#//and that's more like injuries he'd have that show up as scars on this dude

[mechahero]

@demonsfate asked- FUSION ! it’s fusion time again y’all

wonder if he'd be a rowdy boy

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2023 No. 27 - Matches/Scars/“Let me see”

Scogan Bingo challenge Pick-Up Line

Logan's head was spinning when he came around, and he was still sore all over from that damn car crash, including a hated painful tensing of only just recovering muscles in his neck from where he'd broken the latter two times within a minimum of time. Couldn’t have been long since he'd passed then, his still dazed mind tried to conclude …

Or had it? Logan couldn’t scent or hear anyone nearby – at least he didn’t think, with his senses still slightly off –, so the stinking fur guy who had caused the crash had apparently left him behind for some reason, maybe getting bored with trying to gut someone with an off-the-chart healing factor. Asshole could be anywhere in these damn woods right now … Damnit, Logan had to get the fuck up and see where that stupid kid was he'd picked up on the road for some reason, as soon as he could muster up enough energy in his cells. But the more awake he got, the more he suddenly doubted, Rogue was still anywhere nearby. Especially not if psycho fur dude had really taken her for some reason that Logan decided he'd rather not think about too hard right now, not with all he knew from painful personal experience about some ferals in this fucked-up world. Because fact was, it was pitch-black like in a damn monkey's ass and bitterly cold around him, meaning he'd been unconscious for far longer than a few comparatively minor injuries should actually allow and his enemy surely had one hell of a headstart by now … How damn off he was about pretty much everything, he only realized when he finally scrambled to sit up, tried to stand up, and promptly banged his dumb head on the roof of some car. Not his truck; a lack of orientation or not, he'd immediately have been able to tell his own distinctive scent and a week's worth of laundry to be done plus two bags full of trash to be thrown out. Whoever's ride this was whatever reason, fur guy had seemingly dropped Logan's stupid ass in here for, they couldn’t be outside in any case. The echo was all off. No smell of a garage, or of the spicy, crystal-clear air of Canada either. And when Logan instinctively tried to reach around him, to use the handle that his fingertips soon brushed, the door didn’t budge an inch.

"Please don't do that. Unless you want to get us both killed, that is."

God fucking damnit … Logan shook himself with an annoyed hiss, trying to push the last of dizziness from his system and get his perception back to full work while his claws were already springing forward, a menacing snikt in the absolute darkness around him that should hopefully be a warning to whoever was in this damn car with him. On the back seat by the sound of an also quite exhausted-sounding voice, while Logan's hectic movements could now make out that he had to be on the passenger side in the front. Restricted space, shitty for a fight unless he wanted to rip the interior right to pieces, it flashed in his mind. He gritted his teeth, preaching himself patience, something not exactly easy when you'd been forced off the road unprovoked by some Neanderthal. "Who is this?"

The stranger didn’t seem too impressed by either his threat or the growl in his voice. Still not moving an inch at where he was laying, breathing so almost inaudibly shallow that Logan hadn’t picked up on the guy's presence immediately, the stranger only turned the slightest bit toward Logan, followed by a pained hiss. "Name's Scott Summers. My team partner and I came to help you after our employer had heard about a planned attack on you."

Logan gave the stuck door another annoyed hit, ignoring the stranger's weird warning, his teeth quickly starting to chatter from the unholy temperatures. "Well, great job."

"We almost got you and the girl out of there in time," that Scott guy continued as if he hadn’t even heard him, still in that strained voice. "But a second enemy showed up that we weren’t expecting. Shapeshifter, excellent hand-to-hand combatant. Took my partner right out before she even knew what was coming. When I tried to help her, the man who was after you attacked me from behind. They took the girl for some reason. Still trying to make any sense of that. Us, they apparently had no use for."

"No shit." Logan rubbed his ears repeatedly and felt the car's doors and windows down a little more carefully this time because his instincts let him know more clearly by the moment that something was alarmingly wrong about this precarious situation that the two of them were in. Which Logan had no doubt in by now. He didn’t even necessarily have to rely on his instincts to know the guy wasn’t lying. For that, that fight earlier which Logan had mostly missed, had taken audibly a far too big physical toll on him. And yet they were both alive – not that in Logan's case, that was much of a surprise, of course. With how ruthlessly the fur bastard had ripped Logan's car basically apart earlier though, that was more than weird. His throat immediately tightened just thinking what such a primitive bastard might want with an innocent homeless minor who wasn’t anywhere as used as Logan to people trying to use her for some shit. Since that was obviously not the case this time, he tried in vain to wrap his head around why these people hadn’t at least tried to get rid of him and his involuntary car neighbor. Why they'd only been left them behind in this piece of junk that of course didn’t react to Logan tentatively slipping one of his claws into the ignition slot either, in whatever place this was, with obviously entirely isolated walls and no lightning … About high time to find out. "I need to go after the girl, bub. Stay where you are. I'll cut us out of here."

"Don't. We are …" This time it sounded like an order, and from someone who was used to giving them, no less. An uncompromising sharp tone ruined only by a cough following that elicited a series of agonized moans and more labored breathing. Rib or lung damage.

Usually not Logan's problem but if for some reason, they were really stuck in here, he could maybe use the guy's help still. Not to mention that the dude had allegedly tried to help him earlier. Wasn’t asked too much to try and return the courtesy, hurry or not. "We're what? And what's with the wheezing? Fur guy got you bad?"

"Could be worse," Scott answered when he could talk again, but the faint smell of copper in the air revealed, that cough had brought up some body fluid. "He didn’t need to ghost me anyway. It was enough to fling me against some tree so I was too concussed to use my powers. And they were too pressed on time for torture just for the sake of it for once, unlike in some of our last fights. They rather decided they wanted to bury us in my partner's and my jeep and let exposure do the job for them."

When it finally, finally clicked, Logan felt even more ice-cold. "You telling me we're underground, bub?"

"Avalanche," Scott answered tensely which wasn’t exactly better news. "The guy who attacked you caused it. I was only half conscious at that point, so I can't say how deep we are exactly. As long as you stop trying to open the car, we should have a couple of hours of air, though, and the snow masses shouldn’t crush it either. The jeep's body is quite stable. Just don't open the damn window, unless you want gravity to do the job for those assholes. My people will track me down and get us out of here. Just stay put."

"When some assholes have kidnapped an innocent teenager? I think not." But hard as he tried, Logan couldn’t come up with a solution to end this unfortunate situation either. Sure, he could have easily cut through the car's body and probably dug his way out of the snow bit by bit too. But depending on how deep under they really were, chances were he would pass out from hypothermia again and again which would in the end take just as much time as waiting here for some obscure rescue. Not to mention, he'd have military voice dude here on his conscience. "You sure your people are on their way?"

"Absolutely. We have … ways of communicating, even without a radio signal. My boss knows that something's wrong. Another one of my teammates will be here soon." It sounded like the guy was faintly smiling for some reason but he didn’t seem ready to elaborate further. "The woman I came here with will soon be waking up again as well, I hope. Her injuries didn’t look that bad. She's atmokinetic, so it's possible she can melt the snow even before the others come."

"A couple of maybes too many for my taste, kid." Logan rubbed his eyes with a bone-deep sigh, resigning for now to the fact that they had no choice but to wait. At least for a couple of hours, he guessed, he could do that. After that … It was not impossible he'd no longer have to worry about leaving someone to die in here either way. At least that unhappy possibility, he probably should be trying to counteract, given that this guy and his people, whoever they were, might save his ass again soon. Good thing, Logan had found unexpectedly something very useful, absently patting down his jacket for a cigar and a flask out of habit alone. "First, let's make sure you'll still be drawing air with that fucked up lung of yours by the time we're rescued." Pulling out said package of matches, he turned around on the seat, getting up on his knees left and right of the center dashboard, and then lit a first flame to finally get a look at his fellow captive and especially the guy's injuries.

Logan drew in a sharp breath when he saw the man's black uniform hanging in shreds from his upper body. In spite of the meager lighting, he was pretty sure these razor-sharp claws hadn’t stopped at scratching that layer of clothing open, too. A couple of cuts couldn’t be why that remarkably tall and lean-looking shape was curled up so tightly on his side on the back seat though. Neither did they explain the distorted grimace on a face that Logan had to actively tear his gaze away from because holy shit, military guy was hot. Which wouldn’t matter soon given Scott obviously didn’t come with a healing factor. Logan would at least have to try and help with his jacket in a second, but first, he needed to know what he was dealing with here. "Let me see." With a curse, he threw the match away when it burned out on his fingertips and clipped off a new one, feeling with increasing annoyance that not even half of the package was left. He should be smoking less. Or buy a couple of damn Zippos more. "I'm not gonna have a lot of time to give you a hand, bub, so be quick and don't make a fuss. Uniform off. Not much of a loss, frankly. Did you get here right after some fetish club visit or what?"

"Combat gear, asshole," Scott grumbled, but it didn’t sound entirely pissed, more worn out as Logan noticed with increasing worry. The smell of blood was impossible to ignore at this point. At least the guy obeyed, judging by the rustling of what was left of the stiff black material on his chest.

When the noise stopped, Logan lit another match and swallowed a curse, staring at the gaping gash at the guy's side through which a hint of white showed, with wide eyes, before pulling off his jacket, to get to his shirt for a necessary bandage. "Anyone ever tell you, you got the self-preservation sense of a lemming, kid? We don't wrap that up, you'll bleed out in less than half an hour."

"Been through worse." The sad thing was, that sounded sincere. "I'll be alright as soon as the others come. We got some pretty useful technological and medical toys at our home."

"Yeah, well, you're not home right now." Logan threw the second burned-out match away and got out of his shirt, leaning to the back again to try and find Scott's hand at where it was clumsily pressed to that frightening bleeding. "Put that down on it. Tightly. Gonna see if I find something better in the glove box."

"You won't." Right, car belonged to this guy; he would know. At least there was a hint of energy back in that warm, deep voice now, instead of that exhaustion bordering almost on resignation from a moment ago. "First aid kit should be in the back though, along with a couple of blankets. Supplies, too. If you can cut through the seats with those knives of yours …"

"Not exactly knives, kid." With a bit of maneuvering, Logan made it to the back seat, now kneeling right beside Scott's cramped shape, hissing when he realized even through both their clothes, the young man's body was already alarmingly cold. About high time to move. Since he had no interest in accidentally kebabing the dude even more than he already was, he found Scott's free, trembling hand where it was tightly clutching down on his other arm and handed the matches to him. "Hold one right to the backrest." Because of his trembling, it took Scott a moment to light one of the remaining sticks but once that was done, Logan made short work of the upper part of those seats. He expected the usual shock on Scott's face that Logan was being used to from people seeing his claws for the first time and shrugged his surprise away when it never came, maybe because the young man still had his eyes firmly closed. If the guy really came from a place where there were more of their kind, he'd probably witnessed weird shit before either way. Logan needed to bend and twist a little to get to the medical supplies and by that time, the match was already out again, but Logan had already spotted all he needed to see. He put not only the kit but also a six-pack of water and a couple of prepacked sandwiches down in front of the backseat before turning on the two strong headlights also part of the car's equipment, hanging them from the front seat's headrests with a relieved sigh. "You guys always leave the house prepared for a whole field trip?"

Scott gave him a still weak but honest-looking grin and damn Logan if he didn’t catch himself staring at that chiseled, youthful face yet again instead of fumbling with medical supplies. "Our mansion doubles at a school. Always prepared comes with the job description."

"Yeah, I don't think I even want to know, bub." That was a blatant lie, but for now, there were more important things to do than talking about trivialities. Logan already rummaged for bandages in the kit when Scott reached for his arm in an uncoordinated movement, grunting when that obviously caused new pain in his side. "There should be a small metal box on the left side by the spare wheel. Black circular device, red glass." At a loss yet again about what the guy was going on about, Logan leaned down to the trunk once more, not least because the makeshift bandage of his shirt seemed to slow the bleeding enough for now, and the urgency in Scott's voice let him know, it was important to the young man.

He only understood when the guy slipped said device, looking like something taken from some old Star Trek series, over his eyes and let out a careful hiss before turning his head Logan's way. "Thanks. Sabretooth took my other VISOR. Oh shit, you really took your shirt off for me, huh?" An askew little smirk curled on these beautiful full lips that would have probably sent Logan's hormones into overdrive for good if it hadn’t been that damn cold.

He decided he could think about that, and about what the deal with the guy's eyes was later, finally getting to work, provisionally disinfecting and taping up the ugly wound by Scott's side. The hint of interest took a backseat when he leaned in closer to the guy's half-naked body and had to swallow thickly at spotting a whole map of scars covering the smooth, enticingly soft skin, some quite old looking, some clearly fresh. "For someone who looks like they've only just graduated, you sure got a lot of miles covered, Shades."

"I'm 29 but thanks, I guess. And I was orphaned at twelve if you need to know. Ran into a few very unpleasant people on the way." Scott circled an especially dangerously looking trace right over his left hipbone absently, sounding like he was miles away with his thoughts for a moment, his shoulders tight in visible agitation. "When my boss took me in at the age of fifteen, he had me taught me how to fight back. It seemed only logical then, to help others do the same and try to change some of the shit going on in this world for mutants for the better."

"Not a choice anyone should make at fifteen, bub." Only Logan knew very well that especially being a member of their race, that kind of choice often didn’t ask for age of maturity. Again, he couldn’t help but think of the girl. Burying a nervous hand in his hair once he was finished with that bandage, he gritted his teeth as he was trying in vain not to imagine what these assholes of whom he still didn’t exactly know who they even were, might be doing to Rogue right this fucking moment.

"I guess not. So far I didn’t regret it though." A trembling, shy hand came to rest on Logan's elbow, and he could swear he could see Scott shudder not only from coldness at the feeling of Logan's thick muscles tensing instantly. "Care to tell me your story? Not like we got much else to do for now."

"I'm afraid I lost the memory of anything interesting to tell fifteen years ago. Been cage fighting my way through ever since, trying to find them again." Logan turned away with tight lips when Scott gasped in sympathy, leaning down to the trunk for a last time to get said blankets. Then he carefully wormed his way onto one of the seats, resting Scott's legs on his, telling himself bravely it was only so that the guy's system wouldn’t crash for good at some point. Once they were both comfortable and warming up under all of the blankets available and once Logan had thrust a bottle and one of these disgusting-looking sandwiches into Scott's hand, his thoughts wandered back to today's events. "Seriously, in this world of freaks, I'm the least interesting guy you could find out there. Why did you people ever think, these assholes were after me? They obviously wanted the girl."

Scott showed a just as clueless-seeming shrug. "We'll have to ask the Professor when he gets home. He's got a mental gift, you see. It's not always entirely reliable. Which is also why we couldn’t pinpoint your exact location in time. Or the girl wouldn’t be in these bastards' hands right now. We failed big time today, Logan. This cannot be happening. Too much is depending on my team for that." For a moment, he clenched his fists, an expression almost of self-loathing flitting over that handsome face.

"Hey, Shades." Logan instinctively reached out for that scrunched-up face without even thinking about it, his own half-eaten sandwich forgotten on his lap, and shook his head at the stranger disapprovingly. "From my point of view, without you guys? I'd be stuck alone down here right now. I got a power set that won't let me die but let me tell you, freezing into an ice cube over and over again is not something I got a fetish for. You guys helped without even knowing me, so that whole doing some good for this world thing doesn’t seem to go that bad. And these primitive motherfuckers, we'll find as soon as we're out of here. Next time I'll be prepared, don't worry." He demonstratively extended his claws on his free hand again, shuddering a little when he saw the definitely more than just a little interested look, Scott was regarding his main weapons with, the clean-shaven skin under his soothing touch maybe now heating up not just from the returning healthier body temperature. Maybe, when all this was over … Taking a closer look at that weird school, wherever it was, wasn’t a bad idea. It wasn’t like chasing ghosts had gotten Logan anywhere so far. Only when Scott belatedly seemed to realize for how long Logan's touch had been lingering there on his cheek and he startled, looking away, his expression one of a bad conscience, Logan let go of him as if he'd burned himself. "Sorry, bub, was just trying to make sure you're warming up. No need to worry that your girl at home's gonna be jealous or something." It was only a stab in the dark, but judging by this even darker blush on Scott's cheeks and the way he was biting his lower lip, Logan was pretty sure he wasn’t that far off with the assumption of a committed partner. Just his luck.

"Jean hasn’t been jealous of anyone for a long time, to be honest," Scott murmured in an unexpected new wave of sadness, staring into nothing another time for long seconds. "Her and me … That hasn’t been anything but show and convenience for two years or so. I guess I just didn’t have a reason to admit that even to myself so far."

Logan was pretty sure the guy was only just talking so much, and to a stranger no less, because of a beginning fever. Not to mention, he was still busy dealing with his own increasing attraction to someone he'd literally only just met. So he decided rather to not say anything to that. But he crossed his arms lightly enough on Scott's muscular thighs under those blankets, to keep an eye on the guy's body temperature, stared at the dull grey and glistening of the snow frozen heavily against the windows, and lost himself to his thoughts.

*****

It was less than two hours, in the end, it turned out, before they could hear the telltale scraping and crunching of the snow around them being worked on from the outside. When Scott woke up from a few hopefully healing minutes of sleep, he listened with that absent look on his face again, his head tilted, to something only seemed to be hearing. With growing relief in his voice, he confirmed that it was indeed his people trying to get to them, not the enemy for some reason. "Ororo's alright, too. We'll fly to Westchester to regroup. The Professor is already looking for Rogue with his powers. We'll find her, Logan, I promise." He firmly grabbed Logan's hand, his jaw thrust forward in determination.

"You bet your cute little ass on it, Slim." As long as the snow cover was still intact and no one could see them, Logan thought it couldn’t hurt to hold on to that encouraging touch for a moment. Maybe, once Shades guy had taken care of certain interpersonal issues in his house, they could even go back to that at some point. "And once this all is over … Seeing as we've already almost died side by side … Wanna give trying to live together a shot next?"

Scott snorted but made no move to pull away. "That's the worst possible pick-up line you could have come up with, you know."

Logan shrugged and reached for a cigar in his pocket with his free hand. "Not much of a romantic."

"Good," Scott simply said, an enchanting small smile on his lips, and that was all that needed to be said for the moment.

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

@scoganbingo

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: Genesis —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: There is something about this man's eyes is impossible to not fall for him -Danny

Words: 1,205

Phase Six Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Quiver’ -by Lonas

viii: As Bad As It Gets

It was time to say goodbye to her life in that universe. She had no friends except the people at the welfare, all significantly older. Parker's friends, few and busy, never had the opportunity to meet her, he felt like they'd never believe she was a real person.

She didn't go out with him to patrol, which made the New Yorkers curious. Who on earth was that mysterious hero patrolling with Spider-man? She had Spider-man's powers, but also some others they'd never seen before— one day she was gone, had she died in a secret mission?

Cat had a kick of watching the conspiracy shows that talked about her, she was called an android, then a faux projection Spider-man would carry around to scare off large groups of lawbreakers— and then her old-time favorite (made by the one and only J.J. Jameson) she was a mercenary Spider-man hired after he'd released her from a Russian prison.

She'd fallen asleep on the couch when Parker entered down the skylight. Cat sat up, it wasn't normal for him to be so noisy when he came back from patrolling, he'd always been quiet so he didn't scare her and made her think an intruder was there to murder her.

"Bug?" She asked out loud.

She heard Parker groan in reply. Cat leaped out of the couch and opened the bathroom door hurriedly: Parker's suit had a red stain on its side. He was holding his wound tightly but he was too dizzy to get up.

"Jesus..." Cat held her breath. "What happened?"

"Tiny guy but boy did he have a killer aim..."

She pull up the upper part of his suit and stared at the bullet wound. "If he had a killer aim, why are you still alive?"

He pushed himself towards the bathtub. "If he'd had deathly aim I wouldn't be here. Dude was decent, he saw a chance and took it..." he groaned. "My god, I'm in pain..."

She pressed her hands against the wound in spite of her disgust. "You're lucky the bullet just took a bit of muscle and skin... that's gonna leave an ugly scar, though..."

"Can you put me back together so I can go to sleep?" His head fell back against the edge of the tub. "I don't scar easily, don't worry about it..."

"What about these?" She vaguely pointed at the thin scars across his chest.

"A giant lizard gave me those— one of a kind," with Cat's help he took off the top part of his suit. "A bullet's nothing to worry 'bout."

She went back to the sink listing under her breath all the things she needed, she put it on top of the toilet's lid. "So how come your senses didn't warn you about the gun?"

"More than one person was pointing at me, so I took a wild guess and—" Parker hissed when she started to clean his wound. "I failed."

"My Peter wouldn't have failed," she joked.

"Go stuff your mouth with cotton."

Cat grinned. "Hang tight, handsome. This will hurt." The young woman did her best to stop the bleeding, once that was under control, she began to stitch his skin back together. Parker started to doze off. "Hey, hey!" She slapped his face lightly. "Don't do that."

"I'm sorry, you're just such a great nurse I'm getting sleepily..."

"Of course I'm a good nurse! I'm a trained agent, I can do without my tech from time to time, you know?" She scoffed. "But I think the blood loss is the real problem..."

"I'll rest my eyes... while you finish down there..." he leaned back.

She put pressure on his injury, but Parker didn't wince. She'd numbed that part of his body before stitching. "C'mon, Webster, stay with me..."

Cat wondered if he'd been injured internally— if he'd been hit on the head, or something she couldn't see without E.D.I.T.H. or M.O.U.S.E., and that's when she panicked. She looked around, going to the kitchen felt like a whole street away if she couldn't see him. When she finished with the bandage she grabbed him and carried him out toward the bed. "I feel like a damsel in distress," he muttered against her.

"You're the madman," she corrected moodily, placing him on the mattress as carefully as possible. "What were you doing with those guys?"

"I was looking for intel."

"Intel?"

"We need to figure out those defense satellites, right?" He mumbled, one hand pressing his bandage. Cat slapped his hand away. "But things went south fast..."

"Why didn't you tell me?" She demanded.

"Can I get some sugar now, please?" His head fell on the pillow. "Remember I lost blood?"

"Don't lay down!" She pulled him back up and against the headboard. Cat went to the kitchen and grabbed an apple juice from the fridge. She stabbed the small box with one of her claws to widen the opening so he could drink from it easier. "Don't finish it all at once, you'll throw up," she warned him.

Parker stared at the box and drank a little, she kept an eye on his wound. The mutant then glanced at her bloody hands. The sight made her shiver, she didn't want to imagine what would happen to him if something like that were to happen once she was gone. Parker looked at her guilty expression.

"I didn't want to put you at risk," he said hoarsely. "You keep saying how it's a relief to leave all the persecution behind, I didn't want you to go through it again."

Her gaze softened. "I rather being at risk than wake up to you bleeding out in the bathroom."

The young man stared at her hands, he held one of them and examined the blood on her fingers in detail. "I'm sorry, I know you hate the smell."

"I've had blood on my hands before," she moved away from him. "At least this time I was trying to save a life, instead of taking it..."

His eyes were fixed on her, lips pressed together in a pout. "I wish you didn't have to live like that..."

"What makes you think I have to and not that I want to?"

Parker grabbed her hand again and guided it to his chest. She'd never paid attention to the scars there, but at that moment they stood out on his skin like an encrypted message she was eager to decipher.

"D'you think I wanted to get hurt?"

Cat felt a heartbeat but she wasn't able to tell whose it was. "I think you wanted to do the right thing."

"That's what I think about your scars too."

His hand moved from hers and stopped at the crease of her elbow, caressing it. Cat was unable to push him away this time, worse yet, she couldn't move either. She stared at his scars more intently, her fingers following the lines. She pressed on them lightly. Parker breathed in sharply through his nose, she could hear his heart doubling its pace.

"Do you really have to go?" He asked weakly, it sounded like he'd held back those words for too long. "Do you want to?"

She thought of the scars Kurt certainly had gained after the hell he'd gone through, the ones Peter and Kate would get if they tried to fight Kraven, if they could even walk away in one piece. Cat moved her hand away.

"You're making it harder to figure it out."

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

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[toaster-is-babey]

CW: mentions of injury/coping with trauma, toxic past relationships (nothing detailed/indepth don't worry ). Mattie is my vent sona and what not.

Also @z-eddsworld hope yore up for a long read man, finally did a semi-decent ref of Mattie :)

Here is my mad lad Matthew. He is a character from an old au i grew extremely attached to. Though i discontinued the au because i couldnt be arsed to finish the story for it. I am repurposing some characters from the au tho :)!

Name: Matthew Raeburns

Nicknames: Mattie(prefers to be called this, will punch you otherwise), Gingie, Doll face, Matts, freckles, spot, bitch, Mattie-Beear(only by his partners)

Age: 29

Sexuality: Homosexual, demiromantic

Gender: Male/questioning

Pronouns: He/it

Height: 5'5/166cm

Body type: usually pudgy, can be drawn a little slim

Hair : red/deep ginger, very fluffy, curly and soft, cowlick is a must

So i repurposed Him into a kinsona/Oc earlier last year.

He does/will have visible scars in future art. But for his half finished doodle ref I'll probably redo in the future lmao.

He belongs in my and my friends @mrhappypills au

No mercy AU

Mattie is the middle child in his family.

He has an older brother named Fredrick aka Freddy/Fred

His younger sister has yet to be named.

Alfred is Matties father, and they loath eachother. Though now that Alfred is older, he is hoping to somehow through a miracle Reconnect with his son again. Though its fairly tough, as both Mattie and Alfred are hot-headed and fight everytime they see eachother. They both refuse family therapy lmao

Jacqueline is Matties deceased mother. More information will be posted as i redesign her and develope her character more ^^

He is Neurodivergent, he has trouble putting thought to pen, or thoughts to speech.

He is sensitive with what fabric he uses, he prefers soft or fluffy clothes, it calms his nerves. He bruises like a Peach, though he is clumsy so you'll see him with an ice pack or simply a glass of wine(or whiskey) .

In Matthews teenage years, He was edgy, as most teenagers are . Though he did get himself into a lot of fights because of boredom Atleast until he met his first love, A norse-american transfer student, and was very infatuated with him. They dated close to 5 years. Their break up was a nasty one, as Mattie had blinded Tjøstolv. They both started to get toxic towards eachother and often fought, often ending with both of them leaving the house for a night or two.

Tjøstolv had paid for a large part of his boyfriends schooling, he loved his boyfriend to bits and loved how cute his partner looked when he was focused on work. though being in the public eye often, he grew stressed, and tired, causing him to start fights. On another note, Tjø himself doesnt mind simple jobs, like doing IT work, it calms him.

Will post art of this wealthy rat man when i can for now take a screenshot eddit

'nother screenshot eddit. Tjø has heterochromia, eyepatch lad next to him is Delta, which belongs to @mrhappypills

Silly fun fact: matties flesh and blood is a vibrant Purple/fuchsia. No real reason on how that happened just thought it was funky and cool (⁠ ⁠´⁠◡⁠‿⁠ゝ⁠◡⁠`⁠)

Heads up, i know nothing really science-y, im taking inspiration from shows i love. As this takes place in a cartoon-y universe, logic definitely wont apply lmao

Mattie was quite the prodigy, and had finished his later years of secondary school, he'd gotten recommendations to some pretty snazzy universities. He studied different modes of transportation, will take apart your car for fun. Though he was dead set on one day to home explore other worlds, it definitely took a long time, but when he had completed his final safety trial, he had somehow ended up in the wild west, in spit-bucket america, seeing a nearly identical man to himself sitting at the bar, he couldnt believe his eyes. An old Timey version of himself and a handsome looking dude being flirty(screenshot eddit by me :) )

Mattie has travelled many worlds,though found himself stuck in one. Not because of technical issues, but a Man. One he's never seen in other worlds. A wealthy business man named William. Though Mattie worked on technology for william, he somehow with his skrunkly charm managed to seduce him. It took William a while to realize Mattie was flirting with him. They're a power couple now though :)

Screenshot eddit of Lucian>Mattie>William

Art of William and Mattie made by my pal orange,

Im so sorry lmao(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

I could definitely go on for hours about Mattie and his life, but I've written enough already (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) Anywho I hope y'all have a lovely day and a happy new year(⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+