Well, thank you for the ride" you teased as a smirk appeared on Abby's face.

She sat on one of the two wooden chairs, humming when you began to peel off each one of her clothes leaving her upper body bare "You don't have to thank me, I like carrying pretty girls" her cocky attitude always made you smile endlessly, Abby carried herself with lot of self confidence and you couldn't blame her, she was powerful and beautiful. And she knew it.

"Oh, so you carry every pretty girl that crosses your view?" you questioned, eyebrow arched slightly. Your question made her chuckle "Well, not exactly. Just one pretty girl caught my sight… and my heart" she revealed, her voice and gestures exaggerated making her look like a teenager in love and you couldn't help but roll your eyes and smile at her.

"You're such a tease, Abby Wolf-Kissed" her legs opened to leave place to yours, your hands undoing her tight braids making her blonde locks fall beyond her shoulders and covering her chest slightly "But I love you that way" you continued, this time in a gentle and loving whisper due to the closeness. The dim and warm light of the lantern illuminated the scars spaced across Abby's body, your fingertips traced along them and you remembered how some of them were cleaned and treated by you.

She looks up at you, feeling safe under your gaze and touch "I thank the gods for letting me see you again. And I thank you for doing my duties while I'm away" her hands found home on your waist trying to have you closer.

"You don't need to thank me, Abby. I enjoy taking care of our people like you always do, I thank the gods as well for bringing you back to me… Safe'' her eyes sparkled beautifully and just by looking at them you could feel all the love behind those icy orbs.

Her hands caressed your waist going down slightly to your thighs, missing the feeling of your warm body against the skin of her rough hands. Your cheeks warmed up at the familiar feeling of her hands roaming your body with such confidence, your body molding like clay under her hands making your current task of cleaning her body something so hard to do.

Her eyes never left your face as you tried to soak a piece of cloth to clean hers. The black painting around her eyes now slightly faded and easily to clean, the dirt going away allowing you to see those pretty freckles spaced across her nose and cheeks "You're so beautiful" you whispered again now cleaning her neck and shoulders, the air thick enough that Abby could cut it with her ax.

She smiled, her cheeks getting warm as soon as she heard your compliment. Even though she was tough and strong you could make her so shy with just a compliment "Not as beautiful as you, my love" she answered in a whisper, the muscles of her toned arms flexing each time you passed the wet cloth on her warm and freckled skin.

Her gentle, slightly calloused hand cupped your cheek, searching for those beautiful eyes of yours. Searching for those pretty lips she craved so badly until she couldn't control herself anymore and stole a kiss from them. The passion glowed through both your pores and each gentle touch said a small "I love you" onto the other's skin.

The only thing in your mind was her and only her, all of her. Her smell, her hair, her lips, her body, how warm she was, everything.

"I have something for you" she breathed between the heated kisses. "Close your eyes for me, please" her velvety voice making your head fuzzy (obviously not for the heated make out session you had a couple of seconds ago).

And so you did, you closed your eyes and sighed nervously. Her gifts and surprises were always exciting but this time everything felt even more intimate, more serious.

Gently Abby put a gold ring out of one of the tiny pockets in her belt.

"Open your eyes now, my love" she whispered, leaving a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose while putting the precious ring on the palm of your hand. Her heartbeat fast, eager to see your reaction.

Your eyes opened slowly seeing her red cheeks and a shy smile, she took your hand and took the ring again putting it slowly on your ring finger, eyes not leaving yours.

The ring was shaped like a little flower with gemstones for the petals, each one shining beautifully almost like Abby's eyes. "Oh Abby this is so beautiful, you–" she cut you off with a gentle kiss on your lips "My love… Would you marry me?" each side of her hands on your face as she said that, her voice making you enter to the Valhalla almost instantly.

"Of course I want to Abby! I would be so glad to be your wife. I'd love to" you answered with tears of happiness running down your cheeks. Her smile grew bigger from the pride of finally having you as her precious wife. Her strong arms lifted you with ease and she laughed with joy while she spinned you around the house.

Both of your hearts felt the same thing as the first time you saw each other. With unconditional love and devotion, though she wasn't a seer, she definitely saw that you were for her and only her; your destinies were sewn together by Fregga herself.

Thank you for reading! Any like reblog or comment are really appreciated, have a good day/night and don´t forget to drink water! love ya! ♡

[nateezfics]

Oh Nattt, I have Hongjoong thoughts for youuu~ (I was inspired by the aventus creed post & an old prompt about having a scent kink).

So, picture it: a Christmas vacation with Hongjoong in any country you choose, and you're in the finest luxury suite they have, because it's only the best quality for his love. You're touring the local hot spots and you're so so busy exploring the sights, and Hongjoong is ready to do all you'd like, but he just can't seem to get you alone. Anything you do involves other people. Touring the sites? It's with a guide and a group. Heading out for a drive? It's with a chauffeur. Going to dinner? It has to be at the fancy restaurant hotel instead of room service. And he's getting a little impatient. He doesn't mind those things, but he just wants some alone time with his baby. And when you're coming back from dinner, he starts to tell you how he feels, but before he can, a man passes you by.

As he passes, you catch a whiff of his cologne. "Excuse me, but your cologne smells amazing." The man smiles, giving you a quick once over before thanking you and continuing on his way. When you turn back, you don't realize that was Hongjoong's last straw. As you take the elevator back to your room, you notice he is unusually quiet. He doesn't say anything as you walk into the room until the door is closed. Grabbing you by the waist, he gently lays you back on the bed, before hovering over you and trapping you with his arms. You're suddenly surrounded by him; his presence, his body, his scent. He floods your senses. He trails his hand slowly over the skin of your throat as he speaks. "Sweetheart, I love that you're enjoying our trip so much. But don't you think I deserve some of your time? Hm? We haven't been alone since we got here, and I'm honestly kind of upset with you."

You're barely paying attention, since all you can focus on is the way he smells. The scent of his cologne is making your brain short circuit; you're reminded of past nights spent in his arms, and you can feel yourself slipping into the heated memories and the absolute need that they bring with them. Hongjoong noticed your eyes glazing over, and he smirked before tapping your cheek. "I can see it won't be too hard to make you forget all about that other guy." Your brows furrow in confusion as you ask him who he means, and he laughs. "Like I said, easy. Spread your legs for me, love."

(the end☺️)

oh bby😭 i apologize for the delayed response;; i’ve been reading this over and over again, and it’s just so hot i have a hard time coming up with words to respond with 🥴

the sprinkle of possessive hongjoong. oh god. that gets me. every damn time. “i can see it won’t be too hard to make you forget all about that other guy” *screams, kicks feet* like sir you’re the only guy i’m thinking about wdym 🥴 the way hong would know he’s the only one who’s got your attention, but would remind you anyways. “spread your legs for me, love” they were already wide open!!!!

i’d like to imagine he’d take you to paris. idk, i just do. he’d love the sight seeing with you,, but like you said, he’d get tired of the lack of alone time with you. he’d be so pouty about it too, and the guy being flirty with you while asking about your scent would be the straw the broke the camel’s back. absolutely would ravish you once he gets you alone.

imagine him doing sensory play, knowing how much you love his scent. blindfolding you, ultimately heightening your other senses by taking away your sight. the way your sense of smell would be even stronger, and you’d be even more sensitive to his scent, his touch, and the sound of his voice.

this is so hot i’m literally malfunctioning thinking about this 🙃🙃

[ferinehuntress]

Okay, I had a bit of a rough week, so I haven't been on my best mind or thoughts because of things.

However, I do finally want to do a belated New Year's greeting and appreciation to some people who I think I want to say things about because they are the reason why I'm still on my blog and what has made my life beautiful.

I do not celebrate New Year's, however, I do believe in trying to look to the better, to hope for better. It is not about a new year and erasing everything that has happened, but having a chance to build yourself how you want to. I do not do resolutions nor do I believe in the idea of New Year's meaning kissing or drinking. It's a time to appreciate what you have and who you have it with.

◈　@shimmerbeasts　 ⋯　 I would have never expected to have made such a powerful and impactful relationship with Miss T when I first met her. And yet, after six months, she has become not only my best friend but someone I consider family. I can't even imagine my life without Miss T now, it's like finding someone who is a long-lost sister, who understands me better than I know myself at times. I don't think there are enough words or phrases to express how much I truly appreciate her and her friendship, and I hope for many more months of enjoyment in our hyperfixations and the things we enjoy. <3

◈　@goldenfists　 ⋯　 Joo was such a surprise. We started talking over small plotting, and then suddenly, we bonded so deeply. Joo is a sweetheart and I love getting to talk to her about everything, from real life to plotting to so much more. Joo has a heart of gold, and I truly hope she gets to have so much more this year; new friends, new adventures, and I hope I get to be there to share it. <3

◈　@gauntlets-shot　 ⋯　 Royal is absolutely a sweet lady! While we do not talk often, I can say that she is one of the people I never get tired of seeing on my dash. I think she is doing amazing things with her college schooling. I always love getting to spaz on Discord about our stuff. <3

◈　@decidentia　 ⋯　 I have known Puffin long before I joined the League of legends fandom. I think it's going on a year in a half now that I have known her. She's a mom, I'm a mom, and we are both stressed with kids and life. I think she's one of the few people who understand the struggles of parenthood because she's always one too <3 Honestly, I would follow Puffin anywhere, because not only do I love her writing, but she as a person is a sweetheart. I really do hope for great things for you this year. <3

◈　@jynxd　 ⋯　 My empathic buddy <3 It's only been a few months, but Bli is amazing. they are sweet and kind, but easily understand my hyperfixations and excitement over things. Bli has so much in their mind and I love how they easily understand my mind thought processes and get just as excited over plots. I love our trio <3

◈　@ofspvrta　 ⋯　 Ikaros is someone I have known for..... three years now. Man, I can't believe it's been that long!!! They have my love of Assassin's Creed. I haven't written in the fandom in a long time, but it still has been our linking connection that made our friendship blossom! I don't regret anything, and now they are one of my closest friends through thick and thin. I don't have my other friend's url, Apis, but these two are probably my longest-known friendships from Tumblr who are still on Tumblr. We've been through so much and still, we hold strong <3

◈　@playgroundmonsters　 ⋯　 Ama is the sweetest, she has such a good heart and a good soul despite what the world throws at her. We both have similar struggles but she's been such a joy to have in my life and I have no regrets. From our threads to our talks, I hope I can continue to be here to help her as she has helped me. I'll always need her in my life <3

◈　@blackrosesmatron　 ⋯　 Lucy has so much love for her muses and her OC. She came out of nowhere and now I'm just like 'Yes, she is mine imma keep her' when I got to talking to her about Angelica. Lucy is such a sweet lady, she loves her muses as much as I love mine (if not more!) and I'm always happy to get to write with her. I hope things continue to get bigger and better for her.

There are many more of you that I follow, though, that I appreciate and I truly hope that 2024 offers you opportunities and great things to come your way. I hope your health stays well and that everything you need is given to you. Never forget how important you are. I listed everyone I follow below, its a small list (I only have 30 of you guys XD)

@knifvd, @piltover-sharpshooter, @torntruth, @demacianhcart, @weavertali, @deadn30n, @elicertis, @valhiir, @naitfall, @runes-menagerie, @zaunseye, @rebelquilledl, @realmyths, @sheavoid, @spectrophobias, @lowlifetopfloor, @mcnagerie

[auroramoon-draws16]

I can’t stop thinking about this, but it’s not Assassin’s Creed, sorry folks.

Hogwarts Legacy x Harry Potter

(No real spoilers, mostly vague references, iykyk)

I just need BAMF! Player Character/MC to pop up in the Harry Potter era. I’ve thought about several ways how:

1. Ghost. MC is the damn best duelist in history, but they can’t win ‘em all. Keep fighting the hardest fights, or get caught in a bad ending, and it’s curtains. So, what if MC didn’t feel like they did enough, hadn’t been able to help their friends enough, so they stayed, and in that decision, the wizarding world’s history changed. You call that defense against the dark arts??? That’s bullshit is what that is! Hey kid, here’s how you properly duel a bitch. Yes, it’s entirely legal to throw furniture and other objects at your opponent. Yes, you can throw your opponent. Prophecy? You guys traumatized a child! Hey, you, Harry was it? I gotchu, kid.

2. A painting. It’s pretty clear that the portraits all over the school are alive and retain some personality and characteristics of the subjects. Mostly when the subject actually adds more to their portrait to have a better effect. The MC was also one of the few who could use ancient magic, so that could be a reason they decided to have their portrait done, to ensure the next generation would have some sort of guidance they didn’t get. Not only that, but also help future duelists. So maybe the portrait can only be accessed by asking the Room of Requirement, mostly because ancient magic secrets are best kept between users. Imagine that portrait being found by Harry, he asks the room for help teaching Dumbledor’s Army spells and suddenly a portrait of a person no one has heard of, but apparently is the best duelist in the history of the wizarding world perks up and goes “alright, bet.” (This can also work for the ghost version) Well, the portrait could also just be out in public, but the MC is just not there, cue mystery to be solved!

3. Time travel. Ancient magic is wonky, it can happen! Cue sudden transfer student shenanigans. Also, chosen one? That is a child, MC has seen enough shit to know that’s fucked up and Harry needs better supports in his life, dammit. Older sibling MC goes brrrrr.

4. Apparition. Ancient magic wonky shit, part 2! Prophecies are bullshit. That is a child, and that bitchy 80 year old snake face needs to eat concrete. Harry stumbles upon an ancient magic item before he gets to Hogwarts. A necklace or a bracelet or some shit. Now baby Harry has a friend! MC takes one look at this child and goes “anybody gonna love and care for this one? No? Aight, mine now.” They can’t do much, but they are visible and heard only to Harry, so that means they can keep him company and tutor him wherever possible. How did they end up like this??? Uh…. Don’t worry about it.

5. Pensives. Somebody has to learn from history, and books are boring dammit. And easily edited. MC’s got your back kiddos.

6. How long do wizards live? Oh shit, yeah, MC is still alive. Heyyyy bitches, I’m your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor! Who here knows how to throw a bitch at a wall? No? Well we got a lot of catching up to do. I may be old, but I’m still the best damn duelist around.

Idk, I wanted to have some fun with this and I haven’t seen anyone do this with an actual character. You can add backstories and shit. I hate reader inserts, okay? Don’t judge me :/ (also I’m tired of the romance, I love me a good ship, but my aromantic ass wants to see cute platonic shit, okay?)

Here’s my MC for Hogwarts Legacy, even tho I don’t have the game, lmao:

Morgan Diane Rook (They/Them)

Black wavy hair that goes just past their ears, gray eyes, tan skin, freckles, round face, scar on their cheek, and in Hufflepuff (my house, also for the rep)

Sass master, protective friend, and just a little bit feral, will laugh in the face of enemies. Unforgivable curses? I don’t need to be forgiven, I just need you to cease existence. You were very rude to my friend.

Obligatory Slytherins need a designated Hufflepuff best friend.

Blame the attitude on the Uncle who took them in after their parents died in an accident. Uncle Jack is from the states and ran in a gang before he went straight for his kid, he’s trying his best dammit. It’s also why they’re a transfer student, they spent a few years with Uncle Jack in the states before moving back into Mom and Dad’s place. He hired a wizard tutor, no worries. He don’t get all this magic shit, but he loves his kid, and that’s enough reason for him. They’re a damn good duelist for a reason.

Morgan also knows how to use a gun, just because :)

Idk, I think they’re neat

[sometipsygnostalgic]

Legend of Zelda’s impact on other games

It’s a difficult question to figure out which Zelda games were most influential. 

I can tell you the LEAST influential. Despite having the most hands-on storytelling, Twilight Princess and Skyward Sword left very little impact on the genre, and while Wind Waker has aged much better and is the most beautiful game on the gamecube, back in 2003 it was impactful only in how people decided to make their games not look like it. Also, Zelda 2 plays like trash. Don’t touch it.  

However when you get to the heavy hitters, the original Zelda on the NES was the first known console videogame to ever implement Save Files. Can you imagine videogames without save files now? 

A Link to the PAst is an excellent demonstration of the capabilities of the SNES, and though I think Super Mario World is a lot more impactful, all future games were inspired by the dungeon layout and worldbuilding in Awakening.

Then there’s Ocarina of Time’s impact which cannot be understated because it is one of the first 3d adventure videogames. Considering the Nintendo 64 was vastly underpowered compared to the PS1 and to PC units, it’s funny how well Ocarina has aged, and how future Zelda titles struggled so hard to grab the hype of this game. 

Majora’s Mask, while not as memorable and without nearly as much development time, is an interesting example of a “timed” game, and I honestly think an entire genre has come out of it. A very niche genre, but still. I think, like Wind Waker, it’s grown on the audience over time.   

After the semi-duds of Windwaker, Twilight Princess, and Skyward Sword, as well as countless portable releases of mixed success, Breath of the Wild comes out. What makes Breath of the Wild unique is that it is a new spin on the open world genre, which Zelda initially popularised all those years ago and which Assassins Creed had blown into the modern era. After the market had been saturated by Ubisoft’s open world trash, it was a “breath” of fresh air.  

How impactful has it been? Well, honestly, I think Breath of the Wild marked a CRASH in open world videogames. Since that came out, very few developers are daring to tread on that territory anymore. Everyone realised they were sick and tired of open world games. If it’s not as good as Breath of the Wild, nobody wants to touch it. 

Now, Tears of the Kingdom? Hmm. I think, it will be remembered as one of the best games on the Switch, and mechanically it’s airtight, and it sells BUCKETS, but I think it’s actually a victim of its predecessor’s success. Because when Breath of the Wild put a bullet in the head of the open world genre, it makes Tears of the Kingdom feel very tiring to complete. What doesn’t help is the lack of discovery, we have already seen this map before. 

I wonder if future games will try to do the vehicle building mechanic here? It makes me think of Banjo and Kazooie: Nuts and Bolts, except the game is universally loved instead of being seen as a trash derailment of the series. 

[wqintraining]

NEW X-MEN: THE ANIMATED SERIES - SEASON 3, EPISODE 12 (PART 1 OF 2)

We open months ago, just after Sofia completed her transformation into War. War, having changed into her initial blue armor, sans helmet, follows behind a tired and weakened Apocalypse through the halls of their base. 

APOCALYPSE: “Your training remains far from complete. You are now armed with the weapons you have earned, but you must still learn how to use them.” 

SOFIA: “I believe I am already skilled with my winds. I have not forgotten anything.” 

Apocalypse doesn’t doubt that, only what her imagination was previously capable of. She knew how to slice her enemies and disrupt their eardrums, but how far did she ever take that? 

APOCALYPSE: “Have you ever torn the air from a man’s lungs and watched the light leave his eyes? Have you considered that with mastery over all that surrounds you, you could make the wind track the most minute of your opponents’ movements? These are the skills I will teach you.” 

Sofia looks at Apocalypse from behind, in awe of him. 

SOFIA: “Thank you, Lord Apocalypse.” He turns his head to glare at her. “Oh. I am sorry. I am still accepting that this is real…Father.” 

APOCALYPSE, turning his head straight: “You are not the first child I have had since my first. Not by blood or by other means.”

SOFIA: “I’m not? Then where are they?” 

APOCALYPSE: “Dead. Either killed or aged to dust. My genes do not guaruntee immortality. You are now the first since the original Horsemen to possess it.” 

The two stop at the grand entrance to Apocalypse’s bed chambers. 

SOFIA, smiling at him, now at his side: “Meaning I have plenty of time to get it right…my lord.”  

APOCALYPSE, glaring back at her: “Meaning I would prefer you not going out of your way to annoy me for all eternity.” 

SOFIA, playfully: “You made me permanently seventeen. Blame yourself.” 

Apocalypse shuts his eyes and seethes as he has his servants open the doors and enters. Before Sofia follows…

SOFIA, still processing: “All eternity.” 

Inside the bedroom, Sofia’s eyes dart around at the ornate furnishings, before Apocalypse holds something out to her. 

APOCALYPSE, holding out a lightning bolt shaped sword: “The swords crafted by Isca the Unbeaten are unrivaled by any on this plain. I possess them all. I gift this one to you.” 

Sofia, hands shaking, takes it and admires it. She notices that it’s different from the ones he uses; it’s much smaller. Apocalypse informs her that this sword was wielded by his wife. Her body was small, but her power was unmatched. 

SOFIA: “You are sure she would want me to have it?”

APOCALYPSE: “She will decide that for herself when she meets you.” 

Now then, War shouldn’t be thinking that her training will become any easier or less painful just because of his own ailments or her elevated status. Now that she is immortal, he can push her harder than ever. He will make her wish she could die. And she will thank him. 

APOCALYPSE: “Are you ready?” 

Sofia’s face lights up as she sheathes her new weapon. 

SOFIA: “Always, Father.” 

Elsewhere, a news broadcast is watched, as millions of people protest around the world against the rising threat of Mutants, not just motivated about everything else that’s happened in recent months, but two new pieces of breaking news. First, the thousands of mysterious deaths from Apocalypse’s plague having finally been tracked to have a connection to the X-gene, and second, Graydon Creed has been found dead. 

Graydon’s two largest benefactors, Carlton Kilgore and Lenore Kensington, hold a press conference, surrounded by Friends of Humanity members, and with their respective son and daughter as their side. Since the news first broke forty minutes ago, the Friends of Humanity has gained thousands of new members. They will continue their work, now in honor of Graydon, and avenge his deaths at the hands of the Mutants by finding a new candidate to get America back on track. 

The news reminds its viewers of where the source for this accusation is coming from, playing a clip from earlier in the morning of Lenore’s daughter, Wilhelmina, holding a kitten, crying in front of the cameras about how nice Mr. Creed was to her, and that she knows it must have been the Mutant Emma Frost who killed him; she was just meeting with him! She and her friend Kade saw her, but no one else remembers! 

The TV this is being watched on is destroyed by an optic blast. 

In the headmasters’ office, Cyclops and Magneto are equally pissed. 

CYClOPS: “How does this keep getting worse?” He turns to Erik, his anger boiling and his fists shaking. “The news coming about Apocalypse’s plague couldn’t just have come out now by coincidence? The media must have been waiting for something like this just to drive it in.” 

ERIK, scooting Scott back with his magnetism to get him out of his face: “Optics are your concern. You will figure something out. I want to know why Emma lied to us.” 

Scott’s confused about what he’s talking about, but Erik tells him to not be stupid; Emma told them yesterday that neither she nor M were able to complete the assasination attempt. Scott says he isn’t stupid, he just can’t think of a single reason she would have had to lie. 

ERIK: “As if that woman needs to reason.” 

SCOTT, even more pissed, eyes glowing behind his sunglasses: “What was that?!” 

Before the two can start fighting, Scott’s mind is telepathically soothed as Emma enters. 

EMMA: “I don’t know what your problem is, Erik, but keep my name out of your mouth, hm?” She holds Scott’s hand as Erik glares at her. “If you would like to point fingers, consider aiming them toward the little twerps who miraculously avoided having their minds wiped.” 

ERIK: “You are saying ten year-old children poisoned Graydon Creed?” 

EMMA, narrowing her eyes: “Show of hands. Who here hasn’t had a child of that age, or younger, attempt to kill them?” Magneto can’t raise his hand. Scott smirks. “Precisely.” 

Erik questions why they would do this even if they are responsible but, letting go of Scott, Emma thinks they need to table this discussion; they have to worry about their own children. 

EMMA: “Our X-Men in Training are gone. All of them.” 

Scott asks what she means, with Emma explaining that none of them, or Laura, are here, and from the scan she and Danielle ran, none of them ever came home last night either. 

ERIK “They’re rambunctious children with high-stress lives. I’m sure they just–”

EMMA: “I’m not sensing any of them in New York, either.” 

Cyclops, clenching one of his fists, exiss the office as he presses on his com. 

CYCLOPS: “Danger, prep my jet.” 

Emma and Magneto follow after him, wondering what he’s planning. 

CYCLOPS: “I’m not losing any more people. I’m done playing games and asking questions. We’re going to have a chat with the one person who has all the answers.” 

We cut to the Egyptian dessert, as four figures in the distance trudge through it. Just before we see them, it becomes clear who they are as they start talking. 

PITOR: “I already told you, I do not wish to speak about it.” 

KURT: “Oh come on, Pete, if anyone can understand the strange emotions of your sister dating your ex, it’s me!” 

LOGAN, leading the group and sniffing the air: “You mean because you used to kiss your sister?” 

KURT: “That is not what was happening!” 

ORORO, clearly happy to be back with HER team: “It isn’t contrary to what transpired either.” 

KURT, frustrated even Ororo is teasing: “Storm!” 

PITOR: “As soon as our mission is complete, I will express my feelings as I see fit.” 

ORORO: “Does that mean a painting? I hope you will be in the mood to share, little brother.” 

Pitor smiles. He’ll make sure she gets to see it. 

KURT: “Okay, but seriously guys, I wasn’t kissing my–” 

LOGAN, cutting him off: “Shut it, Elf. I’ve got something.” 

Pitor doesn’t know what he’s talking about; there’s nothing here. Ororo pulls out a device, and adds that, according to the coordinates Kitty gave her, Apocalypse’s base wasn’t far from here before its destruction. 

Logan growls as he continues to sniff. He sniffs high, he sniffs low, and eventually…

LOGAN, cringing: “Slim, you idiot.” Kurt questions what Scott did. “That man thinks of everything. But he didn’t think to look underground!” 

A pink light flashes and sand is blasted in their faces. The season X-Men prepare for battle, with Logan popping out his claws, Nightcrawler drawing a rapier, Ororo pulling out her knives, and Colossus transforming into his metal form. 

“Welcome X-Men!” 

Exodus reveals himself, floating above them as he keeps the sandstorm raging. 

EXODUS: “Your timing couldn’t be more perfect. Have you come to oppose destiny or to submit?” He holds out the hand he used to steal Ororo’s powers. “Storm?” 

BEAT

STORM: “I do not know if anything can be done for me.” She twirls her knives. “But you are not leaving this place with that hand. To me, my X-Men!” 

Colossus and Wolverine start the fight with a Fastball Special (Classic Edition), with Pitor tossing Logan at Exodus. Exodus casually flings him away, but the X-Men quickly follow up, with Nightcrawler teleporting Colossus above Exodus’ head to smash him. Bennett reacts quickly enough to fling them away as well, but Colossus grabs his arm and throws him into the ground. 

Storm and Logan rush him while he’s down, but Exodus launches a massive energy blast at them. Nightcrawler teleports them both out of the blast’s range, while Pitor lands, crashing his knees into Bennett’s chest. Exodus screams, as Colossus pumbles him, drawing blood, until Exodus blasts him away in a rage. 

Even as Exodus picks himself up though, the X-Men don’t give him a moment to breathe, as Storm distracts him by throwing one of her knives and slicing his face, giving Logan the chance to move in and slash his chest. Nightcrawler returns with a badly injured but stil standing Colossus, above Exodus, ready to smash him again, but Exodus has had enough of this. The Omega-level telekinetic blasts all of them away with a gargantuan wave of TK energy in all directions. 

Logan and Colossus pick themselves back up, while Ororo and Kurt are conscious, but too injured to stand. 

EXODUS, enraged:  “You actually thought you weaklings could come here and overcome ME?” 

LOGAN, trying to get under his skin: “We were actually thinking about your boss, not you.” 

COLOSSUS: “Now that we stand here though, I do like our odds.” 

Exodus derides them for the fools they are. His power is unrivaled! And them? Two of them cannot even fight on their own. And the metal men are hardly a threat themselves. 

Logan and Pitor are tense as they stare him down, knowing he’s right. But…

STORM, forcing herself to stand: “You presume too much, Exodus.” Bennett sneers at her. “Iceman defeated you, did he not? And you have served not one, but three masters. Your power does not seem unmatched to me.” 

EXODUS: “Silence!” 

STORM, smirking with her single knife at the ready: “You had to cheat to defeat me at my best. Forgive me for favoring my chances while at my worst.” 

Ororo’s words get to Bennett, just like she hoped, but not in the way she expected. This depowered, arrogant woman with a blade standing up to him makes him think back to when he was first training Sofia, and become livid that he allowed her to remain such a nuisance. 

Exodus screams as he unleashes another blast encompassing the entire area. 

In Clan Akabba’s base, Lady Akabba walks past the cells holding Laura, Julian, Noriko, Cessily, and Roxy, not just with her usual grace, but an extra pep in her step. Death and Dust follow behind her, with Sooraya’s eyes guilty as they pass by her friends, and Akihiro assuring Sofia that they won’t wake up until she’s ready for them. 

SOFIA, with absolute confidence in her voice: “Good. I don’t want them waking up in these conditions. It will send the wrong idea.” Sofia notices the look in Soo’s eyes. “Do not worry, Dust. Once they understand their place is among the strong, this will be their world as much as yours.” She giggles. “Well, a little more Hellion’s.” 

Akihiro narrows his eyes. 

AKIHIRO: “My lady, may we speak in private?” 

Lady Akabba is quietly amused as she thinks she knows what this is about and asks Sooraya to leave them, informing her the servants will get her anything she needs. 

SOORAYA: “I…thank you.” 

Soo gives a small bow, before flying off as a cloud of sand. Sofia watches her depart with a smile on her face, before turning back to Akihiro to smirk at him. 

SOFIA, mockingly: “Something to say?” 

AKIHIRO, displeased: “I would of course never question you…but you still intend to make that boy your king?” 

SOFIA: “Why wouldn’t I? I love him.” 

AKIHIRO: “He may be fit, but he is hardly worthy of you. You deserve nothing less than an Omega.” 

SOFIA: “If memory serves me right, the only Omega men on Earth presently are either incorporeal energy beings, gay, someone I intend to kill, or more than one of the above. That is not what I am looking for.” 

AKIHIRO: “And you have just forgotten the way he betrayed you?” 

SOFIA: “Love is pain, and pain is love. Besides, you all misled me. He never once slept with Surge while we were together.” Akihiro tries to speak, but she talks over him. “And just as I knew they would, they broke up on their own. So there are no problems.” She tilts her head. “Unless you wish to tell me that you are jealous.” 

AKIHIRO, aghast at the prospect: “Jealous? I’ve told you before that if I wanted you, I would have you.” 

SOFIA: “And you have never said why you don’t.” 

Sofia shoots Akihiro a taunting grin as she strokes his muscular arm, Aki not appearing too happy about it. 

EXODUS, approaching: “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.” He tosses down the unconscious bodies of Storm, Wolverine, and Colossus. “But we have a problem.” 

As Lady Akabba and Death compose themselves, they have Famine explain that the X-Men were finally able to find them. He dealt with the intruders with ease, of course, but they have a little issue. 

SOFIA, realizing who’s missing based on her inside knowledge: “Where is Nightcrawler?” 

We cut to the Danger Room, where Escapade and Foxx are sparring. In the command room above, Kitty, while watching over her student, is also on her computer, desperately trying to track down the X-Men in training. 

KITTY: “Come on. Where are you guys?” 

Behind Kitty, Illyana leans against the wall, brooding, thinking about Pestillence’s offer to free her from her suffering. She shakes her head. 

MAGIK: “KItty, may I ask you something?” 

KITTY: “A little busy babe, but shoot.” 

Illyana weakly smiles at the term of affection from her girlfriend. Before she can say anything though, Nightcrawler BAMFs in, laying heavily injured and exhausted on the floor. 

KITTY: “Kurt!” 

Kitty drops to the floor to check on him, and asks if he’s okay, quickly following up by asking where the others all are. Kurt tries to answer, but before he can, he passes out. Kitty and Yana share a look of concern. 

 We cut to a familiar large Missisippi home, where elderly Irene Adler is spreading rhubarb jam on a piece of toast. She moves calmly and precisely, before pausing. She sighs. 

DESTINY: “I wish you’d knock.” 

Irene’s door is blasted in by an optic beam, before Cyclops, Emma, and Magneto barge into her house. 

EMMA: “Mystique isn’t here.” 

ERIK: “Good. I don’t think I have the patience for that right now.” 

 IRENE, off-screen: “Excuse me?” 

Irene crunches down on and chews her toast, before swallowing and dabbing her face with a napkin. 

IRENE: “That’s my wife you’re talking about.” 

EMMA: “And do you always have the patience for her?” 

Irene cracks half a smirk. 

IRENE: “I believe you’re the one with something to say here, Mr Summers. We can talk about it while Ms. Frost writes me a check for my door.” 

Cyclops stomps up to Irene. Destiny isn’t afraid as he attempts to appear imposing, taking another bite of her toast. 

SCOTT: “Where are the Horsemen? Where are they keeping our students?” 

DESTINY, swallowing: “What makes you think I’ve had any visions about that? And why didn’t you come to me about them two months ago?” 

SCOTT: “Your first question confirms you know what I’m talking about.” 

IRENE: “And your dodging my second makes me suspect an answer.” 

SCOTT: “Don’t care. You know about Lady Akabba.” 

IRENE: “I do. She attempted to recruit Raven and I. Horrible young lady. Absolutely no manners.” 

SCOTT: “We know. Where is she?” 

IRENE: “The home that is her present, but not her future.” 

ERIK: “We do not intend on allowing her to live. If you see her future, then we have already lost.” 

IRENE: “Do not be such a downer, Magneto. My visions are not always accurate.” 

SCOTT: “But you do see where she is.” Cyclops’ visor glows, the sound of his beams loud enough for Irene to hear. “And you’re going to tell us right now.” 

Irene’s face becomes expressionless, before she sticks the last piece of her toast in her mouth. She smirks at Cyclops’ frustration as she chews. 

EMMA: “I take it back, Irene. You and Mystique are perfect for one another.” 

Destiny swallows. 

IRENE: “I know. Just as I know that the only reason you’re breaking down my door now and weren’t knocking on it months ago is because you’re afraid.” 

SCOTT: “Don’t push me.” 

IRENE: “You’re not going to murder me in cold blood. That isn’t you. It’s who you’re scared you’re turning into.” 

SCOTT: “Emma, get the info from her head.” 

EMMA: “I’ve been trying, Darling. She’s had more than a few decades to learn to protect her mind.” 

IRENE: “Well? Will you order Magneto to bring my house down on me, next?”

ERIK, pissed: “I do not take orders.” 

IRENE: “Of course not. Supervillains like you and Ms. Frost are like me; you only give orders.” Scott’s blood boils and Irene enjoys watching it happen. “I know. You didn’t want to get into bed with another one. But here you are.” 

A small amount of energy bubbles out of Scott’s visor, but before he can shoot…

EMMA: “She gave me the coordinates. We’ve been played. They’re underneath their original base.” 

Erik is pissed enough by this revelation that multiple glass objects around the house explode. Irene remains unphased. 

IRENE: “I suppose I should go clean that up. Good luck saving the world…X-Men.” 

As Scott continues to pant and sweat and seethe, Emma calms his mind again, putting an arm around him and leading him out of the house, Magneto floating behind. 

EMMA, telepathically: “What she was saying. It’s true then.” 

SCOTT, telepathically: “Yes. I’m sorry.” 

EMMA: “I don’t particularly care if I’m seen as a hero or villain. You’re getting a little old for that as well. Do you love me?” 

SCOTT, without hesitation: “Yes.”

EMMA: “Then we have no problems. At least not between us.” 

As they hold each other on their way to the Blackbird, the camera pans over to Magneto. Magneto calls Cannonball over his com. He needs him to bring all the teachers together, immediately. 

In Clan Akabba’s base, Exodus and Malice float down a hall together. Malice groans, as she dusts her hands off, with burnt pieces of skin falling off. 

EXODUS: “You’ve held this form for nearly a year, and only on the eve of our victory are you beggining to burn?” 

MALICE: “I wasn’t fighting for most of that time. I was fine, but the princess and the wannabe prince were more challenging than I anticipated.” 

EXODUS: “Well keep it together. You will have your new body soon enough. It would just be tragic if the X-Men arrived and we fell because of you, wouldn’t it?” 

Exodus floats away from her with a smirk. 

MALICE, annoyed and dusting off more burnt skin: “I’m not the one who keeps losing to them.” 

Both Horsemen arrive in a chamber, away from the other prison cells, where Wanda and Pietro are shackled to the wall, with power dampening collars on them. Malice calls upon the power of Pestillence and opens the red eyes on her palms, and rips the poison out of Wanda, absorbing it back into herself. 

Wanda wakes up, gasping after her extended slumber. 

EXODUS: “Hello, Witch.” 

Wanda’s eyes fill with rage as she takes note of her surroundings, including Pietro, and attempts to blast her way out. But nothing happens. 

EXODUS: “There is no sorceress more powerful than you, Wanda Maximoff.” 

MALICE: “But even you are subject to the incantation placed on this chamber to block magic.” 

Wanda struggles, but soon accepts she’s trapped. 

WANDA: “I was asleep. For a long time.” 

MALICE: “Two months exactly, love.” 

WANDA, glaring at the face of her sister: “What do you want?” 

EXODUS: “It is just as the two of you discussed. Your chaos magic will break down the fabrics of reality, and resew them to form a beautiful quilt of Mutant dominated perfection.” BEAT. “Although…our specific ideas do differ from our diminutive queen’s.”

Exodus grips Wanda’s chin tightly. 

EXODUS: “In the world you forge, I will rule alone as king, my rightful place as the strongest of all. And my world will have no use for humans…or for filth.” 

Wanda shakes her head and Bennett lets go. 

WANDA: “I’ll die first.” 

MALICE: “No. You won’t.” 

Exodus and Malice’s eyes both glow, and Wanda screams. 

In Laura’s cell, she continues to lay unconscious. Until she suddenly jolts awake. 

AKIHIRO, standing over her: “I was really hoping it wouldn’t come to this. But I guess you’ll always be your father’s daughter.” 

When Laura doesn’t respond, only glaring back, Akihiro tells her they always knew what she was doing. Lady Akabba tells him everything. But still, it was fun training her while it lasted. 

Laura looks away. 

AKIHIRO: “I can see it, you know. You being the ultimate weapon. If you’d just let go of the idea that it’s all you’re meant to be, I’m not even sure I could stop you. You’ll never be normal. But you’ll also never be what they wanted you to be.” 

Laura seethes. She then sniffs, picking something up. Laura looks back at Death. 

LAURA: “And I wasn’t lying.” 

Akihiro questions what she’s referring to. Laura sardonically explains that her understanding where he’s coming from wasn’t an act. If Logan really did what Akihiro said, she gets his rage. 

LAURA: “But Logan’s here. I smell him.” 

AKIHIRO, mockingly: “And you think I just need to hear his side of things to hug him and call him Daddy?” 

LAURA: “I think I need to hear. Then I can choose which of you I kill when I’m free.” 

AKIHIRO: “And what makes you think you’re ever getting free?”

LAURA: “Because…” she trails off, choked up. “Sofia may have lied about sharing my feelings. But she still loves me.” Laura forces a smirk. “And you woke me up for a reason.” 

Akihiro thinks, circling his tongue around his mouth. 

AKIHIRO: “I’ll think about it. For now…” With his pheremones, Akihiro puts Laura back to sleep. “There’s another brat I need to chat with.” 

In a low-end, New York City bar, we catch up with Roberto, who’s cheered on as he wins a round of darts with a bullseye. He sticks out like a sore thumb in this environment, wearing a three-piece suit. 

ROBERTO, blowing kisses: “Thank you! Thank you! You’re all too kind!” 

His disgruntled opponent pulls out his wallet and gets the money together to pay him for their bet, but Beto assures him that isn’t necessary. 

ROBERTO: “Next round is on me!” 

The whole bar cheers even louder. 

PATRON #1: “Doesn’t he seem to be a little too yuppy to be hanging out here?”

PATRON #2: “He kinda reminds me of those rich guys from the movies who like to kidnap and kill people.”

PATRON #3: “Both of you, shut up. He’s paying, and I’m not complaining.” 

Roberto sits down in a booth, where, on his phone, he has a million missed calls and texts from Monet. Most of Monet’s texts are monosyllabic and vaguely threatening, and one of them is just a picture of her glaring at him with a raised eyebrow. 

Beto rubs his forehead, as he thinks back to the ultimatum he received last episode. He buries his face in his hands. 

BETO: “What would you do, Papa?” 

As the door to the bar is opened, someone wearing black and red high-heels steps in. One guy hollars, only to get slapped by his friend; where does he think he is? 

PATRON #3: “Hey Bobby, she a friend of yours?” 

Beto picks his head up. He should have known he couldn’t hide from Monet. 

Sunspot gets up, only as he does so, everyone else in the bar disappears. 

BETO: “What the…?” 

“I thought we could use some privacy.” 

Beto’s eyes widen in horror as the woman who’s entered the bar reveals herself. Along with her black and red heels, which perfectly complement her long, flowing red hair, she wears a bright green business suit with gold shoulder-pads, a gold belt, and various gold and emerald jewelry. 

JEAN, smiling sweetly: “Hello, Roberto. It’s nice to see you again.” 

In the school’s medical bay, Kitty and Illyana stand by as Danger treats Kurt, with assistance from Melody Guthrie. 

DANGER: “She wants to be a nurse, and began aiding me after the riot. Isn’t that sweet?” 

YANA, still brooding: “Like a pony.” 

Kitty is a little more supportive and gives Aero a smile and a pat on the shoulder, as Melody leaves to get something. 

KITTY, sitting down next to Yana: “You still wanna talk?” 

MAGIK: “Not really. Feel like I should say something though.” 

KITTY, holding her hand: “What’s up?” 

Yana takes a deep breath. 

YANA: “How would you feel if I went away again?”

Kitty’s immediately worried by the question, and demands that she be direct with her. Magik sighs and explains that she’s just not sure what she’s really doing here. Yes, she’s with her friends, and fighting to protect Mutants but…

YANA: “The only times I’m not sad are when I’m with you.” She summons the anti-soulsword. “I’m not a demon. But I’m barely a Mutant either. My body doesn’t feel right, food doesn’t taste right. I thought I could handle being…this…but I can’t.” 

Kitty’s so sorry. But she’s also really glad Yana is at least able to come out with this on her own. She used to have to practically force it out of her when she was a teenager. 

KITTY: “Right now…right now, just know that, whatever you are, I love you. Because no matter what, you’re still Magik.” Yana weakly smiles. “I’m sorry we haven’t been able to do more for you. We haven’t had a chance to breathe lately. But we’re about to beat the Horsemen, and when we do, we can take the deepest breath of our lives, and save Wanda. And if it’s what you want…” 

YANA: “She has the power to fix me.” 

Kitty hugs Yana, promising they’ll get through this. Then maybe Yana can finally take her out on a real date. 

YANA, getting red: “Me…taking you out?” 

KITTY: “I know what you want.” 

Yana’s face flickers between peace and distress. 

“Hi Ms. Pryde!” 

Kitty and Yana untangle as Foxx enters the medical bay. She heard Nightcrawler was here, and she wanted to make sure he’s okay. 

FOXX: “He was one of my favorite teachers. Blue solidarity and all.” 

KITTY: “That’s sweet, Foxx, but you can’t be here right now. I’ll ask Kurt to come see you later, okay?” 

FOXX: “Hmm. Okay. So he hasn’t even woken up yet?” 

KITTY: “Afraid not. Don’t worry, he will soon.” 

FOXX, smiling: “Cool.” 

As Foxx leaves, Magik asks Kitty if she’s talked to that girl about kissing Bling! yet , with Kitty replying that right now, she’s just worried about where Bling! is. 

The camera follows Foxx into the hallway as she pulls out her phone and sends a text. 

FOXX, texting: “Nightcrawler is unconscious. He hasn’t said anything.” 

“BABY DICTATOR”: “Make sure he doesn’t.” 

Foxx grins maliciously. 

We cut to the past, where Apocalypse is training a newly recruited Akihiro in his arena. As the two duel, Apocalypse complements the Muramasa blade; next to his own, it is one of the finest he has seen. 

Apocalypse guts Akihiro, and kicks him to the ground. 

APOCALYPSE: “But its side effects are unfortunate.” 

Akihiro pants as he heals, saying that the sword doesn’t change anything. 

AKIHIRO: “It is as you said. Death is all I am. It is all I need to be.” 

APOCALYPSE: “Correct. But being Death is something to relish. Not something to have infringed upon you.” 

AKIHIRO, standing: “Listen, my lord, me and Muramasa are on the same damn page. The world is worthless, and everyone in it deserves to die.” 

Apocalypse grumbles. He grabs Akihiro’s head and makes him scream, as his skin is completely covered in scars, and his eyes are gouged out. 

APOCALYPSE: “You birth family. The Hand. Romulus. They have all hurt you. They have all fed your hatred. And hatred can be a powerful tool, but it is not the strongest one there is.” Apocalypse makes Akihiro scream again, reversing his last procedure. “I do not hate humanity. No more than they hate the flies they swat at. True stregnth…” 

AKIHIRO, interrupting, still in pain: “Please do not say it comes from love.” 

APOCALYPSE, smiling: “I could say something else. But I would be lying. Hate only drives you to kill your enemies. Love drives you to do whatever comes after.” Apocalypse tightens his grip on Akihiro, before letting go. “You have never known love.” 

Akihiro doesn’t respond. Apocalypse slightly crushes his skull, prompting him to spit out that that is correct. He values his lord’s words, but he is not capable of love. Nor is he capable of being loved. 

Akihiro braces himself for more pain, but Apocalypse lets him go. 

APOCALYPSE: “I am not here to be your parent. You are here to serve. But I see your worth. If you persevere and prove yourself, I will grant you all that I have to offer. You will have the respect you earn. Once you know respect, from within and from others, love will come.” Apocalypse turns his back and walks away. “And when you do find one you love, show all their enemies the power of Death.” 

As Apocalypse exits, Akihiro collapses, panting. 

In the present, we remain in the arena, as Akihiro screams, kicking Julian into a wall. Julian wakes up, still wearing a power dampening collar, with everything aching. Seeing Death, he processes what’s going on, and stands. 

JULIAN, panting: “Where…is she?” 

AKIRHIO, Muramasa in hand: “You mean Lady Akabba? Visiting Lord Apocalypse. She’s about to wake him up and take over the world. Big day.” 

Hellion tries to power up, but groans as he notices his collar. 

AKIHIRO: “Sorry. Death fears no one, but I still wasn’t taking any chances.” 

Julian gets further pissed, knowing now that this is Laura’s creepy brother. Akihiro can’t deny either part of that description. 

Hellion clenches his metal fists. He knows he’s a powerless prisoner and he’s up against a Horseman. But that isn’t an excuse not to try. 

Julian rushes Akihiro, who licks his lips. Death swings at Hellion’s head, but Julian barely slides underneath Muramasa, only losing a few hairs. The X-Man then jumps out of the way as Akihiro brings his sword down on him. 

AKIHIRO, not seriously chasing and swinging at Julian: “You must be curious why I have you here.” 

JULIAN, barely dodging despite Akihiro’s lack of care: “Nope! Just thinking about knocking your head off!” 

Hellion gets kicked upside the head, launching him up into the air before he crashes back down. 

AKIHIRO: “Same powers and more as your friend. It would just grow back.” 

As Julian struggles to stand, Death explains to him that he wanted to have a chat. To reach an understanding before everything changes. 

AKIHIRO: “For reasons I can’t fathom, Lady Akabba still loves your boyish face. And she intends to–”

JULIAN, cutting him off: “Sofia.” BEAT. “Her name is Sofia.” 

AKIHIRO, grinning: “Not anymore it isn’t.” Julian attacks him, but Akihiro casually dances around his punches. “ She is Lady Akabba. War. The daughter of Apocalypse.” 

Death slices an “X” across Julian’s chest,before backhanding him away. He can’t get back up this time. 

AKIHIRO: “And despite what she thinks, she no longer has a use for you. You are beneath her. So if you want what’s best for her, when she offers you the opportunity to rule at her side, you will decline. And you will bear the honor of dying at her hand.” 

Julian grunts, scratching his hands against the ground. 

JULIAN: “What…did you do to her?” 

AKIHIRO: “I only gave a push in the direction.” He presses the tip of Muramasa against Julian’s forehead, drawing blood. “Do we have an understanding?” 

Julian is pissed, but forces himself to grin up at Death. 

JULIAN: “I don’t know a ton about what’s going on right now…but she’s not gonna fuck you, man.” 

Death is incensed. We pan away as he does something else to make Hellion scream. 

Elsewhere in the base, Hellion’s screams transition into Wanda’s, as Exodus and Malice continue to psychically torture her. 

EXODUS: “I don’t know what Pestillence is seeing in there. Frankly, I do not care enough to look. All that matters is the power you do not deserve.” 

WANDA, still able to speak on the physical plane despite her mind being invaded by Malice: “What…are you talking about?” 

EXODUS: “We Mutants were chosen by the lord. In that way, we are all special. But your connection to the chaos force was born of sheer luck. When you build my new world, it will no longer exist.” 

WANDA, struggling to hold in her screams, but standing strong: “It does not matter what you do to me. I will not grant you want you seek.” 

EXODUS: “What you want is irrelevant. I am the strongest. And the strong always get what they want.” 

Bennett turns up the psychic torture, making Scarlet Witch scream again. 

We flash back to the past. 

One year ago, a nude Bennett steps out of a steamy, ornate shower. He clears the fog from his mirror with his telekinesis and begins brushing his hair and drying himself off with his telekinesis as well. 

As Exodus does this, he can’t help but admire his own attractiveness. He feels and strokes his own muscles. And then imagines someone else doing the same. Turning his head, a young knight in black stands behind him, smiling innocently as he massages Exodus. 

Bennett at first appears at peace. He then cringes and shouts, destroying his bathroom with a telekinetic wave. 

EXODUS: “No! No. I have purged myself of this sin. I cannot fall to it now.” 

“You have been fighting this battle for centuries, and still have not achieved victory.” 

Exodus sneers as Apocalypse appears in his cracked mirror. 

APOCALYPSE: “Are you not ready to yield?” 

Exodus spins around and fires a massive energy blast at Apocalypse, destroying part of his own home. Apocalypse merely reaches his hand out to disintigeate Exodus’ attacks, as he fires a speared tentacle out of his stomach to skewer Bennett, and pull him in close to him. 

EXODUS, gasping for life: “I…will kill you.” 

APOCALYPSE: “Another mission you have had for centuries, and another you will never achieve.”

Apocalypse shoves Exodus off his tentacle and onto the floor. 

APOCALYPSE: “You will never defeat me. Just as you will never cease to hunger for the taste of the first you killed in my name.” 

Exodus shouts again, launching an energy blast aout of his bleeding mouth, but Apocalypse puts a quick stop to that as he gets on top of Bennett, mounting him, and forcefully covers his mouth with his hand. 

APOCALYPSE: “I require new Horsemen. And you, my once trusted Crusader, are whom I believe to be the fittest of Mutantkind’s present crop. The rest of the world’s Mutants are weak and soft in their own ways. But you are of another world. Another time. And you were built by me.” 

Apocalypse’s eyes glow back as he attacks Bennett’s mind. 

APOCALYPSE: “But before I upgrade you, my creation.” Exodus struggles, but can’t do anything to get Apocalypse off of him. “I will purge you of your weaknesses.” 

Bennett is completely afraid. 

Back at the bar, Roberto isn’t sure what to do in the presence of Jean. Jean, however, has no fear or anxiety, and hugs Beto. 

JEAN: “I’ve missed you.” 

BETO, even more confused: “I guess you’re not here to blow me up then.” 

JEAN, pulling back: “We didn’t get to spend much time together on the X-Men, but it was never difficult to see the gentleness in your heart.” 

Jean smiles warmly, allowing Beto to breathe and smile back. 

BETO: “I’m guessing the Phoenix Force isn’t just here for a social call though.” 

Jean holds her arm out to be able. 

JEAN: “Please. Sit.” 

Beto turns his head and sees that a whole buffet of food has appeared where there was nothing moments ago. 

BETO: “You really can do anything now, huh?”

JEAN: “It’s just simple molecule manipulation.” Jean sits. “And don’t worry, the other patrons are all still alive.” 

BETO: “Nice to know.” 

Jean asks how Beto is first. Beto cheekily responds that she probably already knows. 

JEAN: “Yes. But I’m trying to not forget all of my manners.” 

Sunspot gives the cliffnotes of her current position. He has no faith in Cyclops, Emma, and Magneto, something he’s sure Jean and himself are in agreement on, and is still trying to support them, while also making his own, better plans, but they’ve made clear they don’t want him if he isn’t committed. 

JEAN: “Isn’t the answer simple? Aren’t you more confident in yourself than them?” 

SUNSPOT: “I’m more confident in my ability to protect us. I’m not confident I’ll like who doing so makes me.” 

JEAN: “Not surprising. There are many shades of Erik and Emma in your plans.” Jean consumes a steak by tapping it with her finger and absorbing it into herself. “I’m so disappointed in Magneto. I didn’t think he’d be overrun so easily by the others.” Jean snaps her fingers. “That’s not how I’m supposed to eat here.” 

As Jean picks up a fork to eat a salad, Beto acknowledges their ideas aren’t all bad. The problem is the people themselves. Of course, they’re far from the worst people. 

BETO: “Could you imagine what my father would have done with the power of an Omega-level Mutant?”

JEAN: “We can ask him if you’d like.” 

BETO, unsure if she’s serious: “Umm…no thank you.” 

JEAN, shrugging: “This is tasty. I should grow my own food more often.” 

Jean tells Beto that she never knew his father, she’s only heard stories. But from what she’s seen, Beto could never be like him. 

BETO: “Big words from you.” 

JEAN: “They aren’t all I have for you. I was drawn here by the machinations of an old friend of yours. John Sublime.” 

Beto curses in Spanish, before Jean tells him it’s fine; he’s finally dead, and she stopped what he was planning. 

JEAN: “However, I wasn’t entirely successful in what I sought to do.” 

BETO: “I didn’t think you could make mistakes anymore.” 

JEAN: “I can’t. But I also can’t always stop others from making them.” 

At the table next to theirs, Beto sees Celeste, Phoebe, and Mindee, eating in silence, with cold eyes and shaking hands. 

BETO: “The Cuckoos? What happened? Why are there only–?” 

He bangs the table, not even needing to finish his question to know the answer. 

JEAN: “I tried to save Esme. I did. But there was nothing I could do.” 

As Beto beats himself up, knowing that, whatever happened, the Cuckoos wouldn’t have even been involved if they hadn’t let the riot happen, Jean tells him not to despair. 

JEAN: “I’d like to ask you for a few favors.” 

In Clan Akabba’s lair, Dust knocks on the door of Sofia’s bedroom. Classical music is heard from the bedroom. 

SOFIA: “Enter.” 

The guards at her door open the entrance for Sooraya, who steps forward to find Sofia, seated on her bed, waving her finger along to the music. 

SOORAYA: “You wished to see me, So…Lady Akabba?” 

SOFIA, getting up, in a good mood: “You are a part of my inner circle, Dust. War is fine.” 

War has both good news and bad news for Sooraya. 

SOFIA: “Thanks to the Celestial implant I gave her, your mother just woke up, and is on the verge of a miraculous, full recovery.” 

Sooraya presses her hands to her heart and says a swift prayer. 

SOORAYA: “Thank you so much. May I go see her?” 

Sofia’s face falls. This is where the bad news comes in. 

SOFIA: “Some X-Men found us. We apprehended most of them, but Nightcrawler got away. There is a chance Cyclops and his team will come next, and before our plan is put into place.” Sooraya gets nervous, and Sofia picks up on this, floating over to her. “I will not make you fight them if you do not feel you are ready. Making you fight when you are not fit for battle would be foolish. If you would like, you may leave right now and go see your mother. I would like you at my side when I create our paradise, but it is your choice. And it is one you must make now.” 

Sooraya hangs her out, taking a moment to think. Until…

SOORAYA: “May I ask a question?”

SOFIA: “Anything.” 

SOORAYA, shooting Sofia a hard stare: “Did Apocalypse offer you choices like this?” 

The question catches Lady Akabba off guard, but she keeps herself together. 

SOFIA: “Yes. He did. Father never forced me to do anything. He only encouraged what was in my best interest.”

SOORAYA, demure, yet skeptical: “I see. And you don’t regret any of them?” 

Sofia fails to maintain her composure this time, as she cringes. 

We flash back to this bedroom, several months ago, where Apocalypse meditates, hovering above his bed. 

While Apocalypse is trying to experience a moment of peace, it becomes clear he isn’t going to get it, as War floats behind him on her side, in a loose fitting yellow and white dress. 

Apocalypse tries to ignore her as she casually flits around the room, but his frustration grows as he grumbles. 

APOCALYPSE: “May I help you?” 

SOFIA: “I am bored. I wish to train.” 

APOCALYPSE: “I am meditating. Challenge Famine.” 

SOFIA: “I don’t want to train with Famine.” 

Apocalypse lets out a deep sigh, making Sofia giggle. 

APOCALYPSE: “Do you know why I am meditating?”

SOFIA: “I once made a video about how it is good for your skin. But I doubt that is what this is.”

Apocalypse explains that he is attempting to heal his internal injuries, and regain some of his lost strength. 

APOCALYPSE: “In my current condition, I estimate myself to possess strength similar to that of my original Horsemen. Tolerable, but not ideal.” 

SOFIA, face filling with guilt: “Oh. I see.” Sofia sits down on the bed. “I won’t bother you then.” 

Apocalypse returns to his meditation. But although the room is silent, Sofia’s thoughts aren’t. 

APOCALYPSE: “What?” 

SOFIA, exploding out of her seat: “You know what! It’s my fault you’re like this! You’re this injured and weakened because I wasn’t strong enough on my own.” Sofia shakes with guilt. “If you had never met me, no one, not the X-Men, not humanity, would have stood any chance of stopping you from achieving our dream.” 

Apocalypse takes a few moments to respond. 

APOCALYPSE: “Yes.” 

SOFIA: “Yes?! And?!” 

APOCALYPSE: “And I enjoy your company more than any I have had for the past century, so I do not regret my choice. I have faced 4,000 years of set-backs. This is just another.” 

SOFIA, with a pained smile: “You really aren’t upset?” 

APOCALYPSE: “I am. But I am not going to blame you for matters outside your control. I am your father, not the worm who gave you your first life.” He pauses to admire Sofia as her smile warms up. “Do you doubt that we are strong enough to destroy all who stand against us?” 

SOFIA, shaking her head: “No. I do not.” 

APOCALYPSE: “Then there are no problems.” 

Apocalypse attempts once more to meditate, only to be hit with a burst of fire from behind, knocking him back. 

He glares at Sofia as she smirks at him. 

SOFIA: “I know that we are strong enough to defeat anyone. But I believe your full current strength should be tested. Wouldn’t you agree?” 

Apocalypse momentarily looks pissed, before laughing and smiling at her. 

APOCALYPSE: “You are so strange.” 

The camera pans out, moving out of the bedroom. War laughs and screams as the sounds of their fight are heard. 

In the present, Sofia has an answer for Sooraya. 

SOFIA: “No. I have no regrets.” 

Cyclops, Emma, and Magneto arrive back in the school, dramatically entering the foyer. Kitty lets Emma know telepathically that everyone’s together in the Mission Room. 

As the three headmasters make their way there, Pixie and Blindfold take notice of them. 

MEGAN, blowing up obnoxiously large bubbles with her bubblegum: “What are they in such a hurry for?” 

RUTH: “I believe the time has come for this semester’s battle between the X-Men and those who seek to damn us all.” 

MEGAN: “Uh, what do you mean, “this semester’s, Blindy”?” 

RUTH: “Please don’t talk to me.” 

Scott, Emma, and Erik arrive in the Mission Room, where they find Kitty, Magik, Dani, Warpath, Cannonball, Karma, and Wolfsbane all waiting. 

SCOTT: “Alright, X-Men. Listen up. We know where the Horsemen are. And it’s time we–” 

Sam interrupts Scott, apologizing, but wondering where Sunspot is. 

EMMA: “We gave Roberto a choice regarding his future on this team. From the fact he is currently blocking out my telepathy, it appears he’s made his decision. Understood?” 

None of the New Mutants look happy about whatever went on, but now’s not the time to dwell. 

“Let’s get to the battle plan.” 

Scott turns, and is surprised to see one more face: Iceman. 

ICEMAN, shaking Cyclops’ hand: “Heard we were finally doing this.” 

SCOTT, barely smiling: “Glad you’re here. Sit down.” 

The headmasters fill in everyone on what they know. The Horsemen’s base is located directly underneath their previous one. They know what to expect from Lady Akabba, Exodus, Malice, and Akihiro by now. The wins the Horsemen have scored against them were thanks to their surprises, but there shouldn’t be any more of those. Still, don’t forget that there are still no doubt other villains they’ve faced in the past working for them. 

SCOTT: “They have our kids. Every one of our X-Men in Training has been taken.” Dani is clearly pissed. “They have Logan, Storm, and Colossus.” Kitty is enraged. “And they have Scarlet Witch. I don’t know what they’ve been waiting for, but if we don’t act now, they will use her to rewrite everything.” Erik shuts his eyes. 

SCOTT: “Dani, these are your students, and I know you’ve been wanting this. Welcome to the X-Men.” 

Dani nods affirmatively. Magik pats her on the back. 

SCOTT: “Kitty, Magik, you’re obviously with us. The rest of you are staying here.” 

This comment causes an uproar among the others, who all want to fight, but Magneto orders them all to settle down and behave like adults.

ERIK: “Even if some of you barely are ones.” 

Rahne growls at him. 

Bobby demands to know what Scott’s doing. 

BOBBY: “I come back out here, I’m the biggest gun you’ve got, and Warren and Brian need me to get justice for them, and you’re benching me?!” 

Scott tells him that it’s because he’s their biggest gun that he can’t come with them. Look they already have, now look who he’s taking. 

SCOTT: “If you come with us and we fail, there’s no one left who’s capable of stopping them.” He puts a hand on Iceman’s shoulder. “If we go down, it’s up to you. Got it?” 

Bobby doesn’t like it, but he gets it and agrees. 

EMMA: “Our hypothetical back-up squad will also require a leader.” She turns her head. “James. Ideally we won’t give you the chance to, but don’t let us down.” 

Warpath is more than a little surprised they picked him over Bobby or Sam. 

MAGNETO: “Don’t be. You’ve earned it.” 

WARPATH, proudly nodding: “You’ve got it.” 

CYCLOPS: “Okay then. To me, my X-Men!” 

Kitty, Magik, and Dani gather around the three headmasters, with Magik teleporting the six of them away in a stepping disc. 

Underground, Akihiro stalks through the cells, cleaning Julian’s blood off his hands. 

“Death!” 

Akihiro raises an eyebrow at the sound of who’s calling his name. He turns to find Dust walking him from behind. 

AKIHIRO, dismissively: “Something I can help you with?” 

He doesn’t even pay attention to her, turning his attention to cleaning himself off. 

SOORAYA, put off: “I am friends with your “lady”. Should you not be more respectful?” 

Aki laughs and looks up at her. 

AKIHIRO: “You’re bold. Stupid, but bold. How can I help you, Dust?” 

Sooraya is momentarily distracted by the blood on Akihiro’s hands before she answers. 

SOORAYA: “I am about to leave to visit my mother in the hospital. Before I left, I wanted to thank you.” 

AKIHIRO: “For what?”

SOORAYA: “You found Leper Queen. If you hadn’t been able to do that so quickly, Laura and I would be dead right now. So…thank you for saving our lives.” 

The concept of being thanked for actually preventing death is one that’s clearly foreign to Akihiro from the look on his face, but she shakes it off. 

AKIHIRO: “It was Lady Akabba’s will, so it was done.” 

DUST: “You mean you do not care if Laura dies? I doubt that.” 

AKIHIRO: “It’s not up to me. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s someone I need to go see who’s definitely going to die.” 

Aki turns around to go see Logan, but…

DUST: “I want to speak to Storm before I go.” 

AKIHIRO, still walking away: “Unless War gave you permission, that’s not happening.” 

DUST: “Did she give you permission to torture her king?” 

That stops Akihiro in his tracks. 

AKIHIRO: “How did you…”

He trails off as all the sand particles on the floor hover into the air. 

SOORAYA: “We are in the desert, Death. There is nothing here I cannot see, and nothing I cannot hear.” 

Akihiro resumes walking after a moment. 

AKIHIRO: “You get two minutes. But I promise, if this is a trick, it won’t matter to me who your friends are.” 

Dust finnesses some of the sand particles delicately into Akihiro’s hair. 

DUST: “That won’t be a problem. Thank you.”

In the bar, as Jean eats a Phoenix-themed sunday, she tells Sunspot what she needs from him. First, he needs to take the Cuckoos home. These girls have suffered so much and, much as she hates to admit, Scott and Emma are who they need right. 

BETO, taking a guess: “And you don’t want to have to explain the situation to them yourself because…that would mean talking to them.” 

Jean pops a cherry in her mouth and sucks on it. 

JEAN: “The other favor is a little more involved, and I’ll understand if you aren’t up to it?” 

BETO AND JEAN (who knows exactly what Beto will say): “Roberto Da Costa is up for anything.” 

Beto glares at her. Jean looks back warmly, telling him there’s no point with the bravado around her. He can relax. 

BETO: “Not something I’ve been good at since hitting puberty, I’m afraid.”

JEAN, leaning in and resting her hand on Beto’s arm: “I need you…to keep doing what you’re doing.” Beto raises an eyebrow. “For me.” 

Beto doesn’t understand. Jean explains that she completely shares his fears over Cyclops and Emma screwing everything up for both Mutantkind and humanity and, at this stage, she has just as little confidence in Magneto. 

JEAN: “Maybe even less.” 

Jean knows he’s been building his own operation, with the help of some of his old friends, and some old enemies. All for the purpose of protecting Mutants, should the X-Men fail. 

JEAN: “Skimming your mind, it’s a solid plan. But wouldn’t it be so much better if, instead of just a contingency plan for after the fact, you had a way to actually stop them?” 

ROBERTO: “I’m listening.” 

Jean finishes her sunday by abrosbing it into herself, as he levitates herself, and levitates Beto onto his feet. 

Energy swirls around Jean, shaking the ground and making the lights flicker, as she groans in mild pain. She pants as she completes her task, releasing a tall, flaming crystal from her pointer finger, with it sitting on her finger delicately on its tip. 

PHOENIX: “This is a Phoenix Shard. It is a piece of my essence. Cute, isn’t it?” 

ROBERTO: “You’re giving me a piece of you?” 

PHOENIX: “No. I’m going to implant it in your heart.” 

Jean explains that once this is inside him, he will no longer be among the weakest X-Men. He won’t be among the strongest either, but he will be able to hold his own. It will bring out his full potential. 

JEAN: “And, just once, when the time comes that the X-Men must be stopped in their tracks from making a grave error, it will give you the ability to fufill any singular miracle necessary to stop them. It will then burn out after that use, and all the power will slip away, And, if you use it for selfish or malicious reasons, thinking you can go behind my back, it will also incinerate your heart.” 

Beto looks into the Phoenix Shard, captivated by how free the flames dance within their confined space. He takes a moment to think. 

BETO, standing tall and popping his collar: “It would have been nice working more with you, Jean Grey.” 

JEAN, grinning: “Is that a yes?” 

BETO, nodding: “Yes It is.” 

JEAN; “Good. And don’t worry. We will work together again.” 

Jean raises her finger, the crystal not moving or falling as she does so. She slowly sticks it inside Roberto’s chest, making him scream, and lighting up the bar. 

Cyclops, Emma, Magneto, Kitty, Magik, and Dani appear in the desert via stepping disc. They’re ready for battle, with Scott already having a blast ready to fire, Emma in her diamond form, and Magik and Dani with their weapons drawn. 

CYCLOPS: “Stay alert, X-Men. Emma, can Kitty phase us here, or do we need to move?” 

Before Emma can answer, a furious wind blows sand all around the X-Men, and into their faces. As everyone coughs, Kitty grabs onto them to phase them through the sandstorm. Emma and Magneto don’t wait any longer to use telekinesis and magnetism to clear the storm. 

When the sandstorm is cleared, the X-Men turn their attention to the highly-visible figure responsible for it. Dressed in her full armor, Lady Akabba stands before them. 

WAR: “X-Men. I am glad you are here. Claiming victory while you still stand would have felt wrong.” 

Dani doesn’t hesitate to fire a spirit arrow at War’s head, but Lady Akabba casually draws her sword and deflects it in the same motion. Dani’s eyes are wet and intense. 

LADY AKABBA: “I see we are getting straight to the point then.” 

DANI: “You murdered two of our students. You aren’t walking away from this.” 

BEAT

LADY AKABBA: “I wasn’t expecting to see you today, Ms. Moonstar. As I am the only reason Selene didn’t snap you like a twig, I believe gratitude is in order.”

DANI: “What the Hell are you talking about?” 

Before War can answer, Cyclops fires a mid-level blast at Lady Akabba, which she flies into the air to avoid. 

SCOTT: “We know you aren’t how you present yourself. We know you’re just the latest kid Apocalypse brainwashed, just with a god complex. You can’t fight all of us. Call out your Horsemen, or surrender.” 

BEAT

Lady Akabba laughs. She laughs more and more, as her voice fluctuates between her natural one and her modulated one. 

LADY AKABBA: “Oh, Mr. Summers. How is it you can have plans and contingencies for everything…” War reaches behind her head and undoes the clasps of her helmet. She takes it off and shakes her glossy brown hair, revealing herself as Sofia. “And yet you couldn’t see what was right in front of you?”

Scott, Emma, Kitty, and Magik are all shocked. Dani pulls her hands to her mouth, tears escaping her eyes, horrified. 

Magik is the first to get over her shock, charging up mystical energy in her hand as she roars. 

SOFIA, smirking: “Emma, take them out.” 

The psychic command implanted in Emma’s mind back at the beach activates, forcing her to comply. She psy-blasts the other X-Men without restraint, before collapsing. Illyana and Dani are knocked out by the blasts, but Magneto is protected by his helmet, and while Cyclops and Kitty are forced to their knees, their red triangles are strong enough to keep them awake. 

Cyclops fires a much larger blast than before at Sofia, which she meets in mid-aid with a wave of flames. 

SCOTT: “Magneto, take her down!” 

Erik nods. And then knocks out Kitty with a magnetic blast. 

SCOTT: “What?!” 

Magneto then knocks out Cyclops as well. 

Sofia giggles as Magneto hangs his head in shame, removes his helmet, and kneels. 

LADY AKABBA: “Well done, Magneto.” She lands right in front of him. “You have no idea how good it feels to have you at my feet.” 

ERIK, cringing: “The X-Men are defeated. My life is forfeit. And in exchange…”

SOFIA: “Your children may have a bumpy ride getting there, but they will all survive into my new world.” 

As Erik struggles with what he’s done, Lady Akabba backhands him to knock him out. 

We flash back to months ago to a rarely seen mansion, where Walter Barrett is annoyed, as he’s forced to get dressed in the middle of the night, and return to the office to take care of something. 

WALTER: “Derek, get the card ready! We need to be there fast. These damn, incompotent…” 

Walter trails off as he’s startled, entering the foyer of his home, to find Sofia, dressed in normal clothes, but with her new sword on her waist, and her blue skin visible. 

SOFIA: “Hello, Walter.” 

WALTER: “Sofia?! What is the meaning of this?! You nearly gave me a damn heart attack!” 

SOFIA, grinning and floating up to him: “I am sorry.” 

WALTER: “If you’re here to take me up on my offer, you’re far too late. Especially if that new pigment of yours is permanent.” 

SOFIA, shaking her head: “I am not here for your home or money.” Sofia blows him away, forcing him against the wall. He tries to scream, but she prevents the sound of his voice from traveing anywhere. “I already have more than you could ever offer.” 

Walter, terrified and whimpering, asks what she’s doing. She can’t just come in here and murder him. 

SOFIA: “I studied English more recently than you. Murder is also known as homocide because  it is the killing of someone by another of their kind. That is not what is happening here.” Walter screams as she slashes his face with the air. “This is the beginning of an extermination. And I cannot think of anywhere better to start.” 

Walter pleads and begs for his life, clearly amusing Sofia, and each time he tries to call for help, Sofia crushes the soundwaves in mid-air. 

SOFIA: “Think of what you could have had if you weren’t such a worthless worm. My mother. Me. And all of this to enjoy with us in a long, happy life. Instead, you will die here, surrounded by your riches, alone and unloved by anyone.” She grips his throat and chokes him. “I am not your daughter. But if there is anything you have ever wanted to tell me, say it now.” 

As Walter’s face weakens, it seems like he may actually have some heartfelt final words. Instead…

WALTER: “Yes. I should never have fucked that damn who–!” 

Sofia squeezes her hand, and pops Walter’s head off. 

Sofia is shaken by the act, freezing up for a moment, and looking at the blood all over her. This took more out of her than expected. 

“Sofia?” 

In a daze, and with her instincts kicking in, Sofia spins around, swinging her sword. Only to realize in horror that she just sliced through Derek ‘s chest. 

SOFIA, as Derek falls over: “No.” 

DEREK, on the floor and bleeding out, reaching out a hand: “Sofia…please help me.” 

Sofia institucally moves to take his hand, but stops herself as she catches her reflection in her sword. She steels herself as she pulls her hand back and stands tall. 

SOFIA: “I almost forgot myself. How weak of me. To almost value the life of a man so worthless he devotes it to a man he hates.” She points her palm down at him. “Thank you for taking care of Sofia. But that service is no longer needed.” 

We cut away as Sofia releases her flames. 

In the present, Surge finally wakes up, seated at the dining room table in Clan Akabba’s face. 

NORI: “What the Hell was that…nightmare?” 

Cessily and Roxy wake up as well, neither remembering how they got here. 

And Julian and Laura are each woken up a second time, as they all find themselves sitting around the same table, and with the same hostess. 

Lady Akabba, in an evening gown, sits at the head of a table, a lavish meal spread across the table, and Dust stood behind her lady. 

LADY AKABBA: “I know you all must be very confused, my friends. But fear not. I will show you all the way.” 

As Surge, Mercury, and Bling! are all in shock, Laura is pissed, and Julian is heartbroken. Elsewhere in the base, Akihiro is waking up Logan, Exodus and Malice are torturing Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch, Storm, Colossus, Dani, Kitty, and Magik are locked up, guarded by Greycrow and Riptide, and Cyclops, Emma, and Magneto are chained to the walls of Lady Akabba’s throneroom. 

With victory at hand, Sofia ttriumphantly takes a sip of wine. 

TO BE CONTINUED…

[offrozenmemoirs]

"it's a lullaby. would you like me to sing it to you? would that help you fall asleep?" / Juniper -> Creed

400 Random Dialogue Prompts || Accepting! @allthatisleftinthedark

"Mn? I s'pose so. Never really got any lullabies to put me to sleep as a kid."

The tiefling yawns, staring up at the starry sky. To her credit, she was tired, but it's one of those nights where she doesn't want to sleep. Too many bad dreams for her liking. She doesn't like the idea of being subjected to more weird dreams, of imagining old friends she hasn't seen in years, or being dragged back to House Zarin, kicking and screaming. She doesn't want to imagine herself becoming an archfiend, ruling some shitty corner in Avernus, making a living on causing misery to those desperate enough to reach out to the hells for some sort of relief or power.

"D'ya ever wish you could be a star? I mean...Bein' up there, away from all the worries of life. It'd be nice. Though, I s'pose that means I'd be givin' up a lotta things I like too."

Creed thinks about Estranha, and her heart aches. She did love the other, but she doesn't know how to say it, to express it. She's so worried about fucking things up that she can't imagine herself living without them. Would Estranha even feel the same way? Would they be okay with dealing with all the baggage that comes with her family, or rather, her brother.

"Y'know, I don't even remember what my mother looked like. Hasn't even been that long since she died, I think...But, I never saw her around much. By the time I finally came back home, my brother had her and my father's portraits burned. House Zarin isn't overly caring about memories related to pictures. We care about deeds."

As sad as it was, she didn't really see her biological mother as her mother. She would've had to actually parent her for that to be a thing. If anything, Rafan had been the closest thing to a mother, at least until she met Juniper. Though her sister would be the first to admit that she was unsuited to being a parental figure.

"You and Frazz are the closest thing I've ever had to mothers, besides Ramona and Rafan, anyhow."

She doesn't know why she's talking about all of this now, but she feels her head being lifted, and rested on Juniper's lap. It doesn't take long for the other to begin the lullaby, and Creed's eyes felt heavier.

"Mm...You wouldn't mind if I called you and Frazz mom sometime, would you?"

Against all odds, she actually looked peaceful as she drifted off to sleep, for the first time in a while.

[zenfulmockingbird]

Kiara: I dare you to kiss the next person who walks into this room. Vitani: Screw that, I’m not kissing any of you. *Chirin walks in* Vitani: Fine, I’ll do it. Rules are rules you know.

Kovu: So, are you two dating now? Vitani & Chirin: Yes. Kovu: Why? Vitani: I happen to find Chirin very appealing. Kovu: Yeah, I can understand that. I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with Chirin.

Chirin: What are you guys doing? Kiara: Like in life in general or- Vitani: Not much. Why, what's up? Chirin: I dunno, I’m bored playing AC. Vitani: Assassins Creed? Chirin: Animals Creed. Kiara: Assassins Crossing.

Chirin: So... In horror movies where flat tires stop people from running away... You can still drive with flat tires. It damages the tires and wheels and it's not safe at high speeds, but you can still drive away from a raving serial killer. Pro tip next time a knife wielding lunatic comes at you. Get in the car, you'll be fine. Kovu: Well, this would have been useful last night. Vitani: See, this is where people make the mistake. If the knife maniac is running straight at your car, slam it into reverse. You probably won't kill them but you might cause some damage, then drive. They'll be stopped and you can get away, and maybe they'll even be at the same spot to call the cops (And maybe the ambulance) on. Chirin: What a top notch addition to an already excellent statement! Kiara: ...Are we going to ignore how Kovu apparently had an encounter with a serial killer last night...?

Vitani: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me? Chirin: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it. Kiara: Three of us saw it, Chirin. How do you explain that? Chirin: *points at Kovu* Sleep deprivation. *points at Kiara* Paranoia. *points at Fuli* Delusional personality disorder.

Fuli: You're a lying piece of shit! Chirin: Oh yeah? You're the idiot that thinks you can get away with everything you do, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD! Kovu: I'm leaving and I'm taking Kiara with me! Vitani, gathering cards: Aaaaand that's enough Monopoly for today.

Vitani: Stressed. Chirin: Depressed. Kion: Possessed. Fuli: Obsessed. Kovu: Impressed. Kiara: Chicken breast. Everyone: ...What? Kiara: I just wanted to join in.

Kiara: I put the pun in punishment. Kion: I put the top in unstoppable. Vitani: I put the cute in execute. Fuli: I put the sexy in dyslexia. Chirin: I put the ass in class. Kovu: I put the D in Kiara.

[awakentrashpanda]

Starlight fam (My OCs) incorrect quotes

Sapphire: You know, studies show that keeping a ladder in the house is more dangerous than a loaded gun.

Sapphire: That's why I own TEN guns. (They’re water guns)

Sapphire: Just in case some maniac tries to sneak in with a ladder.

Monika: I think my guardian angel drinks.

Sun: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?

Sun: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies.

Adam: Socks are Feetie Heaties.

Victoria: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties.

Clarice: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies.

Monika: Stamps are Lickie Stickies.

Moon: I hate you guys so much.

Ki ki: *makes Sun a cup of tea but puts salt in it*

Victoria: *sips tea*

Ki ki:

Victoria: *finishes tea*

Ki ki: Didn't it taste bad?

Victoria: Yeah, but I didn't want to hurt your feelings so I drank it all.

Ki ki, tearing up: Oh, okay.

Sun: I’m here for the cult stuff.

Monika: How did you find us?

Sun: I saw your ad on craigslist.

Moon, at the Monika's funeral: I need a moment with them.

Everyone: Of course. *They leave*

Moon, leaning over her coffin: Okay, listen here you little heathen. I know you’re not dead.

Monika (as a ghost): Yeah, no crap.

Gi gi: What does “take out” mean?

Sapphire: Food.

Victoria: Dating.

Moon: Murder.

Monika: It can be all three if you’re brave enough.

Victoria: What are you guys doing?

Sun: Like in life in general or-

Adam: Not much. Why, what's up?

Victoria: I dunno, I’m bored playing AC.

Adam: Assassins Creed?

Victoria: Animals Creed.

Sun: Assassins Crossing.

Sun: Why would you give a knife to Victoria?!

Monika, shrugging: Tori felt unsafe.

Sun: Now I feel unsafe!

Monika: I’m sorry…

Monika: Would you like a knife?

Monika: Don't worry, I've got a few knives up my sleeve.

Sun: I think you mean cards.

Moon: They did not.

Monika, pulling out knives: I did not.

Gi gi: Is anyone going to tell me what's going on in here?!

Ki ki: It's kind of complicated, but Sapphire-

Gi gi: Got it. Forget I asked.

Sun, planning a group disguise: You cannot be Blake Bortles!

Sapphire: Fine! Then I’ll be Jake-

Monika, under their breath: Don’t say Jortles.

Sapphire: Jortles! And I work at the molotov cocktail department.

Victoria: *Gasp*

Clarice: wHAT??

Victoria: What if soy milk is just milk introducing itself in Spanish?

Clarice: *inhales*

Monika, in another room with Moon: Why can I hear sobbing?

Sora: I give up. I am so tired.

Moon: Get the emergency supply!

Adam: *carries Jack and places him in front of Sora*

Jack: *smiles*

Sora: *picks up Jack* Nevermind!

Moon: Is stabbing someone immoral?

Victoria: Not if they consent to it.

Monika: Depends on who your stabbing.

Adam: YES??!!?

Moon: Wake me up-

Victoria: Before you go go

Sapphire: When September ends

Ki ki: WAKE ME UP INSIDE

Moon: My stomach growled super loud in French.

Moon: I would like to clarify, my stomach did not speak in French. It growled during French class.

Sora: Bonjour.

Clarice: Le growl.

Monika: Hon hon hon, feed me a baguette.

*Comments under an image of a really hot knife cutting bread*

Sapphire: Imagine stabbing someone with this knife.

Moon: It would instantly cauterize the wound, so the person wouldn't bleed, so it's not very useful.

Monika: if you want information it is

Adam: why would you STAB a person when you can have TOAST?

Sun: *tapping fingers on table*

Ki ki: *taps fingers back furiously*

Gi gi: …What’s going on?

Jack: Morse code. They’re talking.

Sun: -... . .. -. --. / .- / -... .-. ..- - . / .-- --- -. .-..-. - / .-. . -....- .- .-.. .. ...- . / -- --- -. .. -.- .- / .- -. -.. / -.-. .-.. .- .-. .. -.-. .

Ki ki: *slams hands on table* YOU TAKE THAT BACK!

Monika, possessing Sun and singing to the tune of I kissed a girl: I killed a jerk and I liked it~

Jack, whispering: Should we call the exorcist?

Victoria singing along innocently: The taste of his cherry chapstick~

Sora, with a face of pure horror: Probably.

Sun: Everytime I hear someone talking about updog, I’m torn between not wanting to fall for it and wanting to help them complete their joke. 
Sapphire: Okay, but what is updog? 
Victoria: Updog is a long sausage in a bun, often served with ketchup, mustard, onions, and/or relish. 
Monika: Not, that’s a hot dog. An updog is when a new version or patch of an application is released. 
Clarice: No, that's an update. You’re thinking of the fourth largest city in Sweden. 
Y/N: Surely, that’s Uppsala, where’s updog is the giant spider in Harry Potter. 
Sun: That’s Aragog. Updog is a symbol conventionally used for an arbitrarily small number in analysis proofs. 
Monika: You’re thinking of epsilon. Updog is an upward-moving air current. 
Victoria: No, that’s an updraft. An updog is the modern version of a henway. 
Sapphire: What’s a henway?? 
Sun: Oh, about five pounds.

Sun: Bridge the generation gap by combining old and new slang into one! 
Sapphire: Tubular AF! 
Victoria: Mood to the max! 
Clarice, annoyed: Groovy, I hate it. 
Monika, pulling out a light saber: If she breathes, SHE’S A SQUARE!!!

Sun: Are we really going to let Sapphire keep Victoria? 
Clarice: I kept Monika.

Moon: Jellyfish have been living for 600000 years without brains. A shining ray of hope for my siblings.

Monika: *wiping her butterfly knife clean while covered in blood* I get really offended when people tell me I’m going to hell for being gay because I feel like they’re overlooking all the other perfectly valid reasons I’m going to hell.

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Visiting your hometown

What happens when you take your man to your home town? As your memories, people and places come together how will he react?

A small/long drabble to get me back into writing. Enjoy!

Victor Creed

This mutant never thought that he would walk in your hometown. He didn't expect to see cultures that morph together into one special town, your town. A place where you grew up. So keeping all that in mind he was cautious. Various not to offend someone or to say a rude word in your mother tongue. For the first time in his life, he is frazzled and nervous. he will keep in his front pocket a small leaflet some words he heard you say a few times that may be of some assistance. trying to woo you.

-that old hag showed me the middle finger. let's go.

Unfortunately, anything that he says wrong, will be your responsibility to amend it. so good luck.

Loki

you just know that Loki will have your mother tongue in his little finger (that sounds weird but let's carry on) but do not be fooled, he can not survive the morning wave of people in the farmers market. something that is pretty much normal for you. Loki doesn't know how to feel when he sees the local butcher wrapping the meat in todays' newspaper giving it to buyers or how people shove him to the side as his black suit with the green scarf is more than brought down in value. he will hear the near shouts of Famers that are trying to sell their livelihood to him as his head goes from one side to another in a split second. he will easily get reeled in by the old farmer who just smells the innocence on the Midgardian addressed god. you know the moment you grabs his hand he looks at you.

-how did you ever survive in this chaos?

-I thought you said that chaos is your middle name.

-it is however my kind of chaos is more dignified.

-survive just a little bit more, I need to go to that man in the corner.

-oh, no...

Thor

we all in the fandom know that thor is a ball of joy. but when he lands in your city, your territory he is stoic. he is here on a mission and no one should stand in his way. he will glue himself to your side and he will hold the dictionary book in his mighty right hand and your hand in his left. he will not stand for wasting a day on mundane stuff that you do with him back in the HQ so say goodbye to lazying around. when you go to the oceanic part of your country you are now almost ready to drown him in the ocean. or just leave him on the road, it is getting that heavy.

-thor, think it is time to stop.

-what do you mean?

-to be honest, I don't know anymore I am so tired.

-you are right... let us stop. for 2 minutes and then you can drive again.

-I will leave you here.

Bucky Barnes

bucky loves to travel. he loves to see you in the role of a guide you tell him about the park where you cut your leg open and when you got to the hospital as a nun stood above you praying for your recovery. bucky loves to feel the fresh air going into his nose thinking to himself how this was the same air that you breathe in. he loves to see all the different parts of the city where you went to. even so much that he went to your former hairstylist.

-bucky, you don't have to do this.

-nonsense, doll. I want to experience it. just like you did.

-that was eons ago. and I wore super short hair, like a hedgehog.

-hedgehog?

-yeah, it was so short that I only put on gel and made small spikes.

- I will give everything I have and say that you looked beautiful.

-alright, your call.

Steve Rogers

steve cannot wait for enough for him to arrive in the city where you walked, ran, and laughed. he cannot wait to enter your old apartment and see all of the hidden pieces that he wants to know. he loves to help you clean the apartment and see a big box of your old photos. he will look with your through on the hard wooden floor with one arm around your shoulders as you talk about each photo. even showing him the photo of your sister.

-when will I meet her?

-I don't know.

-didn't you say that she lived here, still?

-yeah...

-I want to meet her. I think am ready for it.

-okay...

Bruce Wayne

you just know that when you told him to pack his bags to go with you he did his research. he knows when, how the city was built. he will try to memorize the tongue twisters and say them horribly wrong just to make you laugh. when he looks at your old apartment he tries to envision the day you left it all behind to go to Gotham and it breaks his heart to imagine you in tears.

-bruce.

you take his calloused hand feeling his fingers tighten the grip.

-sorry, I immediately imagined you when you moved out. I got sad.

-why?

-because, you surely cried.

-I did, a little, but this city didn't have that something.

-and what is that?

-you dumbass. now stop sulking we need to clean.

Clark Kent

as Clark arrived at the farm where your aunt lived he couldn't help feel but prepared. he saw the cows eating grabs and was ready in a split second to milk it just to show off his soft and delicate side. Clark heard the stories of your aunt, well one of them, and from what he concluded, for now, this aunt was the beginner level, nice one, the one who won't tear him a new one if he doesn't treat you right. as the door opened you greeted your aunt in your mother tongue and introduced your man. Clark shakingly trying to reply in the mother tongue feeling the few letters that stood together could fall more apart than from his mouth. your aunt laughed hugging him and roughly patted him on his back. almost like a punch if you will. you look at your aunt and Clark cannot help but stand behind you as he whispered.

-what did she say?

-she said that you seem stiffer than a goat's turd.

-you said that this aunt was nice.

-she is. but that is the way we express ourselves.

-with curse words???!!

-what better way.

Arthur curry

Arthur was relaxed when he arrived, he was laid back when he slept in your apartment but that all suicide jumped off a cliff as he shook hands with your mother. Your mom wasn't that intimating but he heard the stories of her standing to your abusive father and running away with just some change in her pocket and a used car. he knows that the woman in front of him is strong can make or break your relationship. so he held the coffee cup in his hands as if was the key to everything he needed to know how to make your mother happy. he saw how your eyes sparkled when you talked to her how your smile ever left for a second you take what seemed to him in complete gibberish but cute gibberish. your mother turns to him asking in English.

-so Arthur, can I call you by your first name?

-yes, madam. of course, you can.

-thank you. well, then Arthur what do you do for a living?

with a small nod from you, he tells the honest truth.

-I am a superhero. but minus the stupid cape. I am here to keep you and your daughter, of course, safe from all danger. and I hope you will like me!!!!

you turn to your mother with a small chuckle as you tell her in your mother tongue.

-he is helpless.

-he seems like it, good luck, Y/n.

Orm Marius

nothing can save his pulse from rising as he walked with the crowd of people in the town square only your hand which he held more than tightly enough. you stopped pointing at a big statue of a colonel on a horse placed in the middle of the square.

-he is a big deal.

-yes, I can imagine the poor people that had to lift it up to place it here.

-yes, but thanks to those people, people now in the present can always remember what they went through at that time.

he didn't find any specialness in the statute for him it lacked in far more than that he can count but when he saw your face looking at the statue he knew that whatever that stirred in you he wanted to see it every day. he only squeezed your hand placing a kiss on your knuckles.

-does this mean you want in your likeness?

-sure, but only if you will make it.

-oh, darling, that is a recipe for chaos.

The Joker

j never put effort into himself. he did in destruction, in chaos, in mayhem, and even in covering his white skin with some basic foundation as he meets your off the edge aunt. when you told him that every second sentence from her is a curse he was more than ready to meet her. because sometimes crazy people click with the people who like to curse. everyone knows that. so when he sat in the house of your crazy aunt he firstly observed, he watched you talked together and exchanged laughs, even more, when you ever brought to tears as you laughed off the curses she threw at you so playfully making even j smile. so when she turned to him it was game time. and you were the translator.

-my aunt asked what is that you do for a job?

-tell her I am the man of your dreams.

-I told her that.

-damn, then tell her-WHAT?!

you giggle at his shock as you heard the playful quote she told you when you were little and j wanted to know what she said.

-what did she say?

-she said "if a girl gives a man a hand, she will give him her ass"

-your aunt is a wise woman.

- I knew you would like her.

Duncan Vizla

Duncan likes to take walks and taking a walk with you next to him as you showed him around your old neighborhood and told him stores of the always pissed on metal slide and the always filled cafes that were always the pinpoints for some scammers he found in question why you like it so much. as you showed his around you stopped at your old elementary school. you showed him the main entrance was where everyone hurled in the morning hours and where you sat with your friends and talked about the horribly proffers that still to this day haunt you. something he heard you mumble in your sleep.

-she was that awful?

-yes, and people like here never get old it's like the evilness she has in her keeps her eligible for work.

-am i not the same?

he couldn't ask a stupider question. and for that, you punched him in the shoulder.

-don't compare yourself to her. you aren't evil.

-you are forgetting my job, darling.

-you kill for money, she kills for fun and to keep herself alive. a difference now let's go home I need to remind you just how good and attentive you can be.

-lead the way, dove.

hope you liked it. Tell me what you think❤️

Support me with a kofi

[certifiedskywalker]

Breaking Oaths and Following Orders - Din Djarin

thebounty said: Hey!! I was wondering if I could ask for a request for a Mandalorian x Jedi!reader? It’s inspired by this song (Jenny- Studio Killers) which is basically about friends turned into lovers.

AN: Ah, yes, the TikTok song...I hope I did your idea justice! (I cut the rest of your request out on this official post because I didn’t want to totally spoil what happens!)

You were familiar with the carbon stink of blaster bolts and the excited tension of battle. Limited stints in combat during the Clone Wars, when you were barely old enough to be a padawan, had introduced you to the harsh adrenaline and smells of war. A gunfight in some alley on some Outer Rim world was nothing compared to what you had seen. Though, now, you knew all of what was at stake; you loved all that was at stake.

“I don’t think they’re Jedi,” Din observed as he ducked down behind the thick stone wall you were using as cover. You shot the helmeted man an incredulous look.

“Really? What gave you that idea? The fact they’re not using laser swords or that they’re shooting at us?” Din didn’t respond to your sarcasm and instead popped up above the wall to let a few bolts fly. Based on the yelps of pain, they hit their marks.

“We need to get out of here,” he said once he ducked back down. You nodded and glanced at the Child, still tucked away in his cradle. His big eyes were glued to you, as they often were in the heat of battle. Expectant, waiting for you to make your, the, move.

“Yeah, we do,” you agreed, before you pressed the button on the Child’s cradle that closed the little creature within. The last thing you wanted was more pressure. 

“They have us pinned,” Din said and tipped his head back towards the wall behind you. “And there’s at least five,” the Mandalorian popped up from behind the wall again and nearly missed a blaster bolt to the head, “six up front.”

“Can’t you jet us out of here?”

Wordlessly, Din reached around to his back and rapped his gloved knuckles against the fuel tank of his jet pack. An empty, metallic clang echoed the knocking of his hand. No fuel. 

“Karabast,” you cursed as you turned your attention to the enemies firing luring shots at the relative safety of the wall. There were too many. A step beyond the stone would mean certain death. So did staying put. Direness set in, loomed like a storm cloud in your mind. You glanced back at Din and the Child’s cradle only to have a lump form in your throat. 

As if on cue, the cradle covers opened and revealed the watchful eyes of the Child. He was still focused on you. As you took a moment to study him in return, you neither heard a coo of worry nor did you see flinch of fear. He was calm, eerily so; as if he knew what you were thinking, what you knew you had to do. You moved your gaze to Din and watched as he let a few shots go towards your attackers. A stray blaster bolt from the enemy knocked against the beskar plate on his chest, right above his heart. Too close to where his armor ended and his clothing began. Too close for comfort. You couldn't lose him. 

Adrenaline, pure and vile rushed through you. Before you could move against your instincts, your hand reached out and pulled Din back down behind the stone wall. The dark visor of his helmet met your gaze. You could feel the question on his lips, despite having never seen them. You had spent enough time imagining them; how they looked and how they might feel against your own.

“Grab the kid and run on my word,” you said with a tone of seriousness to break yourself from your wonderings. “Got it?”

Din was still for a moment and you realized that your hand lingered on his arm. Warmth spread through your fingers, up your arm, and to your face. Quickly, you let go, and the Mandalorian seemed to have recovered. He nodded wordlessly and reached out towards the cradle. When the pod was tucked under his arm, you moved to face the stone wall you all were hidden behind. 

“What are you planning, Y/N?” 

Din’s tone was cold, laced with concern. After all the cycles you and the man had worked and lived together, you had noticed he only said your name when you were about to do something dangerous. You had wished he said it more, in different contexts, like one of affection. Though, you had reasoned long ago that Din’s concern was his affection. Like the Jedi, it seemed that Mandalorian of Din’s Creed forewent too-personal, entangling attachments. It was the first principle of the Code that you had wished you had broken long ago. In a sense, you had. The care you held, the love, for Din and the Child...you were a Jedi no longer.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t pretend.

“You can ask me questions later.”

Before Din could attempt to stop you, you reached down to each of your hips and pulled the two metal, somewhat cylindrical pieces of your lightsaber from your belt. In a practiced motion, you latched the two segments together and pressed the ignite switch. As soon as the blade ignited, you focused your mind on the small, stone wall that sheltered you. Once you pictured it clear in your mind, you threw your hands up and pushed forward. When you opened your eyes, the stone wall hurtled towards your attackers and drove some down into the dirt. You glanced at Din.

“Now!”

At your word, Din rushed towards the now dwindling group of criminals that had been shooting at you. Due to the laser sword in your hands, most of their fire was focused on you. With an ease that surprised you, you twirled your saber in the air and deflected the shots. Most landed in the chests of those had taken aim, giving each a swift death. You gave an extra flourish to redirect a blaster bolt towards one of the attackers that was more interested in Din and cradle.

The man fell quickly and a surge of confidence rushed through you. You still had it, even after all this time of hiding! Only a few criminals remained and you drew closer and closer. As you moved, their aim grew more and more precise. One even dared to charge at you. With you busied dispatching him, another shot off his rifle. White-hot and searing hurt ripped through your lower leg, then your shoulder. A yelp of pain escaped your lips. Overcome by heated rage and long ago lessons forgotten, you tilted forward and struck him down.

Then there was silence. Only your haggard breath filled your ears. The pain in your leg and shoulder overwhelmed your senses. It had been a long time since you had taken a hit. An even longer time since you had used the weapon of your dead Master.

You fell to your knees, tried to focus on forcing your breathing steady. When you hit the ground, your thumb instinctively struck the power switch. With a hiss, the blade closed and you found enough strength to lift your gaze. Your eyes locked with Din’s darkened visor.

“Y/N.”

There was that concern again. It was the last thing you heard before you fell back, let your body rest against the dirt of the alleyway and splatters of blood.

You woke with a start. The wild beating of your heart propelled you, so you sat up straight in the sleeping nook. Your head nearly slammed against the ceiling. When you recognized the interior of the Razor Crest, you allowed yourself to catch your breath.

“Hey, hey, hey” Din appeared in the entrance of the sleeping nook with his hands raised towards you. He looked as if he were approaching a wounded animal. “You’re safe. You’re home.”

You nodded but your head did not clear. On your skin still clung the stink of the alley, the carbon of blaster fire, and, against your hand, you felt the cold hilt of the lightsaber. The moment your eyes landed on the weapon, you felt your breath get caught in your throat once more. Memories of the fight rushed back and your heart still thundered in your chest. You focused on Din’s helmet, studied his now straightened posture, and swallowed hard.

“The Child, is he-”

“He’s fine,” Din replied before the question could leave your lips. You shook your head.

“No, did he see...did he see me?”

“It was hard not to see you,” Din said softly.  

Tension filled the silence that trailed after his words. It was heavier than the pressure of battle. Din always had a way of making it difficult for you to breath. But this was like trying to wade through the muck of a full trash compactor. The air between you was thick, weighed down by everything you both wanted to say to the other.

You shifted in the sleeping nook in an effort to find a more comfortable position. As you moved, your shoulder knocked against the wall and you hissed in pain. Din lurched forwards and towards you. You felt heated skin against your arms and, when you looked down, you found that he had not donned his signature gloves.

“Here. I’ll help you step out.”

Din was careful as he eased you out of the sleeping nook while you tired not to be lost in tender touch of his bare hands against your skin. A wave of affection washed over you when you noted the bandages on your lower leg and shoulder. He had taken his gloves off to take care of you. You wished you could have been conscious to remember it.

“Thanks,” you said once you were on your feet.

Though, Din didn’t let go. Instead, he helped you over to the crates you both used as makeshift seats during meal time. Only when you were both sat down did his hands slip from your arms. The silence seemed to have followed you both over as it settles back between you. 

Your mind swirled with worry and doubt, every word you wanted to say. Betrayal was the word that came back most often. You had betrayed the year of trust you had built with Din by not telling him about your past. You had betrayed the Child by not using the Force to forge a deeper connection with him or hear his story. You had betrayed yourself, the oath you swore long ago to never use the teachings of the Jedi. The thought made your stomach twist.

“Is it yours?”

Din’s question broke you from your down spiral. You met the dark gaze of his visor and shook your head. “No. It’s my old Master’s. I lost mine in battle and took his when he…fell.”

“Master? So, you’re a Jedi?”

“No, I never finished the Tri-”

“You can’t do that.” You cocked your head at his interruption. “You can’t keep saying ‘no’ and then give a reason that implies ‘yes’. Are you or are you not a Jedi?”

You swallowed hard, the truth, as Din knew it, balanced on the tip of your tongue. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” There was an edge of anger in his voice but as heated as you had expected. “Why didn’t you tell me when we were sent to look for Jedi, for him?”

“Like I was saying, I didn’t finished my training or the Trials. I don’t know the mysteries the Council kept hidden or where any others are.” Din stood up at your reasoning and stared down at you. Even masked behind the helmet, you still felt the intensity of his eyes on you. 

“You should have told me.” He said, the heat a little higher in his voice. “Do you not trust me enough to keep you safe?”

Stoked by the flames of his voice, you stood from your seat. Din’s visor remained trained on you, waiting for your next move. There was only a step’s worth of space between you now and it was either the close proximity or the pain of your wounds that made your face flush. You weren’t entirely sure as to which but you did know your own truth.

“No, I trust you, Din, with my life,” his name left your lips without a thought. Between thoughts, you realized it was the first time you said his name aloud after learning on Nevarro; but you couldn’t stop now. “The Jedi’s way is old, just as old as the Mandalore, and we have our customs. Following orders is one of them and I was given an order to stay quiet, to stay hidden. I will not apologize for following that order, even if I am a Jedi no longer.”

All of the sudden, the fight and anger left you. You thought of your Master, how he would be disappointed in your outburst. Overwhelmed by the feeling, you sat back down on your crate while Din stayed standing. Heavy, you head fell into your hands. In the dark behind your eyelids, you found little solace or comfort.

Just as you were about to admit defeat and retire back to the sleeping nook, hands gripped your wrists. Gently, Din pulled your hands away from your face and, in response, you looked into his visor. For a moment, you swore that you could see his eyes shining beneath his helmet, his own order and oath manifested in beskar. Before you could ask what he was doing, his hands fell from your wrists and tucked up under the bottom of his helmet.

“Din,” you said, the same concern that swaddled your name in his voice now held his own. “Don’t do this, not like this.”

“I trust you, Y/N, with my life.” His words echoed your own only softer and you were too caught off guard by that tenderness to try to stop his hands as they pushed up. 

You saw the first slivers of tanned skin. Then a scruff covered chin and slope of his jawline. Lips were next on the tour of Din’s features; the very lips you had tried to imagine hundreds of times before. They were pinker than you thought, a little chapped too, but you still longed for them. Then the tip and bridge of his curved nose. A pair of dark brown eyes.

You held Din’s eyes with yours as he finished removing the helmet. He set it on the floor of the Razor Crest with a dull thud, his eyes never leaving yours. Strands of brown hair were set against his forehead, tantalizing enough for you to touch. You fought the urge so you could take in his features a little longer. Despite knowing, based on his voice, that Din was handsome, it was another thing to see it confirmed. 

Unable to hold back anymore, you reached a careful hand out. Din recoiled, flinched away from your reach and you pulled back. Just as you were about to apologize, Din recovered and lifted his own hand. Warm, he guided your hand with his until your fingertips brushed against his temple. When he let go of your wrist, you brushed the hair off from his forehead.

At your touch, Din sucked in a shakey, sharp breath. Scared for a moment that he wouldn’t exhale, you traced your hand down from his forehead to the side of his face. Once you had cupped his cheek, Din closed his eyes and let the breath go. His head tilted, leaned into your touch.

“We’re both oath breakers now, huh?”

Din’s eyes opened at your question. Dark and knowing, his eyes met yours before they flickered down to your lips. You trailed your hand along his jaw until you held his chin between two of your fingers. His breath hitched at the suggestive touch.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” you murmured, the pain of your wounds long forgotten. “Din?”

Wordlessly, from where he kneeled before, Din rushed up and towards you. Messily, his lips found yours and his hands gripped at your waist. Quickly, he pulled you against his chest where the cold kiss of beskar greeted your skin. Not that you minded. You were too caught up in Din’s lips against yours, how you had waited a year for this. You weren’t about to let that go.

Not for any order.

[triptuckers]

All I could ever ask for - Din Djarin

Request: no Pairing:  Din Djarin x reader Summary:  Din has something to discuss with you now that you’re married. Warnings: none Word count:  1.2K A/N: life’s a fuckin dark pit but thank god we have fanfics. this is set before chapter 14 (because I want to ignore that tragedy) I know there’s already like a million fics with almost the same prompt, I just needed this. enjoy reading! 

You’re sitting in the cockpit of the Razor Crest, looking at the stars and occasionally glancing over at the radars. There were still a lot of people looking for the kid. There were even more people looking for you and Din. You did not make a lot of friends, given that you’re both bounty hunters.

But you’ve made it to a fairly peaceful region of space, and you’re enjoying the quiet while you can. Din went to put the kid to sleep, leaving you in the cockpit. You’re sitting in his chair, something he wouldn’t allow anyone but himself or you. You can hear your husband softly talking to the kid downstairs, and a smile appears on your lips.

Only a few days ago, you got married. It was a bit hasty and happened very quickly and quietly, with no one around except for Cara and Greef Karga. Cara had told you she would personally skin you alive if you married Din without her being present. You chuckle at the memory of it.

Behind you, you hear noises and seconds later the door slides open and Din sits down in one of the chairs behind you. You look over your shoulder and smile at him. Though you can’t see it through the Beskar helmet, he smiles back at you.

‘Kid’s finally asleep.’ he says. ‘I don’t know how you do it, but he falls way quicker asleep when you’re the one tucking him in.’  ‘You just have to tell him stories, that’s really all I do.’ you say, looking at the radars again.

‘That’s what I did.’ says Din.  ‘Well maybe he prefers my stories over yours.’ you say teasingly and Din laughs softly. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while. You feel yourself slowly growing more and more tired, but you moments like this with Din are rare, so you force yourself to stay awake. Eventually, it’s Din who speaks first.

‘Cyar'ika?’ he says and you smile at the nickname. You turn around so you can face him, and gesture for him to continue. ‘There’s something I want to discuss with you.’ he says. 

You narrow your eyes slightly. There’s something off about him, almost as if he seems nervous. You know Din, he’s this Beskar-wearing bounty hunter, not scared of anything, constantly finding himself in dangerous situations. And yet, you notice the way his helmet is tilted slightly downwards, and he’s playing with his fingers as if he’s anxious.

‘Are you okay?’ you ask him, making him look up at you. ‘What?’ he says. ‘Oh, yeah, I’m fine.’ ‘You seem nervous.’ you say. ‘Talk to me.’

Din is quiet for a while as he thinks of the words he wants to say. You’re patiently waiting for him. He never acts like this, so it must be serious and hard for him to talk about. The last thing you want to do is force him to say anything about something he’s not ready to talk about yet. 

‘Now that we’re married..’ he says, trailing off. You look at him and silently encourage him to say whatever it is he wants to say. He lifts his helmet and you know he’s looking at you. ‘I can take off my helmet in front of you.’ he says.

‘Oh.’ you say, feeling relieved. ‘I know.’

Din’s helmet tilts a bit, and you imagine a confused expression on his face. ‘You do?’ he says. You nod and lean back in your chair.

‘Yes.’ you say. ‘I know more about Mandalorians than you think. I researched all sorts of things when we got together.’ 

Din looks at you and his heart fills with warmth upon hearing those words. You researched Mandalorian things for him?

‘I know you can take your helmet off in front of family. And that includes foundlings and partners you’re married to. So that means you can take it off in front of the kid and me, if you’d choose to do so.’ you say, and you turn back to look at the stars.

Din’s quiet behind you, and you know he’s processing what you just said. If you knew he would be able to take off his helmet in front of you without breaking the Creed, why hadn’t you said anything about it?

He looks at you and you’re still looking at the stars. You’re leaning back in your chair, and the light coming from the control panels illuminates on your face. 

‘Cyar'ika?’ he says again.  ‘Hmm?’ you hum without turning around, indicating you’re listening to him. ‘If you knew about all of that, why didn’t you ask me to take off my helmet?’ he asks. 

This time, you’re the one who’s confused. You thought it was rather obvious. You turn around to look at Din. ‘Well, it’s not up to me to decide when you take off your helmet.’ you say. 

Din looks at you and his heart fills itself with warmth yet again.  ‘How many people that are alive today have seen your face?’ you say. ‘Zero.’ says Din. ‘Exactly.’ you say. ‘It’s a huge deal for you, I understand. I never expected you to take your helmet off right after we got married. The decision is entirely up to you, I’m not going anywhere, so you can take all the time you need.’

You smile at him once more before turning back to look at the stars. After a while, you hear a faint click followed by a hiss of air. You look at the control panels, to see if something broke. 

‘Huh, that’s weird.’ you mumble. ‘Looks like nothing is broken.’ ‘Y/N.’ says Din behind you. 

You freeze and your eyes widen. His voice isn’t modulated. The sound you heard was him taking off his helmet. You immediately shut your eyes.

‘Din.’ you say somewhat breathlessly. ‘Did you just take off your helmet?’ ‘Yes.’ says Din. ‘Are you sure? I mean, it’s a huge step and I literally just told you can take all the time you need, I don’t need to-’

You stop talking when you feel how Din turns your chair, making you face him. Still, you keep your eyes shut. 

‘Open your eyes, cyar'ika.’ he says softly.  ‘Are you sure? Like, absolutely sure?’ you say. 

As a response, you feel one hand cupping your cheek, and a pair of lips on your forehead. ‘I trust you.’ he says. ‘And I’m ready.’

You take a deep breath before you peel your eyes open. The man in front of you seems a bit nervous, but determined. A tiny smile forms on his lips. Your lips part and a surprised expression appears your face. Din immediately looks worried.

‘What is it?’ he says. Instead of answering him, you put both of your hands on the side of his face and basically smash your lips against his. Din is taken back at first, but soon melts into your touch. 

When you finally pull away, you keep your face close to his, noses almost touching as you look into his eyes. ‘Din.’ you say softly. ‘You’re beautiful.’ You see how Din’s cheeks heat up and he smiles at you.

‘I was worried you might not like what you see.’ he admits.  ‘Oh, Din, I fell in love with a Mandalorian wearing a full set of Beskar armour. This-’ you kiss the tip of his nose ‘-is just an added bonus. And I love it. I love you.’ 

‘I love you too.’ says Din. ‘Thank you for making me feel safe. You’re all I could ever ask for.’ 

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Jo

[ohheyitsokay]

fear

pairing: Din Djarin (the Mandalorian) x reader

wordcount:2.6k

warnings: allusions to unhealthy views of relationships, angst with a happy ending? mostly fluffy, you guys know me by now

summary: you had always been told that power brought destruction. why wouldn’t you be afraid of the most powerful man you’d ever met? 

>>

“Wait, Mandalorian,” you called, voice trembling - but gratitude was more powerful than fear. He didn’t stop trudging through the outskirts of your little town, steady, as though he hadn’t heard you.

“Please,” you tried again, a touch annoyed that he was making you chase after him, and the warrior mercifully slowed to a stop. He did not turn around, he was not that polite, but his helmet did shift, and that was enough to give you the courage you needed.

You averted your eyes as you placed yourself in front of him, but stared at his knees with determination as you held out your arms, gift light in weight and heavy in value.

“I know you said you would not take extra payment, but you need this, and we will no accept no for an answer.” You had rehearsed the words with every step you’d taken towards his back, but still they came out unsteady.

“No,” he said, and you almost imagined laughter in his voice, but it was not mocking, and it pierced through your hesitation.

Sand ground against his feet as he went to move, and again under yours as you dug in your heels, venturing to look the mask full on.

“Please reconsider – it is a med kit with high quality bacta tools.” You tried to look as confident as you felt.

The Mandalorian's helmet tilted at you again, as he said, “What?”

Finally you had his full attention.

“My family, harvests from destroyed med droids sometimes, to get supplies, and we’ve got a lot of it saved up now.” Resolve was heavy in you, sinking your feet even deeper, willing you to stay in his way. “We owe you a great debt; this is a more honest gratitude than credits.” Something told you that your eyes had found his, through the T of his visor.

“If not for you, then for the little one,” you added, quieter, not that he couldn’t use it himself. After freeing your town more or less by accident, he was covered in scrapes and bruises in between the beskar. This gift was invaluable for bringing him back home in one piece.

Slowly, thoughtfully, he took it, his gloved hands surprisingly gentle. The air was suddenly awkward, and you worried briefly thay you had somehow insulted him.

“Thank you,” he said, and if you didn’t know better, his tone was almost bashful.

“Thank you,” you replied, smiling at him, before you remembered to be demure, and you ran off, heart racing.

His gaze might have followed you, if the hairs on the back of your neck were any indication, but you didn’t look back until you ducked into your building. The feeling returned – of meeting his eyes – and then he was turning away and you were alone.

You had your own home, made of smooth clay and filled with repurposed objects and materials. Chairs made from old racing bike seats and a bed full of scraps of fabric. You sunk into your favorite corner – your workbench and table. Piles of broken droid pieces were in a relatively organized pile nearby, and you grabbed one and began gently disassembling it. Soft clinks and the gentle squeaks of metal were music to your ears, even though you didn’t know anything about the mechanics, you loved the process of finding beautiful things in the chaos of wires and washers.

“Your family, huh?” the voice was low and amused, with a touch of something lighter, almost nervous?

The Mandalorian was at your door, curtain pushed aside to make room for his large frame. The grease stains on your hands became incredibly interesting as you shrugged, confused as to why he was here, in your home? Wasn’t he leaving not so long ago?

“I am my own family,” you tried to laugh, the awkwardness from before returning.

“Why are you… is there… do you need…?” you felt flustered, not wanting to offend him but trying to ask what in the world was happening.

“Would you want to come with me?” his words came out quickly, rushed and little too loud. Instinctively, you flinched, before even fully processing his question.

“What?” you looked more towards him, his movements seemed irritated as he looked away.

“I looked at the medkit and I don’t know half of what’s in it. I need some help anyway, with the kid, and,” he gestured noncommittally to the room and you understood.

“Okay,” you said. He was right, this was barely a home. And after all he’d done for the town, the least you could do was help him out for awhile.

For all he was covered head to toe, he still looked startled. But he nodded, curtly and walked back out the door.

You scrambled to shove your own stock of things into a bag and ran after him, feet thumping in the sand, mind racing.

-

Traveling with the Mandalorian was … not what you expected.

When he has first appeared in your town and you had beheld him, with his armor and weapons and swirling cape, you thought to yourself, this man is like a summer storm. Powerful, destructive, and beautiful from a distance. If you got to close you would be overwhelmed with him, his life, and there would be little room for survivors.

You were in awe of him, but afraid.

Apparently, not so afraid as to follow it, but you waited for it to hit you, tear your apart, and leave you in pieces.

You thought it would come on his next outing to find work, as his contact scoffed at your presence, but it didn’t.

Then maybe, it would come after the second mission, when it had come sooner than expected and you’d been there, improvising against his orders trying to keep you all alive. It didn’t then, either.

Long nights were spent, talking quietly, and you would show him how to use the creams and the sprays to heal himself, and you waited. The longer it took, the more sure you were that it was building, behind the armor, and he would grow sick of you, sick of your questions and touches and presence.

It was almost cruel, that you couldn’t find any evidence of it building, somewhere, anywhere. You had been told your whole life that a man like him would hurt you. You had even seen it, time and time again, and the images haunted you. It was unfair that you got all those wonderful moments with him first. Moments when he would get excited and eager and awkward at your kindness, or when he would open up with halting, thoughtful phrases, or when he would prioritize your safety, even over his own. Because how could you have those moments, and still survive when they were inevitably taken from you?

Maybe the waiting was the storm, because it was consuming you.

You found him in the cockpit, hating that you had a chair of your own to sink into.

“I think I should go home,” you whispered, fixing your gaze on the stars. He turned to look at you; you didn’t have to see it to know. The silence was loud and you felt the first tremble in your hands. Maybe asking would be the final straw?

“I don’t understand,” he said, carefully, and you heard the confusion in his voice and to your surprise, a touch of hurt.

“I…” you hadn’t prepared for this part. The words came more honestly than you intended, “I am afraid.”

Once, Din had seen a spaceship torn apart midflight. It cracked open at the same time as it caved in on itself.

That was how he felt, hearing those quite words, out of the mouth of his companion.

His voice was broken in a way that he could not blame on the helmet.

“Of me, cyar'ika?”

You took so long to answer, hope and fear pooled together blending in his chest. It was hard to think, hard to sit side by side suspended in the sky and to think.

“Of what you must be,” finally you admitted. A little more hope dripped in. Din thought he must be almost nothing. Other than his creed, and his role as the little ones buir, he could – would – be anything he wanted.

“What must I be?” he asked, and you seemed frustrated, like it was unfair that he didn’t already know.

“You are a warrior – strong and powerful and…” you swallowed, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “And those who are like that tire of those who are like me. And when you do, it will hurt.”

His gloved hands slid over the plates on his thighs, almost dancing with thought.

“Have I shown you that I tire of you?” he asked, and you had to close your eyes, searching, almost desperately, for a single time that he had.

Your “No,” was barely audible.

“That’s because I have not,” he answered almost as quietly. “I will not.”

The certainty, the fear, built up for years and years of warnings and reminders, was slipping through your fingers, and his hand was filling them. It sent a shock through you, but you didn’t push him away.

Suddenly you realized that you could’ve, that he would have let you – and another shock came.

Even through the glove, his hand was warm, and for the first time you allowed yourself to acknowledge to yourself that it was gentle.

“Are you tired of me?” he asked and the question sunk into your soul. He was the strongest man you’d ever met, capable of destroying everything in his path. He was holding your hand, asking for permission to keep you by his side.

This “No,” was louder, more resolute.

“Then this is your home,” he said, with even more determination. “And I will protect you.”

For the first time, you felt like you were seeing and hearing him clearly, fully. Not as you had been told to, but as he actually was. Even the unsaid words were clear.

The Mandalorian would not hurt you.

It would take time to unlearn, but you took a deep breath, and held onto his hand, and let a little bit of your fear go. It made room for something else, in your heart, something better.

Din felt it too, and his own resolve strengthened. He could show you – those people existed, but he, with you, would not be one of them. Even more than that, he wanted to be your comfort. It would take time, too, but now, at least he had that.

-

He didnt even need to say anything, only shoot you a look, and you knew. Under the helmet his face was surely as panicked as yours, and fast as a blaster shot you were on a bike, child tucked into your chest, racing away.

There had been local festival and you all had been excited after finishing a job, too intoxicated by the easy victory to remember the price it came with. You shouldn've known better - gotten out while you were ahead, but now that didnt matter because sharp, electric objects were flying past your head and wind was whipping in your hair and you were scared.

The Crest was barely within reach, you knew that, unable to stop desperately checking the fuel on the bike. The attacks were slowing and you tore your gaze up to look for Din, willing him to be close. It was getting cooler, both suns dipping towards the horizon and all you wanted to do was get out of range, get to the Crest, all safe.

You felt a prickle on the back of your neck, and before you registered that it wasn't warm and inviting, you were face to mask with someone as covered as the a man you wanted, but who was far, far worse.

Everything was a blur. There was sharp pain on your back and your thighs tensed, gripping the bike and the child and shooting your blaster for all you were worth. The ship was in sight, and then you were on it, and the door was closing and you hadn't been sure you were breathing but you couldnt start yet because it wasnt over.

Pain was radiating from your back and there was boom and bangs of fists and weapons on the shell of the ship and most importantly, Din was not back yet.

You blindly slapped a healing patch onto yourself before lowering yourself into the darkest corner of the ship, the child still close to your pounding heart. Your tried to focus on the sounds of the machines around you, tried to remind yourself that you had healing tools in case... in case he needed them. The thing about safe spaces is that they never overlapped with the ones that let you see what was going on, which only amplified your terror.

Maker, you didnt know why you were so scared but when you heard familiar footsteps and shining beskar came into view, the relief you felt was overwhelming. You breathed again.

It felt like there should have been a light show or a musical fanfare, how free you suddenly felt, it was a new and bizarre sensation but nothing... happened.

And then you realized.

"You are okay," he breathed, almost disbelieving, as the two of you stood, soaking in each other's miraculously living presence. There was a tightness to his posture, stress visible in his frame.

His breathing was ragged, cracking through the helmet, but he turned and out of habit you both moved away, remembering the danger just outside.

Your mind was racing as your forced yourself to set up everything properly, make sure the child was safely tucked away and the ship was secure and ready to fly. Feeling liftoff sent another wave of relief and shock through you, and your feet carried you up, up and around to the cockpit to find Din. By the time you reached him, the Crest was sailing through the stars, and the air in the cockpit matched that of before. Your hands had found the medkit you'd given him, all those months ago, updated by you regularly, and you held it out to him, almost in a trance.

Din took it before setting it aside, and turning to you. His arms opened, feeling suddenly vulnerable, in an action he'd never really done before.

You took his offer without hesitation, sinking into his arms, ignoring the rough edges of the beskar. It was one thing, to see him be gentle when it was a quiet night, and another entirely when intensity and his own fear and anger had been running high. It gave you the final note of bravery you needed to profess your realization.

"You make me feel safe, Din," you whispered into the cloth around his neck. One of his hands found the patch you'd put on, fingers barely tracing its edges.

"I do?" If possible, his voice was even more ragged than before.

You nodded, knowing he would feel it, and unable to say more.

After long, exposed moments, there was a shift and you both moved to sit in your respective chairs, not fully able to look at each other just yet. You wondered if his face felt as warm as yours did, or if he could feel the ghost of the shape of you, as his lingered on your skin.

The silence was comfortable, but still he asked, "Are you still afraid?" And you pondered the question, reflecting on all the little moments you had waited for the hurt to come, and it hadn't. The moments he protected you from them, as he had today.

"Less and less," you said eventually, relishing the honesty on your tongue.

Din reached over and took your hand again.

<<

Taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost

[theamberwriter]

Always Be My Hero [Pro! Eijiro Kirishima]

A/N: I read THIS by @dreamy-writings and was inspired to write this, lol

Warning: Angst, cursing

Pair: Pro Hero! Eijiro Kirishima x gn! Reader

Word Count: 1.6k+

*~*~*~

"Oi, you need to talk to shitty hair," Katsuki snapped, throwing a bunch of flowers on your bed.

Mina sat on the edge of the mattress, took your shoulders in her hands, and gently shook you. "Please, [Name], Eijiro has gone off the deep end."

"I'm sure just Ei is just a little stressed," you tried to sound soothing. "He's been working a lot -"

"We wouldn't be here if we didn't think it was serious," Denki urged.

"He's going to hurt himself," Katsuki growled. "Don't need both you idiots out of commission."

"We know, after everything, we shouldn't be bothering your healing time. But…. Eijiro needs you." Mina hung her head in defeat. 

Just what was going on? When your fiance was home, he was as cheery and bright as you'd always known him. Was he different at work? With his friends?

"Shitty Hair thinks this -" Katsuki gestured to your broken arm and leg, the bandages around your head, your sprained ankle and broken ribs, the numerous bumps and bruises, the multiple hairline fractures and surgery incisions, and the antibiotic drip the hospital sent you home with. "Is some how all his fucking fault. That damn idiot won't listen to us! He's been working the hell out of himself. Spends hours beating himself up."

You felt like you cracked in half. Like a bit of you shattered. Not the ones from being thrown into buildings and trampled on by a giant villain. But deep down in an untouchable place. You felt like you broke apart. 

Knowing you caused your beloved so much anxiety and stress had boiled up in him. Maybe you should've seen it. But he was just so happy. Glued to your side, helping you bathe, helping you get to the bathroom, changing the bandages on your head - assuring that he still thought you extremely attractive, even though you were going to have a hell of a scar going from the middle of your hairline down under your left ear. He was always smiling and joking when he was with you.

"The wheelchair they gave me is in the closet," you muttered, eyes on where your hands were balled around the blankets. You had to be strong. Normally, Eijiro was your rock. Now the tables had turned.

Mina pulled out the wheelchair while Denki and Katsuki helped get you out of bed. Luckily you'd asked Eijiro to help you into sweatpants and a decent t-shirt before he left for work. You asked for one of your shoes to put on your uncasted foot (which was wrapped in an ace bandage instead). Then unhooked the IV and pinched the line. The bag was nearly done anyway.

"I'm ready when you all are," you muttered. A silent tremor passed through the room. Then you all were out the door.

In his agency training facility, Eijiro was giving all he had to a punching bag. Sweat poured from the hardened ridges in his skin. He felt the solid bag meet his fists, but none of it was satisfying. None of the hits eased the guilt.

No amount of punching had shaken away the image plaguing his mind. You lying in bed, barely seeming to hold on. The doctors said you had internal bleeding, a concussion, then listed off all the broken parts. A bit of himself broke with each word.

Eijiro had bawled hysterically when the doctors left and he was alone with your unconscious body. He gripped your hand, begging to anyone who would hear him. Asking them to let you pull through. That, in exchange, he'd get stronger. No matter the cost.

Eijiro was determined to keep your spirits up. To not let you know how much he'd been suffering. You couldn't imagine the wells that wanted to overflow the first time your eyes opened. The first kiss you gave him after waking up. He felt like bursting, you'd been returned to him.

In exchange, he'd train himself raw. He'd push himself past his limit. It didn't matter what Katsuki, or Tamaki, or even Fat Gum had to say. Eijiro was going to protect you next time. For now he'd train. Then go back to you at the end of the day with a smile, no matter how much he hurt or how tired he was. Coming home to you, hooked to an IV and barely able to move around the house - that image drove him.

Eijiro had been so excited to have you home. But every time he looked too long at your casted arm, or uncovered the puckered gouge on your head. Everything reminded him he hadn't been there to help. To save you. Deku had been, he lifted that gargantuan off you like a pillow. Eijiro didn't think he'd ever have been able to do that. So he was going to train until he could.

You hadn't complained once since you'd been home. Only grateful when you'd gone out a few days after to greet your fans. There were so many who thanked you for saving them. Each felt like a bit of a hit to him. You'd saved all those people and he didn't even manage to save you. Was he truly a hero if he couldn't protect those he cared about?

It didn't matter to him that he was a five hour plane ride away when it all happened. Eijiro had gone to do some publicity stuff with other heroes. He had to hear it from an insensitive reporter who asked how he felt knowing his fiance was in the hospital. But he hadn't. He didn't know. His fellow heroes outraged at the question and Eijiro was on a plane back to you within the hour.

He swore he'd be there next time. That he'd never let anything like this happen again. Eijiro had gone in the plane bathroom and had a good deep cry a few times. When he saw the videos, read the articles, saw all the people asking Where was Red Riot? He hadn't been there. He'd let down the one person he never wanted to. It broke his heart into a million bits. He didn't think he'd ever be able to repair himself.

Eijiro cried as he punched. No one would be able to tell through the sweat. But each and every punch got harder, and so too did his tears.

Pitying looks were passed your way as Katsuki pushed you through Eijiro's agency. You stopped in briefly to talk to Fat Gum. He looked so put out and desperate. He said he'd tried everything. But everyday, Eijiro had been in the facility's gym. Working himself until he bled or passed out. 

Katsuki pushed you, Mina and Denki in tow, down the halls to the gym. You heard the blunt hits long before you saw the doors. Each one grating into your mind. You were never going to forget the hot guilt that bit at you with each thud.

Katsuki pushed you to the gym door way. It was empty, except where your beloved stood hardened to the max, shirtless. You saw a bit of blood dripping from his back. The punching bag was losing sand and stuffing. A defeated one laid in a lump on the floor already. You watched a long minute. Then you realized each grunt turned more into a cry or a wail.

You turned to Denki, and held out your hand. He gave you the crunch he'd been carrying. Luckily the arm and the leg you'd broken were on the opposite sides of your body. You hauled yourself up, your friends helped steady you. Then you limped your way across the gym. Finally, you came into view in the mirror in front of him.

A few spots on Eijiro's face were bleeding. His eyes were blown out. His features scrunched up in….there wasn't a word strong enough to explain the pain. The anguish. The despair. His eyes met yours and, all at once, he broke down. 

Eijiro collapsed to his knees. His quirk finally releasing him. Sobs still wracked his shoulders, they shook violently. But his sobs were silent now. Though you didn't miss the tears that dripped onto the floor.

"Eiji," you cooed and lowered yourself to the floor.

He shook his head. "You….sh-should be-e….hom-m-me. He-healing."

"You need me more." You put a hand on his shoulder. Eijiro latched on to you. You didn't care about the blood, sweat, or tears, or how much sitting that way hurt. You just needed to get him to breathe now.

"I -" he hacked. "I'm not strong enough. I'm not….I'm not manly enough. Even now. What if you get hurt again - or worse? Because I couldn't….I can't…."

You shook your head and kissed his damp hair. "Eijiro - honey, listen to me, it wasn't your fault. Really. This was me being overconfident. It was my own fault. You're an amazing hero. Thousands of people look up to you. You have to stop beating yourself up. You're being the best hero you can be. And I love you for every bit of who you are. No matter what happens to me, you'll always be my number one hero."

Eijiro sobbed harder, gripping you closer. You didn't complain at the protesting throbs of pain screaming all over your body. You sat a while longer. When he was finally feeling better, he carried you back to your chair. Then he took a quick rinse in the shower before pushing you home. Your friends had prepared everything for a movie night when you got back; movies, drinks, takeout. 

You could see the relief in their faces.

You still caught him giving you long, guilty glances. You would only lean over and kiss the look away. But you could never know the weight of what you said. He wanted to eat, sleep, live, and breathe by that creed.

You'll always be my hero.

~

[wyn-n-tonic]

Oceans in the Desert

Word Count: 1,176 Warning: This is a couple dealing with the loss of a child, that is the theme. It is softness wrapped in grief. I am including an author's note at the end because what I have to say can also be triggering and I don't want to put that just out here and potentially harm or isolate somebody. Anyway, if you're reading this I love you and if you continue on, I love you. But if this subject matter is too triggering? Guess what! I love you.

Gif by: @aomine-dajki​.

He’s…changed.

Since losing the baby, he’s changed.

It shouldn’t be shocking, there are two people feeling this sudden absence and it is a fire consuming the tangled branches of their lives. But she is, at first. The hard exterior he usually sported had begun to soften. It always was around her. But everybody else? He was no longer the strong Din. And in her arms? He was completely shattered.

She’s changed too. Resolute in the belief that a loving and full family wasn’t where her role was meant to be played. She expected his face to change when looking at her. Imagined him twisting away from her. But if it changed at all, it was only with the gentle understanding of shared sadness.

Their grief came in unspoken shifts. Hers flowing freely in the light, an open book adding new chapters to the pages he knew so well. His came softly in the night, the darkness veiling him in the same safety of his uniform, allowing him to become free.

Life pattered on in a four-four beat and so, too, did their graceful dance. Families are torn apart every day and the world doesn’t stop. The world won’t stop for them either, it can’t. To process is to work. To tinker. To lead, not to lean. It’s always been like that, the orphan and the runaway. But where they used to hold themselves, they now hold each other.

He became reckless, helmet tossed to the side. He traded the armor for vulnerability, seeking a different kind of anonymity in the eyes of the world.

“I think I’m done with this,” he whispered, “Ana, I can’t do this anymore.”

Her breath caught behind the ever-present lump in her throat, forcing her upward in shock. She looked towards the rough outline of him at the edge of the bed, heart leaping forward as the gunshot signaling the start of the race rang heavy in her ears.

This is it.

“Din, I—“ What does she say? She never was a beggar but this is different. She wasn’t losing him too. “I didn’t mean for it to all fall apart like this. I didn’t mean t—“

“What?” He turns suddenly and cradles her tear stained cheek in his hand, his heartbeat radiating through his palms. “Stars, did you thin—“

But she’s already nodding into his hand, holding his wrist in a vice grip refusing to lose his touch. He’s a space heater and that warmth’s not lost in the gentle laugh that escapes him now. It’s the sweetest sound the living quarters have heard in weeks.

“No.” He’s pressing that soft pout to her forehead. “Never.” The tip of her nose. “My sweet girl.” Her lips.

Water wells heavy in relief on her lids but, still, she says, “I'm sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I—“ he pulls her to his chest and swallows hard, unable to keep looking into those big eyes still wild with the fear of fresh loss. “We are fragile. I should’ve chosen my words with care, I’m sorry. What I meant was that I can’t keep bowing out and acting like everything is normal.”

He stops, a ragged breath drawn into tired lungs.

“I don’t understand, Din.”

The quaking starts from somewhere deep within him, somewhere far below his sternum. Hollow where his soul should be, as if reaching in and seeking it out would produce nothing but empty air. The same vacancy has carved through her.

His tears fall like stars in the galaxy of her hair.

He waits five beats of his exhausted heart to steady himself before he speaks again, somehow softer, “I can’t continue to run and hunt and hide like this. I cannot keep living in transience and call that healing from my trauma and I won’t let you either.”

“You want a different life? With me?”

“I want a normal life. With you.”

“Din,” she’s pulling back, hands finding his face in the dim light, “What about the Creed? The Guild?”

He pushes a loose strand of hair behind her ears and when he speaks again, he is completely calm. Firm. Resolved.

“I will no longer be bound by rules I did not create.”

Her eyes are searching his, looking for a shred of doubt but there’s none to be found. His mind’s made up but, “Din, you’ve spent thirty-something yea—“

“Fuck the Creed, Ana. The only good thing they ever brought me was my family,” a ragged breath draws through him once more, “but they’re the reason we lost our son. I will not do this anymore. I will not do this to you anymore. We both deserve stability after what we’ve been through.”

The pad of her thumb runs across the curve of his cheek, the constant tears doing in weeks what usually takes years. Her man, her mountain of a man, has been reshaped in front of her. "Where will we go?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Somewhere green. I think he liked green.”

He nods, sadder still. “I think so too. I wish I could’ve asked him.”

“I wish for so many things, Din. I would’ve waited centuries just to hear his little voice. What do you think his first word would’ve been?”

He laughs again and it fills the emptiness of the room, of them. “Well, he spent all his time with us so my credits would be on, ‘Fuck.’”

Her laughter bubbles up, lilting in time with his as they imagine their sweet boy, beaming up at them with his little teeth and wide eyes.

“And the thing is, Ana,” he’s settling down, chest rising and falling at a normal pace now, “I wouldn’t even have admonished him. I wouldn’t have denied that boy a goddamn thing.”

“No,” she brushes his overgrown curls to the side, “neither would I. He had us wrapped around his finger the moment he came into our orbit.”

His heart visibly sinks, “Laughing makes me feel guilty.”

“Yeah,” she bites her lip and pulls him into her, allowing gravity to take them both to bed, “it makes me feel guilty too."

“I keep wondering if this pain will ever end and then, in fleeting moments, I forget there was ever pain to begin with. Then it hits me all over again because I don’t want to forget him.”

“No, my love, I don’t want to either. They say forgetting is the ultimate loss. I won’t let you do that.” She takes a deep breath as her fingers tangle into the wilds that have claimed his crown. “Promise me that you won’t let him slip away from me either.”

He pulls her closer, wringing out what little space is left between their bodies. Lips finding hers in the gentlest kiss as salt water mixes in the shared space of home, he whispers, “I promise you.”

One day, the pain may subside into a dull ache. One day, it may even go away altogether. But for now?

The sobs that shook their bodies could’ve filled oceans in the desert.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This was one of the hardest, most cathartic things I've ever written. I lost a child when I was twenty-two and I did it all by myself while surrounded by people who said they loved me. I wrote this the way that I did because it's how I wanted my ex partner to behave, I wanted him to care and cry with me and he didn't. His reaction made me believe that nobody else would care or cry with me either. I stayed silent in my grief for years. I used to feel like losing that pregnancy made me a failure but when I finally opened up about it the amount of love and support I received was everything that I had been craving. If you are suffering through this grief alone, I promise you that you're not and I hope that the people you are surrounded by give you the love and the care that you deserve. I hope that the people around you cry with you. You're not a failure, you never have been.