#I had to write the second part

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Happy Birthday to Fallen London; My favourite British people beefing it with bats simulator.

[veinsfullofstars]

“Any more stupid questions?”

Bonus live reactions to being saved from a Dark Matter ambush:

Started 07/13/24, finished 07/27/24, updated for color correction 11/02/24. | Kintsugi AU Masterpost

[brainmuncher]

Many years ago, in a different country, a set of twins were born. In another room, a runaway league of assassin also gave birth to a baby boy.

To punish the runaway, a hit was put on their newborn son. The assassin silently traversed the hospital and grabbed the baby from off the cart as the nurse was distracted.

After successfully securing the child the assassin ran off into the woods behind the hospital. They grinned to themselves as this was their first mission and glad to have made such a great success. Preparing a dagger in one hand they raise it above the child to strike when...

The wristband on the baby twisted to look at them, and with horror, they read the last name 'Grayson'.

They kidnapped one of the Grayson twins...

In a panic, they threw the baby into the woods and fled back to the hospital. But by the time they got there to kill the real baby they were sent for it was too late. The runaway assassin and the child were gone.

Meanwhile, two ectobiologists scour the woods behind a hospital on their honeymoon. What better way to celebrate marriage than with ghost hunting in a new country!

Then they hear the sounds of crying... suffering spooks! Is that a baby? Well we already have our daughter... why not give her a new baby brother :)

Dick notices that Talia gives him a weird look whenever she sees him. It's one that he has never seen her wear towards any of the other bats, so it bothers him.

Then one day after Damian and him defeat an assassin sent to kill Damian Talia shows up and says something that makes Dicks blood run cold.

“I'm so glad that you're the Grayson twin that hadn't been killed.”

[zivazivc]

“Your hair…

“Les…

“Leslie.”

“Mmhm?”

Les barely stirred in his sleep and the iridescent golden speckles in his dreads already started to dull and the rest of his hair started to darken. It was as if a large cloud had just passed over them and blocked out the sun during this uneventful, pleasant afternoon nap.

Floyd snapped out of his surprise, but only partially as he fisted the desaturating hair in a thoughtless attempt to hold onto the fleeting moment. But much like sand, the harder he squeezed the quicker the color and shine drained between his fingers as Les roused.

Sensing Floyd’s distress, he quickly lifted his head.

“What’s wrong?”

Floyd felt tongue-tied, still stunned from what he had just witnessed. He was staring at Les—the familiar dark-haired Les that he knew all the quirks and details of better than the back of his own hand—, and who he was now trying to picture with the out-of-nowhere sparkles and saturated brightness. But he hadn’t even noticed the change appearing, and by the time he realized what he was seeing, it was already gone.

“Your dreads…” he finally blurted out, “they were golden.”

The crease of worry between Les’s brows smoothed out into a more relaxed look of confusion.

“It’s just a dirty yellow-green color,” he said while glancing to the right, at his three dreads flopping over the side of his face. “But I guess it sometimes looks a bit like gold in the—”

“No, I mean for real. And your hair was bright,” Floyd cut in, “like, as bright as mine.”

Les hesitated, trying to process Floyd’s steady wide-eyed expression, before pulling a strand of his dark purple hair in front of his face. He inspected it carefully but decided it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary the way Floyd claimed.

“My hair’s always been this shade. Are you feeling okay?”

[wandixx]

GIW made a lot of mistakes and the biggest one was going against Young Justice part 2

part one is here

@whimsicalchaosgarden you asked to be tagged, sorry it took so long

Trigger warnings: mentions of experimentation and dehumanization (tell me if there is more appropriate way of phrasing it)

“So,” Robin started, taking the voice recorder out of his utility belt. “It'll probably be best if we get an explanation while making an accident report. This way we get it all over sooner”

Everyone agreed with this idea, standing in the loose circle in the debriefing area to make it all feel more serious. They had limited time before the next batch of cookies needed to be taken out of the oven and there was no way they all wouldn't devolve into chaos when it happened. M’gann knew from experience. 

To make sure they wouldn't take too long and cookies wouldn't turn on the fire alarm (again) both she and Danny set a timer.

In the meantime they had to learn who actually attacked them earlier.

“Phantom do the honors”

Danny froze for a moment, looking like deer caught in the headlight before he asked in a bit squeaky voice:

“How do I make an accident report?”

“Just say what happened but make it sound fancy,” Artemis explained. 

“Make a mission report and we'll fix it along the way,” Kaldur proposed.

“Answer ‘When? Where? Who was involved? What happened? What have you done about it?’ without excessive use of puns to avoid Bat-lecture” Robin helped, already in handstand.

“Bat-lecture? Really Rob?”

“So it's like lab report lite” Danny said before Robin did anything more than squawk indignantly “Alright, I can do it. Do you have any set phrase to start? And which accident report is it, in the database?"

“44th… How about ‘[Hero name], report’? Sounds serious enough.”

Everyone agreed, so after a moment of silence Kaldur did the honors.

“Phantom, report”

Danny straightened, rolling his shoulders back and locked his eyes in the middle distance. It was a bit eerie how fast he went from relaxed and goofy to almost emotionless statue. M’gann wished to never encounter it again, thank you very much.

“Incident report no. 45 made by Young Justice member Phantom, regarding an attack from earlier today, 26th April 20XX. The Young Justice Team, later referred to as the Team, went on a trip to an amusement park staying currently in the city of Happy Harbour. It was an activity meant to strengthen interpersonal relationships within the Team, previously green-lit by Red Tornado. Every member was in civilian attire as per protocol. Around 3:15 PM, after two and a half hours, the Team were disturbed by a group of ten armed people, recognized by member Phantom as belonging to Ghost Investigation Ward, colloquially known as GIW or Guys In White because of their uniforms. Later in the report the organization will be referred to as the GIW. Two shots were fired by the assailants, targeting but not reaching member Phantom. Members of the GIW were hostile but with use of humor and threat of legal actions, the Team managed to diffuse the situation before it endangered passerbys. Despite direct attack, none of the Team members’ identities were compromised. Assailants left the confrontation with belief that Phantom left his ectoplasmic signature on an unrelated civilian. Agents refused to admit they were working for the GIW since its operations break a couple of laws of the state Rhode Island. Because of that, their appearance was reported to local law enforcement and taken care of. No injuries or damage to the city infrastructure were sustained other than two burns in the asphalt in the place of confrontation. Required follow-up with local law enforcement in civilian attire as victims of assault. End of report” Danny sighed, easing back into a more natural position. “This good?” he asked, with a sheepish smile.

“Perfect”

“How are you so good at reporting? You didn’t even know what to do a second ago? That’s just unfair”

“I used to write my parent’s lab reports. It’s pretty similar in form”

“Lab-”

“Follow-up to the report only, Kid-Flash,” Robin interrupted “Phantom. elaborate on who were the assailants”

Danny stepped back from himself again.

“GIW is a ghost hunting organization supported and accredited by the state government in Illinois, legally operating also in states Wisconsin and Ohio. Their goal is to catch and examine ecto-entities to learn more about their biology and ways to obliterate them. Obviously their plans for experimentation don’t include consideration of ghosts’ well-being”

“Damn, that’s messed up”

“They wouldn't catch a blob ghost if they tried,” Danny shrugged, though something was wrong with the gesture. She wasn't sure though, so she moved on.

“Then why were you scared?” M’gann pressed on instead.

“My parents… are, you know, prominent ghost hunters so when GIW opened we all got a tour around the whole building. The lab was… it made me imagine things I wished I had never thought about”

“They have labs? Like evil labs?” Robin perked up like a kid who just heard that Christmas came early. “How could you hide it from us?!” he added, falling to hang on Danny's shoulder. He twirled a bit to catch the left one even though before he stood on halfa’s right side. Dramatic as always “Conner, we have a birthday gift for you!”

“What does GIW’s lab have to do with my birthday?”

“The potential!” Robin yelled, straightening for a better effect.

Everyone started laughing. Well, everyone other than Conner who just looked at them confused.

“He probably wants to storm another lab, bring up nostalgia of our first meeting,” Kaldur calmed down just enough to explain.

“Tell me you wouldn't like to punch an evil scientist,” Wally added, almost dropping to the floor. 

“This does sound nice”

“And THIS is exactly the reason why I haven't told you all. Thanks for spoiling my surprise Rob,” Danny lied, though he did his best to sound truthful. He even projected some false mirth.

It would take much more to trick M’gann though. She abruptly stopped laughing.

“You're lying. Why actually haven't you told us?” she demanded maybe a little too harshly, but she was worried. Everyone froze for a moment, before turning to look at Danny.

“They're all bark no bite, and aim worse than Stormtroopers’, so I haven't considered them important enough to report”

Other's didn’t know, of course, but M’gann knew just how terrified Danny was during the confrontation and how echoes of that fear soured air around him even hours later.

Everyone did realize this explanation was a tone of bullshit though. 

Apparently incredulous stares were enough of the response.

“You and the Justice League have more important things to deal with than some shitty local laws”

“Bullshit again,” Artemis burst her lips “This is exactly what Justice League is for”

“I already found people to help me lobby against them”

“And why aren't we on the list?” 

Danny fell silent, not looking anyone in the eyes, which was quite a feat considering they had him in a half circle. M’gann considered moving to his side to show her support. Stare down like that had to be quite stressful.

Why not actually. She stepped closer, and drew him in the loose side hug. Danny tensed, which wasn't abnormal for him. He usually relaxed in about thirty seconds, if he didn't, she'd let go.

“I didn't expect them to breach the containment…”

“Each of these lies is worse, you know? Like, insulting our intelligence level of worse,” Artemis interrupted once more, pinning him with her eyes alone “Give us truth or stop talking”

Danny raised his head to look back at Artemis and mimed zipping his mouth shut and throwing the key away. 

“Really?”

Boy just shrugged, not breaking eye contact.

“Alright, let's move on to the next question, how did it get approved in the first place?” Wally interrupted, waving his hand between them. They both shook off like dogs fresh out of water.

“Couldn't you wait five more seconds until I won?” 

“Ha! You wish Artemis. Though you could give us a moment”

“I gave you literal ages”

Danny snorted “Sorry, I keep forgetting how impatient you are”

“Oh shut up, my brain is just faster than yours, you slowpokes”

“Sure, sure”

“He made a good point,” Kaldur said “This shouldn’t even pass. And even if, you’re legally a Meta”

“Normal ghosts aren’t and halfas being a thing is not exactly common knowledge among the living”

“I’ll never get used to this distinction”

“I believe in you, Rob”

“What about ‘Extraterrestrial, extradimensional and otherwise previously unincluded’ Optional Protocol to the ‘International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights’?”

“Oh my god Conner, you’re the only person to say the whole name ever”

“Hey!”

“It all comes down to the definition of the ghost and the fact that Alien addition uses sentience and sapience as a ground to give anyone said rights. And also, US signed it but didn’t ratify it so…”

“Isn’t it same thing?”

“Nope. I thought so too, but apparently signing anything means nothing unless it’s also ratified, so I’m kinda fucked. Can’t even get the UN to frown at them disapprovingly, because officially, nothing was agreed to. And you know, even if they ratified it, ecto-scientists conducted enough research to prove we aren’t sapient enough to have these rights anyway. Just most of the states didn’t need to make a law out of it”

“That’s rough buddy”

“Are you really quoting Avatar at me right now? Really Artemis?”

“Yes”

“Wasn’t Avatar this movie with blue people? I don’t think they said that there”

M’gann wasn’t quite sure why human members seemed to be appalled by the question.

“We’re going to fix that later-”

“What exactly is there to be fixed, because I feel like we’re talking about to different things”

“- but for now can we go back to the whole ‘ghosts have no rights in Illinois’ thing” Robin continued, completely ignoring Conner’s questions.

“Illinois, Wisconsin and Ohio. There are portals to the Zone in two of these states. GIW already tried to send nuke through one of them”

“How Americana of them,” Kaldur muttered.

“If you have another insane tidbit about them, please share it all now. My mind can’t utilize any more revelations like that”

“I handled it, don’t worry”

“Someone tried to nuke literal Afterlife…”

“Yup, get on the schedule Kid Flash. You’re supposed to be fast”

M’gann knocked her arm into his, kinda as a ‘don’t be mean’ message. Danny kinda tensed, but soon relaxed back and moved his head as if he wanted to lay it on her shoulder. Excitement of the day was clearly catching up to him.

M’gann wouldn’t be mad if he did laid his head there.

“Why do we learn about it just now?”

“I wrote the report, not my fault you haven’t read it”

“Can’t fault us for assuming we’d know every important thing from your endless bitching!”

Danny straightened and laughed, in this horrible humorless way that made M’gann want to claw at her brain until she couldn’t hear or sense any of it.

Instead, she brought her other hand up and just held him tighter.

Thankfully the whole spectacle didn’t last long.

“It’s cute that you think I bitch about anything important”

“Phantom…”

“Don’t Phantom me right now. Even if by some miracle they managed to send the missile to the Zone, it most likely wouldn’t have worked. They’re mostly just a joke.”

“They managed to shot you. Right upper arm or shoulder”

“Don’t deny it, we’ve seen you wince when I leaned on you and when M’gann hugged you”

Martian tried to let go hearing that, but Danny held her in place. She stayed where she was but carefully moved her hand away from the slightly damp area on his shirt. She suddenly caught on everything that was wrong with him, now that she knew to look for it.

“I got worse from the hand of my house’s security system”

“You… understand that it’s… like… way worse, right?”

“You don’t know life until you hear threats of dissection against your alter ego after stopping death ray with bowl of cereal,” he said, relaxing more into her side again. He sounded absolutely exhausted.

“Do you want to move in here? Until we deal with this whole GIW and assorted mess?” she said instead. Conner nodded, surprisingly eager to share the space that he considered somewhat sacred.

“Nope, I’m good, I’m needed there”

“You could Zeta- yeah, no, nevermind, it wasn’t good idea. But we could make it work”

“You still should-”

“It’s fine. I mean, I have it handled and it doesn’t affect that many people. And we’re working on it. It’s fine”

“It really is not,” Conner growled.

“You need your arm patched up” M’gann demanded, ignoring previous conversation, with eyes still fixed on the blood that stained her forearm. She should’ve destroyed at least Operative K.

“I bandaged it up”

“It soaked through then. Let’s go to med–”

Loud shrill interrupted her, because of course it did.

“Oh, look, convenient distraction! Let’s take the cookies out before they get burned!”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” M’gann stated in a way that allowed no argument “You’re getting away for now only because I’m holding most of your weight right now”

“Sure we will. And I can stand on my own, thank you very much”

“I’ve heard many lies today and this might be the worst of them. We’re going to Medbay as soon as the cookies are out”

“You’ve got it boss”

[twilightkitkat]

Part 4 of thinking about the reaction another universe's Logan would have to meeting Wade. To Wade and Logan's relationship.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

@ramblingautisticman @desperatelyneedcoffee @di-abolical @bladenbrush @animaniac1017 @amethyst-loves-bucky @lookimjusthereforthevibes @insantfishsoup @mischievous-thunder

---

They arrived back at the mansion in a haze.

By the time the other X-men arrived, the man who'd kidnapped Logan was long gone. He'd disappeared without a trace, and taken The Wolverine with him.

Apparently the fucker had planned this, considering the other X-men all encountered problems right when Wade, Logan, and Other-Logan had faced off with him. He was smart, using technology and some of his stronger underlings to hold them off long enough to make a clean escape.

The worst feeling was realizing it had been premeditated. He clearly set up a situation where he'd be capable of taking Logan—distracting the other X-men and making sure an ability restraint collar was nearby.

Moreover, he'd known that Wade's Logan was different from this world's Logan. He'd had plenty of openings for all of them, so it was clear that his choice to target his Logan was intentional.

(Did Wade lead Logan to his doom? Was he responsible for Logan's kidnapping if he indirectly brought him here, right into the open mouth of a hidden predator?)

The other X-men had tried to track him to no avail. When they returned, Charles tried to locate him using Cerebro, but he couldn't get a signal. The villain had even planned for that, probably using some rip-off Magneto helmet.

It made Wade want to scream. Or cry. Or both.

Other-Logan hadn't left his side since they'd returned. He'd kept a steady hand on his back or arm wrapped around his shoulders, grounding him. Wade wouldn't admit it out loud, but it was the only thing really tethering him to reality at the moment. The only thing stopping him from devolving into a full-blown panic attack like he had the second Logan left his sight.

(The X-men had found them there, curled up together on the ground. Logan was stroking Wade's hair and murmuring quietly, an arm protectively wrapped around his back. Wade was rocking back and forth slightly, a hysterical look in his eyes.

Logan had glanced back at them and jerked his head, signaling for them to leave. When a few hesitated, he damn near snarled as his arm tightened further, nearly crushing Wade in his grip.

They'd left them alone after that.)

Wade, for once, was silent. He couldn't keep up his typical stream of banter and crude humor when he knew Logan was in real danger. He stared off into the distance, barely registering anything around him.

In his peripheral vision, he saw people frantically running around. Relaying information. Shouting orders.

It all felt hazy. Like he was in a dream, witnessing everything unfold but unable to control it. His focus was simultaneously everywhere and nowhere all at once. He heard little tidbits of information—urgent whispering and confused reactions as the X-men tried to plan their next course of action—but he couldn't really hear anything.

It was like sand. He could feel it between his feet, vaguely, but if he tried to grasp out and focus on one area of information, he felt it slip through his fingers. Everything was blurring together—people formed into little blobs of color, and actions registered in his brain like a lagging computer.

He felt lost, for lack of a better word. Like he was drifting, waiting for the moment where he'd wake up and this would all be a dream. Waiting for the moment he could curl up next to Logan and reach out to cradle his face and finally fucking kiss him like he should've done ages ago.

Nothing was real. Everything was too real. Reality shattered into tiny little shards that buried themselves into his skin and made him bleed out until he was just a bloodless, lifeless, husk of a person.

(Wade just wanted to go home.)

---

Logan groaned, eyes flickering shut again as the bright light assaulted his eyes. Fucking hell, he thought, what did I drink to get this fucked up?

As he drifted into consciousness—slowly, as if his body was against the very idea of waking up—he became a bit more aware of his surroundings.

The place was unfamiliar to him. It looked clinical, almost like a laboratory or hospital of some type. Full of pristine white walls and beeping monitors and technology he was far too old to know the purpose of.

...Did I end up in a hospital, somehow? He figured his healing factor would kick in if he ever managed to drink enough to do serious liver damage, but maybe he'd overloaded it.

He tried to remember how he got here, what in God's name would possess him to drink like a sheltered Christian girl gone wild at her first college party, but his memory was hazy. Out of reach. He would try to grasp onto the tendrils of a vague image in his mind, only for them to jerk out of his grasp at the last moment.

He tried to sit up, to ask where the fuck he was and how he got there, but he slammed back on the table with a huff. He glanced down and saw he was strapped to it, tight leather straps binding his chest and arms and legs.

This probably wasn't a hospital, then. Good to know.

He tried struggling against the straps to no avail. It only caused them to chafe uncomfortably against his muscles.

The old-fashioned way, then. He unsheathed his claws and—

—What? Why weren't his claws coming out?

He tried clenching his hands into fists again and focusing on them. Trying to activate the signal that caused them to slide out of his knuckles so he could slice away his bindings.

Nothing.

He was starting to get anxious. He'd been calmer, before, knowing that he was practically unkillable and nobody would be stupid enough to try to kidnap him. He always had an easy out, whether it was regeneration or slicing his surroundings up.

He struggled harder against the leather, uncaring of how it left red marks imprinted on his skin. Wade would probably have a fucking field day if he saw Logan right now. He could already his voice in his head, cooing at him, "Awww, did peanut have a mishap with some bondage? How kinky. If you wanted to try it out all you had to do was ask."

Wait. Wade.

Where the fuck was Wade? What happened to him?

If Logan was here, did that mean Wade was trapped somewhere nearby? Or was he still at home in their apartment, blissfully unaware that Logan had been taken. If he realized Logan was gone, would he come to save him?

More than that, if these guys had a way of stopping Logan from using his claws, what could they do to Wade? When Wade inevitably came looking for him (he would, Logan knew he would) would he be prepared to deal with whatever they were using? Or was he under the influence of it right now?

Logan renewed his struggle with ferocity. He needed to warn Wade. Figure out if these fuckers had him or were targeting him and kill them. It was starting to burn now, to dig into his skin and twist until the layers peeled apart and he began bleeding.

He glared at the wounds. He wouldn't let a little blood stop him. He'd broken out from worse restraints before, weakened state aside. He didn't know who the hell took him, but they were idiots for only using a material as flimsy as leather to trap him. Even metal wasn't enough to hold The Wolverine. All he had to do was wait for the bruises and raw skin to heal and he'd keep going, working with persistence until his bindings were worn down.

Except he wasn't healing. He stared at the reddened skin, waiting for it to go back to normal. Nothing happened.

He felt the rawness of it in full. Felt the way it burned against the leather, aching for release. Felt the way it protested against the friction.

It wasn't going away.

Shit.

Something told Logan this was going to be harder than he thought.

---

"I brought you a glass of water," Logan cleared his throat awkwardly as he entered Wade's room, setting the cup down on his nightstand.

"...Thanks," Wade mumbled. Now that he thought about it, he guessed he was thirsty. His throat felt dry and scratchy, and his voice was hoarse when he spoke.

He picked up the glass of water and held it in his lap. He stared down at it, willing himself to drink but unable to move. All he could focus on was his own reflection in the water, a mangled mass of tumorous flesh that was barely held together by his skin fibers.

He kind of looked like a wrinkly avocado had an orgy with a pack of raisins and a vat of acid and spat him out. Or a sea sponge decided to have human offspring that got burnt in a forest fire. Either way, he looked freakish. Like a monster.

(He was a monster, wasn't he? Just sitting here while Logan was out there, unable to do anything. Useless as always. The only thing Wade was good for was comedic relief, and he wasn't even managing to do that right.)

"Are you gonna drink that, bub?"

Logan's voice startled Wade, tearing him away from his spiraling thoughts. He nearly dropped the glass of water, but managed to grab it in time. He gripped it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. If he applied any more pressure, he was pretty sure it would break. Shattered into glass fragments that would dig into his palms and the soles of his feet until he was as torn up on the outside as he felt on the inside. It was a tempting thought.

"Hey, Wade, can you hear me?" Logan waved his hand in front of Wade's eyes, a concerned expression plastered on his face.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry."

"No need to apologize. I was just checking in to see if you're gonna drink the water or keep staring at it like a mirror."

Wade grimaced slightly, but finally managed to lift the cup to his lips and take a sip.

And fuck, he was thirsty. As soon as the first bit of water hit his throat it was like he couldn't stop, like he finally registered how dry it felt. He gulped down the water hungrily in one go until none of it was left. He sighed in relief once it was gone, setting it back down sheepishly.

Logan looked at him, and Wade could practically see the gears turning in his head from how his stare burned into Wade's skull. He was considering something, going to open his mouth a few times before closing it, until he finally seemed to settle on something to say.

"You miss him, huh?" That didn't come out nearly as nice as Logan thought it would in his head, if his frustrated look was anything to go by.

"What gave you that impression?" Wade remarked drily.

"No, I mean—" Logan cut himself off and took a deep breath (he seemed to do that around Wade a lot) before speaking again, "You care about him. A lot."

Wade looked up uncertainly. Where was this going? "...I do," he reluctantly replied.

"...What would you do? If something happened to him, I mean?"

"I'd hunt down the fucker who dared to lay a hand on him and disembowel them. Tear them limb from limb. Burn them alive. Torture them in a slow and agonizing way until they were begging to die, and then keep going until there was nothing left of them," Wade's eyes sharpened for the first time since Logan had disappeared. His glare was fierce—a promise of unimaginable pain if anyone dared to lay hands on what was his.

"You'd do that? For him?" Other-Logan looked vaguely shocked, but at the same time hungry. Desperate to know more.

"I'd do that and more. I'd tear this fucking world apart if that's what it took to find him." A declaration. A promise.

"Why?" A breathless whisper.

"Because he saved me. Even if I was the one to haul his ass up and out of that goddamn bar, he saved me. He's the one who still chose to save my world even if he didn't know if he could save his own. He's the one who chose to sacrifice his life so I could go back to them. He's the one who held my hand to fucking Madonna as we beat the odds and both lived because we had each other."

"He..." Logan began.

"He's the one who accepted my shitty olive branch and came to my apartment. He's the one who made my stupid depressing bachelor's pad feel like a home. He's the one who goes with me on all of the grueling, hard missions and watches my back so we can take turns sleeping. He's the one who helps me walk Mary Puppins and goes grocery shopping with me and cooks me dinner that doesn't make me want to throw up. He's the one who—" Wade's voice cracked.

"Wade..."

"No, let me finish. I need to get this out. He's the one who wakes up next to me every morning. Who makes the days where I want to tear off my own fucking skin tolerable because at least I get to be beside him. He's the only one who looked at my disgusted, fucked-up shriveled ballsack of a face and didn't flinch. When even Vanessa did. He's the only one who saw me and still accepted it. Who stayed when I asked."

Tears began to fill his eyes, "And now he's gone because of me. He got taken away before I got to fucking tell him that. Before I could thank him properly for everything and tell him that I want him to stay forever. Now he could die thinking I left him behind on purpose, when all I've wanted to do since I met him was keep him close. I just... I wish I had the courage to man up. To tell him how I feel."

"How you feel?" Logan's eyes were dilated, and he darted out his tongue to lick his lips.

"Yeah, tell him that aside from the buddy-buddy partnership we've had going on, I wanted more. I wanted him. Entirely."

"In what way?"

"I wanted to fucking kiss him and never let go. And now... now I may never get the chance. I spent so fucking long agonizing over it, thinking that if I made a move I could ruin everything. And now it's all ruined anyway. And I don't even know if he feels the same."

"...What do you mean, you don't know if he feels the same?" Logan's stared at him, blankly.

"...I don't know if he returns my feelings? I know you're a little slow, Wolvie, but do I really need to spell it out for you?"

"You're being serious right now." Logan deadpanned. "You actually can't tell?"

"Can't tell what?"

"Look," Logan sighed. "When we get him back, just tell him how you feel. I doubt he—I—would react as badly as you're fearing."

"...How would you know?"

"Because I'm him. And there is no way in hell I wouldn't love you too." Logan's voice was firm, a fierce determination in his eyes.

"What?" Wade stared at him, dumbfounded.

"If I lived with you—hell, even if I didn't—in any universe, as long as you were the same person. I'd love you. I know it."

Wade laughed wetly. "You're just saying that. Because you feel bad for me. Because you don't even know if we're going to get him back and you're trying to reassure me."

"No, I'm not. I mean it."

"Yes, you are. Logan, you're—you're a hero. You're the X-man. You're fucking righteous and angry and strong and the image of peak masculinity. If testosterone had a human embodiment, you'd be it. You're meant to be in love with Jean Gray or some other woman who's kind and smart and pretty. Who completes the picture for you. Not me, a morally ambiguous mercenary who looks like they got dipped in the deep fryer at a McDonald's."

Other-Logan grabbed his face, suddenly. Leaned in until their foreheads were touching, until their lips were just inches apart.

"That's not true," he whisper-growled, "Why do you get to decide what would complete my picture, huh? Maybe instead of a boring pretty girl, I'd prefer a mouthy fucking mercenary who can't seem to wrap his head around the concept of self-worth. What if that were true instead?"

"Then I'd call you fucking delusional and a horrible liar," Wade retorted.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Is this delusional, then?"

Logan's lips crashed against his. Wade just barely had time to open his mouth in shock and then Logan's tongue was pushing its way in, scraping past his teeth and tangling with his.

Logan's arms slid around his back, grabbing onto his waist, and Wade leaned into the touch against his will. Logan pulled back for a moment, barely long enough to breathe, and then dove back at a deeper angle. Wade groaned, deeply in the back of his throat, and wrapped his arms around Logan's neck, digging his fingers into the hair at the base of his nape to yank him closer.

Wade began kissing back with fervor, pressing forward to swallow Logan's lips too. He pushed him over and Logan tumbled onto the bed with him, landing on his back as Wade pinned him from above. It felt good. Good in a way he'd long forgotten kisses could feel, since his mutation.

Wade felt like he was floating, like he was having an out-of-body experience. There was no way this could be real: him, making out with another version of Logan while his was kidnapped. It sounded like the plot of some shitty Wattpad fanfiction. (Or Tumblr, if he was being generous.)

Logan's arms slithered further down his back as Wade moved to grip his shoulders, leaning in impossibly closer. He felt a heat begin to coil in his gut. (Really? Now, of all times? With him, of all people?)

Finally, after one last searing kiss, he pulled away. He had to. If he kept going, he wouldn't be able to hold himself back from crossing a line that he didn't think he could return from. (Wade may be insane, but even he had limits. And fucking the spitting image of the love of your life while they're getting tortured is one of them.)

"That was..."

"Intense?" Logan supplied.

"Yeah. Intense."

Wade sighed and flopped down next to Logan, running a hand over his face. If he focused, he could still taste the faint hint of whiskey. Figures, he thought, I don't know what else Logan would taste like.

"Do you believe me now?" Logan's eyes met his again. They were prodding him to look closer. To see the honesty and vulnerability and affection he felt. For Wade of all people. (If this was how Other-Logan felt, how did his own Logan compare?)

"Would be kinda hard not to," Wade let out a breathy chuckle.

"Thought so," Logan smirked.

"My Logan... he..."

"Probably feels the same. Wait, no. Scratch that. He definitely feels the same."

Wade snorted. "Fitting that I'd only realize it when he's in peril. The character development of an action comic book character can only be spurred by action, huh?"

"The hell are you on about? Comic books?"

"Don't worry about it," Wade dismissed him with a flick of his hand. "Stupid reference. You wouldn't get it. The point is that I believe you. If—when I find my Logan, I'm going to tell him how I feel."

"Gonna man up for once?"

Wade punched his shoulder, holding back a laugh. "Shut up. You don't get to say shit about manning up with half of your personality is just acting like a gigantic kitty cat."

"I do not act like a kitty cat."

"I bet you fucking stare in the mirror each morning and style your ear tufts to try to look like one. You capitalize on it, don't you? 'Oh look, I'm The Wolverine! I run around acting all mainly all while practically wearing cat ears like a middle school girl would to a Halloween Dance—'"

This time it was Logan who punched him. In the gut. Hard. (Ouch.) At least he didn't pull out the claws.

Wade's laughter trailed off, a more serious expression overtaking his face again. Logan noticed the shift in demeanor, judging by how his posture tensed slightly.

"Hey, Logan, you—"

"It's fine."

"But I didn't—"

"I know what you're gonna say, bub. And it's fine. I can deal with my own feelings, despite what you think I'm a bit more mature than a middle school girl running around in cat ears," Logan gave him a half-hearted smirk.

"But you said that you..."

"I did. And I do. But I know that while you may like me, who you really love is him. You're just chasing after the image of him, the closest thing you could get while he was away. The second best option," Logan's smile fell into more of a grimace.

Wade glared at him and then grabbed his face. Logan startled slightly, but met his gaze. "Stop that. You're not just a 'replacement' for my Logan. You're your own person. He's not you, and you're not him. You're right, I do love my Logan, and in some ways, you do remind me of him, but you're not him. I know that and I knew that when I first met you. So stop being self-deprecating and thinking that you aren't good enough just because I have my heart set on someone else."

Logan blinked at him, owlishly, eyes widening slightly. Then they visibly softened. "Christ, Wade. You really are one of a kind. This is gonna be harder than I thought."

"Love triangles are a bitch," Wade supplied. "They're a lazy writing device by authors who have no better plot points than introducing unneeded romantic tension."

"Yeah, well, I have plenty of experience dealing with them. It won't kill me, or I'd have died by Jean and Scott's hands a long time ago."

"Old."

"Shut it."

Wade's eyes lowered slightly. "My Logan... he's gonna be okay, right? I mean, obviously, he's strong as hell—you should know considering he's a version of you—but do you think he's holding on? What if he's scared? Or hurt? Or—"

"He'll be okay." Other-Logan's hand grasped his firmly. "We'll find him for you. I promise."

And just for a moment, Wade shut his eyes and let himself believe it.

---

Logan groaned in exhaustion as his head fell back against the table. He'd been struggling for what felt like hours without any progress. His skin felt tender in a way he'd never experienced before, raw and bloody and torn to the innermost layer.

It was then, just as he'd tired himself out, that the doorknob rattled.

Logan tensed up immediately, eyeing the door warily. His senses felt dulled under whatever type of drugs they had him on, and he was unable to pick up any useful information through his other senses like he normally could.

(It was vaguely unnerving, not being able to smell or hear people from the other room. Even if was overwhelming at times, it was his normal. It was like being able to see colors his whole life, even if sometimes they were blindingly bright, and then having the ability stolen from him. Suddenly becoming colorblind. It felt like a weakness. A disability that he'd never learned to live with.)

A man stepped in. He was a patchwork of human and futuristic robotic parts. He looked vaguely familiar, in a way Logan couldn't quite place.

"Ah, I see you've awakened," the man looked at him coolly. "That's good, it means my dosage was correct. How are you feeling?"

That voice was familiar, too. It sounded almost like—like—

("We can do this the easy way or the hard way.")

Suddenly, everything snapped into place. Like a part of his memory that was temporarily offline finally connected to the Internet. Like a piece of his brain slotted back where it was supposed to be.

"You're the asshole who broke Wade's communicator and kidnapped me," Logan growled accusingly.

That's right. He wasn't in his own world right now. He'd followed Wade here after not hearing from him for nearly a month, only to get separated again by this fucker. He must be in this guy's villainous lair, then.

"So you remember. I take that to mean that you're feeling better," the man said as he smiled at him politely.

His eyes were devoid of any light or real emotion. It sent a shiver up Logan's spine. The asshole probably got off on the power trip of acting all calm and collected while his victims panicked.

"What do you want with Wade? With me?" Logan snapped.

The man hummed to himself, sifting through a selection of tools sitting on a tray beside the table. "With the Deadpool variant? Nothing. With you, on the other hand..." the man trailed off, seemingly searching for something. His eyes lit up in recognition as he grabbed a vial off the table. "Here we go," he murmured under his breath, sounding pleased.

"Now, back to what I was saying." The deceptively pleasant tone had returned. It felt formal. Corporate. "You see, an interesting phenomenon happened not too long ago. One I think you'd happen to know quite a bit about."

"Stop stalling."

"Now, now. Patience. You see, normally, when timelines begin to unravel, they die out. It isn't a pleasant process. Things begin going wrong: people disappear, things swap places, rules of the world begin bending. It's almost as if the very fabric of the universe itself is collapsing."

"Your point?"

"And yet... that didn't happen to your universe, did it? Or, the Deadpool variant's universe, to be accurate. Oh, no, even after an anchor being in your universe died and it was destabilized intentionally, your universe recovered." The man spun an object that resembled a syringe between his fingers.

The man continued, "Such a curious thing... a universe being able to recover from the brink of collapse. When I heard of it, I thought it was just a fable. A tall tale. And yet, when I looked into it, can you imagine my surprise when I found out it was true? That it was possible to replace an anchor being?"

For some reason, those words stuck out to Logan. Something big was going on. Something very decidedly not good.

"It's a revolutionary idea. One that had never even been attempted before. ...But here you are. Physical proof that an anchor being can be replaced. The only successful anchor being transplanted between universes throughout all of history."

"What does that have to do with you kidnapping me?" Logan wished this guy could just get to the fucking point. The worst part of these types of monologues was the anticipation, the not knowing what to do next until he had enough information to try to roughly throw a plan together.

At least Wade was safe, if this guy wasn't lying. It made Logan feel slightly better to know that they didn't want anything from him. (Directly, at least. Logan knew that Wade would get involved in this one way or another, whether this villain thought he was relevant to his plan or not.)

"You see," the man stopped twirling the syringe. It rested between his index finger and thumb. "My universe isn't doing too well. Our anchor being died a few centuries ago, and the effects are beginning to catch up to us."

Logan's breath hitched.

"I think you'd be interested to know that our old anchor being was a Wolverine. Just like you," the man smiled tightly at him. "Everyone was lost on what to do until I had a brilliant idea. We can just... replicate Deadpool's little experiment. Using the one and only person who's proven himself capable of molding to be an anchor being for another universe."

His blood ran cold. This was significantly worse than he'd thought. This monologue insinuated that he not only had the capability of dimensional travel, but also the advantages of technology from several hundred years in the future.

"So we lured you here. Stirred up just enough trouble for the TVA to take notice and send out their favorite little mercenaries," the man spoke flippantly. Arrogantly. "Unfortunately, you didn't show up at first. What a pity. We could've met sooner. Luckily, I figured that you'd pull up to the party if your little partner got stuck."

"I refuse."

"What?"

"I refuse," Logan repeated. "I don't care what you say. I'm not going to go to your world and act as an anchor being there."

(Logan wouldn't. No matter what. Not after he'd finally found a home worth fighting for. One that could very well become unstable and collapse without him there to protect it.)

"You seem to misunderstand," the man spoke conversationally, "I wasn't asking you."

"And you seem to misunderstand," Logan snarked back. "I wasn't asking either."

The asshole merely chuckled. "You say that, and yet you'll change your mind."

"How? Are you gonna beat me up? You think I haven't seen my way around the torture block before?" Logan mocked.

"No, no. I have something better than torture." The man's smile turned razor-sharp, contorting his face in a way that would've been comical if it wasn't so horrific. "Do you remember how... disoriented you were when you woke up? How it took a second to regain your memory?"

Now that he mentioned it, that was odd. Logan figured he'd sustained some type of concussion because his healing factor wasn't working properly or that it was a side effect of whatever anesthetic he'd been on.

"You see, in the future, abilities are much more advanced. And so are the tools you can create with them."

"...And?"

"And one of those handy tools allows me the privilege of altering your memories. Permanently."

What the fuck.

"What you saw before was just a glimpse of its abilities. I can erase memories, yes, but I can also rebuild them. I won't have to force you to come with me to my world, I'll make it so that you'll come willingly."

"You insane piece of shit," Logan muttered.

"I think I'm quite psychologically sound, actually. If I forced you to come with me, you'd never stop trying to escape. I've seen the wills of Wolverines from other universes, and it's not to be trifled with. Additionally, your friends and the TVA would never stop looking for you."

"Damn right, I'll never stop trying to escape."

"—But, if I can make you come willingly, then that fixes all of the issues. Not only would your emotional ability to forge the bond as an anchor being be heightened, but you'd cease your escape attempts. You'd be able to convince the TVA that you want this, that you choose to stay willingly. And, well, you know consent laws."

"Pretty sure brainwashing isn't protected by consent laws, bub," Logan retorted.

The man kept talking, "The TVA has a lot on their plate. If I managed to make it impossible to undo, they'd let it go. That version of you would be long gone, anyway. Nothing left to save. They'd let me have the scraps so that they can keep their little documentation of you going."

Logan wanted to argue, but that did sound like something the TVA would do. They might be allies right now, but at its core, the TVA was a capitalistic, ruthless organization hellbent on efficiency and stability of all timelines. They'd cut their losses where they had to.

"Now," the man seemed to be content now that he'd finished his monologue, "let's get started, shall we?" The man walked closer to him, holding that same damn syringe he'd been fiddling with before.

Logan fought the urge to thrash again, his muscles coiled tightly as he instinctively plastered himself as far back against the table as he could. As if that would help.

He began putting on gloves, "I do have to come clean before we start. I know I implied I wouldn't torture you, but that was a bit of a lie. Do forgive me. While the formula I have is effective, we're running a bit short on time. And the results can be sped up when accompanied by some... psychological reprogramming.

That didn't sound good.

"Nothing too bad. I suppose you'll live up to your name as an animal, though, considering we'll have to train you like one. To not disobey orders. Or ever think of leaving," the man fastened a mask to his face. At least followed medical hygiene regulations.

"And you know how animals are," the man walked over to him, preparing an area on his arm by wiping it with alcohol first. Logan tried to thrash, but he merely tutted and pushed him down with his inhuman strength.

"They learn best through pain."

The ice-cold liquid flooded Logan's veins. It felt like he was freezing and on fire simultaneously. It caused him to let out an aborted yell before his throat closed up as his vision went black.

As black spots invaded his vision, he just barely made out the silhouette of the man as he retrieved a sharp, metal object.

And then he was gone.

[fatedroses]

More than just the Demon.

[erinwantstowrite]

personally i think the trope of "said something i wasn't supposed to while high on pain meds at the hospital" only works if it's smth actually incomprehensible. down with this trope. that and the whole "speaking out loud but the narrator doesn't know they are" trope. you should legally have to tag that i think. i know this usually happens for characters that would never admit something otherwise but actually there are a billion reasons someone would admit something they wouldn't otherwise. for example: someone else has a bomb-

[leashybebes]

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

tommy must live in a perpetual state of confusion over buck

do you think the longer buck allies the more tommy realises that "oh, he really is like this but he's definitely some flavor of queer"? because i see tommy maybe gently testing buck's jealousy to see what it'll take to make him break

oooookay once again this is not a snippet (sorryyyyy) but is more me attempting to understand wtf is going on in tommy's head throughout all this that he keeps "sure, okay"-ing himself into ridiculous situations with buck, so apologies for just unloading the contents of my brain on you

there are a few things i've been chewing on in terms of figuring out how tommy reacts to the buck of it all, which i hope will make it make sense that i actually don't think tommy pushing or testing for jealousy is on the cards in this fic (although i do love the idea!)

so first of all, this is a younger tommy than we've seen interact with buck in canon (of course), so whatever happened to make him Like That in the breakup hasn't happened yet (and won't, because i am a slut for a HEA). he's newly out and in my experience, a lot of newly out people, particularly people who are a bit older have something of a second adolescence. so yeah while this means he's incredibly horny (horny enough to let a self-proclaimed straight guy give him the absolute best sex of his life) it also means he just wants to have fun!! and buck is SO. MUCH. FUN. he's spent so long so tightly controlled that he's trying really hard to just go with the flow.

second, when i say newly out tommy, i mean newly out. like, it's one thing to "stop lying about who i am" - to me, there's a non-zero chance that just means "stop making up girlfriends" rather than "actually grapple with the life-long process of coming out (again and again and again)". so in my head (and it might come up in the fic, idk yet) the scene early on where he tells buck he doesn't want the cute girl's number because he's gay is probably one of the first times he actually said the words out loud. which ties into...

third, we know tommy was work friends with sal (at least and again, don't know that it'll come up in the fic but for the record, he 100% had a monstrous crush on him, like it made him ILL how much he wanted sal, i will hear no arguments), and that he developed good - again, work-based - friendships with hen and chim, but i feel like for a deeply closeted guy under dadt with a shitty childhood buck might be his first actual friend who knows all of him and likes him. spends time with him. doesn't care that he's gay. actively supports his gayness. doesn't recoil and in fact actively encourages tommy to talk about it. so i think tommy is just...deeply, deeply grateful for this confusing train wreck of a man

fourth, while i think there are definitely times that tommy thinks "he...he's flirting with me, right? is something gonna happen here?" this is a guy who has spent his entire adult life not looking at that kinda thing. not letting himself wonder if a guy (particularly a friend) is into him. or really, even if he's into them. he's really, really good at compartmentalising, and buck's pretty insistent that he's straight, so tommy's taking that at face value. hey, buck makes compelling arguments ("tommy, straight men have prostates too!")

aaaaand there we have the contents of my brain as it relates to one tommy kinard. even in my own incredibly stupid AUs, i am frankly obsessed. i want to gnaw on him. i'll settle for having buck do it instead.

[tackykachowch]

By the way, did we ever talk about how stupid it is that they made Silco the reason Felicia died? I don't mean that he killed her personally, but that he jumpstarted violence on a peaceful protest. Because that's sooo who Silco is, right? A character who makes impulsive and poorly thought out decisions, right? A character who goes into a fight headstrong without carefully planning his moves and strategy and just YOLO-ing it, right? Right?? ......sigh

And don't even THINK about giving me the whole "wElL hE cHaNgEd SiNcE tHeN dUh" crap. Even s2 is smart enough to show us him writing something in a notebook in a flashback, which implies that he was the brains behind the Lanes' creation/revolution as a whole. And if he was he would never sabotage his own plans with something so stupid as throwing a single molotov at enforcers. Literally who does that???? Silco we know would probably organize an attack under the guise of a peaceful protest, but not just. Straight-up ruining just a regular peaceful protest. That's stupid. And Silco is the last character in arcane that would do something stupid. Literally the whole plot of season 1 relies on him being intelligent and sneaky with his plans are you kidding me.

[omegalomania]

we do not know and might not ever know the full story behind mania and the circumstances under which it was produced but we know enough by now to understand that there was a lot of strife and frustration involved in the way it came about. the band has been clear on this much. the divisive reception upon release didn't help any. and we know the last time that happened with folie, it led to that record essentially being forgotten and aggressively sidelined for years afterward. the roughness of its reception was explicitly one of the things that patrick especially cited as difficult for him to look back on, and one of the reasons it took so long for him to embrace those songs again.

it took mania five years what took folie a full hiatus and double that time.

this too is healing.

[sigsfigs]

jane of all trades

@professorfcknmoriarty

[nightviator]

OK so hear me out. I'm going to tell you how I think they could make the subway scenes without making lila and Five a thing, and also having a really good character arc and making them show trauma signs. It's a bit long.

Like five would be as traumatised as he deserved to be from last apocalypse, having flashbacks and etc. Lila would see what he experienced to end up as the assassin he was and would think about her parents and the way she wanted to kill him because of her family but ended up being ungrateful for having one. And they could have great character arcs.

Lila and Five go to that subway. Five sees that thay lost the way to go back home and is really frustrated. Actually he is using that anger to hide the fact that he is scared. Traumatised. Because he has seen it all before.

He was there before. Lost, without power to help his family. He is scared. That time he had handler and there is now no thing such that. What if he has to wait another 45 years to go back to his family? Does he even has that mental capability? What if he dies before getting the chance?

He really is scared. Scared because all of the thoughts he had in that past apocalypse are coming back to him. But this time it really was his fault. He can't tell that he is a kid just saying no to his father (not that he could use it to convince himself before, the guilt was too much). He can't say he had no idea of what time travel can make. He had promised himself to never do such a stupid thing ever again and he did it. This time he abandoned his family when he knew they were in a bad state.

So he is scared and angry at himself and at lila and everything and ptsd and stuff and stuff and. Lila sees it. Lila can see what made the murder of her parents, the murder of her parents. She can see how traumatised he really was. And she wants to help. She was responsible in this because she wanted to be more than just a wife and mom and she kinda made him to come here.

But as the time passes five is in a way worse situation. He is loosing it. Also the one who wants to help him is the daughter of handler. Five is so paranoid. What if it was all a plan? What if he never really ran away from the first apocalypse and is still working for commission? What if this is mind games of handler? And if not, what says that Lila can't be another handler? The ones that find you when you're at your worst and try to act like they want to help.

So here we have paranoid Five and Lila who wants to help and understands how truly traumatised he is. She is also scared that Five may run away when she is sleep because he can't trust her now,and because of that she has to always keep an eye on him.

This makes him even more sure that something is up with Lila. And when they go to that very first apocalypse, he goes to his young self without paying attention to gun to make sure that its not all just memories made by handler and he is truly seeing this and the things he experienced after season 1 were real. He is gets shot and lila is the one who saves him.

She is like:"you fucking idiot!!! What are you doing?! You literally were the murder of my parents and now you're acting all crazy and are about to get both of us killed?!"

And he looks at her, yelling that he NEVER wanted those to happen, and just for the first time cries because he thinks all of the things he has done was because of handler but also thinks he is making those up to feel less guilty of being a murder for such a long time and also coming to this subway but at the same time he is paranoid and etc etc.

Lila sees how much guilt he had and also feels bad because does she really miss her family? If yes, why wasn't she more grateful this time? Why did she ran away from them then?

And she sighs, tries to stop nagging at such a situation and adds a mental note to make him go to therapy once they are out. If they are out. So he is all tired, and she goes to help him with that wound, and he just stares at her, disgusted and shocked and saying that don't you DARE to touch me.

Lila is so confused buy apparently this made Five really believe that Lila is just like handler and is trying to use him and make him feel like he needs her just to get closer to him. Is he going to let someone else touch him? Even go near him? Absolutely not. No. No way.

So he runs away, and she barely makes it to not miss the subway by using his powers. Five is there, bleeding but still refusing help. He is about to die, and then she won't be able to copy anything and will probably stuck here forever, and she is the one who made this happen. Such a selfish person she is, thinking about herself in this moment when five is DYING, she thinks.

And when they are both at the last level of disappointment, the subway finally stops in were they wanted. Home. Their home.

It's been such a long time, 7 years.

Lila jist picks Five, running out. Five survives and Lila has a emotional hug with Diego (who wanted to fix everything) and her children and they sob and they talk and they really fix problems.

And then one of the siblings makes a comment on Five, saying how stupidly he trapped himself in a thing related to time again as if he is addicted.

Lila is about to just rush and kill that person. She yells that none of them never really cared about how traumatised he was and she realises she was like that too.

Anyways, Five wakes up and siblings are ready for emotional support and things go back to normal or at least a bit good. And him and lila have such a iconic friendship.

Also Diego tries to be the good brother that he told that Five was. Because Five deserves good brother too.

Also, you want romance? Throw a scene when he finds Delores or human Delores there and wants her so badly but Lila has to stop him because they should go and Five just hates this because he thinks she is just using his love for his wife like handler. (Got the human Delores idea from another tumblr post that I can't find now.)

TADA!!!

BETTER PLOT!!!

....damn I wrote a LOT. I may make it a fanfic-

So... yeah. Love to know your thoughts too, because we are all so angry.

[robiinurheart33]

Part 2

This time, it happens in Alaska. (TW for depictions of gore!!)

They’re hurt and injured, escaped just by the skin of their teeth. They’ve been hastily given the coordinates by Laswell, and barged into the quiet atmosphere of the bunker. The air tasted stale and unmoving; every surface covered with a thick sheet of dust. Soap could see the particles in the air, sunset shining through the windows, creating a strangely nostalgic picture that tickled the base of his skull.

Soap looks back at Ghost, who’s in the process of slamming all the locks on the door. He then looks back down at the wound spilling over the cracks of his fingers tightly pressed against his side, and watches as he takes a deep breath and more blood starts to spill over in morbid curiosity. He hears the blood dripping rhythmically on the wooden floor. Soap isn’t quite sure if it’s due to the stim sticking out of his thigh, but he can’t feel anything at the moment, which probably isn’t good.

I’m disturbing the peace. He thinks deliriously.

“—Soap!”

“Mmh?”

His eyes meet auburn ones, wide and full of barely concealed panic. Oh, there it is. He suddenly feels incredibly dizzy, world splitting into two pieces.

“I’m-” Soap gagged, crumbling to his knees. He’s glad there isn’t anything in his stomach right now, because it would’ve been really embarrassing to throw up in front of his supervisor. He feels hands all over his body, tac vest dropping heavily to the ground. Soap hears a loud thump onto the floor, a hand pulling his shirt up. Sorry for disturbing your peace. He apologises to the house, eyes rolling up as he hears one last shout of his name.

Soap wakes up to the sound of screaming. Which he realises with oncoming horror that it’s coming from him. Blinding hot pain sinks its claws into its sides, soap letting out a strangled gasp. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.

“Hh- nggh-” Soap tries to shape the words in his mouth, but all his brain can focus on is the blazing pain at his side. He gives up, wheezing as he looks down to see Ghost pouring antiseptic across his wound. Ah. That’ll do it then. He tries to keep his mouth shut for ego purposes, somehow finding the time to try not to burden Ghost as much as he knows he is. He fails, obviously, grinding his teeth together as groans rip their way through his throat. Panic seizes up his hands, his eyes blown open as he feels wetness drip, drip, drip.

Ghost moves with ever loving speed, holding Soap down as he steadies a hand with a needle and thread. He can’t help but thrash his body away from Ghost, chest heaving. He’s saying something but Soap can’t hear anything else at the moment through the ringing in his ears. The white light burns through his retinas, forcing him to close his eyes. Hurts, hurts, hurts. It hurts. He lets out another strangled gasp, needing to consistently get oxygen in his system or he would pass out again from the pain. Soap throws his forearm into his mouth, biting down on it while his other hand claws on the floor beneath him, stilling his body for Ghost to patch him up.

Soap kept almost slipping under, Ghost tapping his face a couple times to keep him conscious as he feels the needle pierce the skin of his abdomen over and over again. As a kid, whenever Johnny’s skin got cut on his finger, he used to flex it to watch the cut open and close, feeling the strange sensation of nerves doing their job. Now, the sensation increased tenfold as Ghost pulled on the string, closing him back up again. He could feel the lines of sweat travelling down his neck, tracing the length of his spine. His hands slipped as he rubbed them over his face, labouring wheezes slowing down as Ghost placed the gauze and wrap around him.

When Ghost pulled his hands away however, Johnny’s hand shot out and grabbed his in a clammy hold.

“Stay.” He whispers, voice cracking.

Ghost looked at him for a moment, sunken eyes meeting pained ones.

“… You got it, Johnny.”

He sighs in relief, hand slipping from his wrist. He allowed himself to fully relax, as if the throbbing in his head and the wet feel of his wound went away. He could rest. He can rest. Please, can he rest?

“Rest, Johnny.” He slips under.

6

[rainbowbeanstyles]

Do you have any good ABO fics to recommend? A part of me wants to try reading it, because sometimes I read a description and it sounds really good. But then they mention ABO or I read the tags and I'm like, no, absolutely not. Or I find a author that I like, but the rest of their fics are ABO and I really feel like I'm missing out on good fanfic sometimes. But I just can't get myself to read it. I tried once and I tell you I backed out of that fic so fast, it was just so weird and I was so confused.

No pressure of course, just if you want to. Hope you have a good day/night❤

anon. when i read this i cracked my fingers, rubbed my hands, put on my glasses and opened ao3 so fast!

first of all. i usually read omega harry & alpha louis, and i'm also a sucker for non traditional a/b/o dynamics, i think you might find those interesting? they're some of my favs i eat them all up

second. i really like hurt/comfort so i think most if not all are like that oops. listen. a/b/o is FULL of emotions, like i said on my tag i think that's why i like them so much, they feel sooooo much and the scent thing is very cool to me. NESTING is also a fav so it's gonna be included here

third. at the end of the day, if you really don't end up liking it, it is what it is you know, it's very cool that you're willing to read some and give it another try! i hope you get to find something that might make you feel more comfy to read, but it is completely understandable if it's not your cup of tea haha personally it did take me a while to get into to it after my first try (do share with me your experience if you try reading some! good and bad it's all good)

OKAAAAYY i'm talking too much, time for some fav a/b/o fics, different lengths and different worlds, all great:D

🤍 hanging around by homosociallyyours (1k - non-traditional dynamics, nesting, domestic)

🤍 perfect, for now by parmahamlarrie (4k - neighbors, touch starvation, nesting)

🤍 her by jaerie (7k - quarantine, office work, transitioning)

🤍 safe place to hide away by lunarheslwt (12k - established relationship, nesting, hurt/comfort)

🤍 anything that feels good by bluegreenish (13k, established relationship, nesting, non-traditional dynamics)

🤍 keep me closer by zanni_scaramouche (18k - college, touch starvation)

🤍 there's no pleasure in this resisting by etherealbliss (26k - neighbors, intersex omegas, that tag might be a whole other thing for you but the story is so fun i promise)

🤍 wither & bloom by the_dixie_pixie (65k - touring shenanigans! singer h, vocal coach louis, closeted character)

i feel like these can be good introductions, if anybody else sees this and wants to rec more to this anon, feel free to do so!

[astracora]

A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 8

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Sylus myth mentioned, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1424

Written: 22nd December 2024

Notes: Post-relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

Masterlist AO3

Sylus enjoys a karaoke bar, especially if he's got access to you for a duet. You tease him but you'll always join him, hanging onto his arm and letting loose, and he sometimes falters over the words because he's too busy watching your face.

Still, this is good too. You've set up the game system that the doctor bought for his base, presenting it with a sigh. 'You won't know the right one.'

He'd been a little insulted, but he'd acquiesced, in the end the doctor knows gaming better than he does. It's never appealed to him, and he's never had real time to try. A sing-a-long game is loading up, yelling out 'let's sing' loudly from the speaker system.

You'd presented it to him with the doctor, beaming, "You'll like this one, I promise!"

The fish had groaned from the sofa, "Why do we all have to suffer the crow's crooning?"

As much as you've teased him for being out of tune, you've always encouraged him. He can't count how many times you've asked him to hum for you. Lay against his chest, and unable to sleep for nightmares.

The reason for the at-home karaoke session, are the cocktails that Luke has decided he wants to try making. Kieran is his primary test dummy, and if anything doesn't make him spit it straight back out. You're trying them.

It's ill advised… Sylus knows you're not a light weight, but he does know you and the twins can get competitive. It feels like it's only moments before you start doing shots together, and if that happens he's bound to get dragged in, and as quick healing as he is, he doesn't fancy driving anyone anywhere. Nor does he want to get into a taxi with someone he doesn't trust. Not with you and the twins.

He needs you safe.

He also blames you for Luke’s new hobby, you’d showed them some movies, made comments about how stylish a good bartender is, (He hadn’t filed that information away, to practice. At all.), and Luke had taken that as a challenge.

“It can’t be that hard.”

“Yeah! You can do it bro!”

You’d laughed and not thought anything of it. They’d gone out, and returned with… boxes.

Then raided his alcohol supply.

He’d dragged them both back by the scruff of the neck when they went for the very expensive top shelf. In no world were they mixing that with… was that moonshine? Where did they even get moonshine from?

He doesn’t see you drunk often, there are times you’re out in busy places because you feel you have to attend, and he’s seen you drink then to soften the anxiety and stress. You always call someone to be there then, drunk you is far more willing to rely on others. He also has seen you drink when you feel safe, has carried you on his arm more than once in those situations.

You apologise but there’s no need, especially when he gets to see the embarrassed but enamoured look on your face as he holds you in one arm. Your fingers drifting over the veins in his bicep, with a look he can only describe as hungry. He flexes a little more than he needs to on those occasions.

(There was one time you’d made a comment about beef clod, and he had truly not known how to respond.)

He can see you getting to that point now, you’re trying something green that you and Kieran are sipping from the same glass with separate straws. Luke is taking his turn at the microphone, singing something about what he wants for Christmas. Sylus is unsure if the radioactive green drink is good for either of you, but you don’t look sick, still. He’s wary, and flicks your forehead. As you put a hand to the targeted area, pulling away with an offended ‘Oi’, he grabs the glass and sips from your straw.

“Aww, Boss come on.”

It’s… not as bad as he expected, but he can’t imagine drinking it for fun.

Whether his taste buds are ‘broken’ like you’ve claimed before, and its somehow worse than he tastes, he still doesn’t feel good about putting it back in either your’s or Kieran’s hands. So he downs it.

Wrinkling his nose and pushing the glass away.

Before you can grab another concoction, now that Luke is back and shoving something else onto his brother, (He’s going to have to hide the key to the liquor cabinet he thinks, if this becomes a long standing hobby for them.), he pulls you over to the karaoke machine. “It’s our turn kitten, I’m owed a song for saving you from a terrible fate.”

Your tongue is out at him, but you stumble over grabbing his arm to steady yourself, and pick up the controller to find something you both know well enough to get through it with little effort.

His song repertoire has grown substantially since you’ve reentered his life, he feels confident that anything you sing to often he has memorised. Catalogued away to think about on nights you’re not here to sing for him.

When you’re satisfied, lining up a particular choice, you thrust the microphone into his hand, that’s not currently steadying you at the waist.

You look right at him when the song starts, familiar with some things enough to sing them blindfolded, and as tipsy as you are, with your voice wavering a little, he’s as starstruck as he always is.

“And I’d give up forever to touch you, ‘Cause I know that you feel me somehow, You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be, And I don’t want to go home right now.”

There’s moments in his life, where Sylus wonders if he blinks, will you disappear? A fragile illusion on a wishful soul. That someone, somewhere has truly seen into him and seen something worth adoring and loving. He thinks you are easy to love, there can be no doubt that you are worthy without the need to earn it.

“And all I can taste is this moment, And all I can breathe is your life.”

You have reminded him, again and again that you love him, that he does not need to pay for it, or gift for it. That everything that is offered is freely given, and wholehearted. That there is nothing to earn. It is not a transaction, no relationship should be. You do not keep score, and you would rather he did not either.

“And sooner or later it’s over, I just don’t want to miss you tonight.”

It still leaves him with the feeling that in seconds he could wake up, in a cold cave, surrounded by gems he no longer sees beauty in, in a world where he is nothing but broken horns and lost family.

“And I don’t want the world to see me, ‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand, When everything’s meant to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.”

He loves you, he loves his life with you, and he is so scared-

Your hands move to his cheeks, his voice halts, wavering and pausing. Blinking at you. The microphone is out of your hands and you stretch up as tall as you can pressing a kiss to his eyelids. He almost drops his own, hand tightening on your waist. You sing just for him, lips at his cheek now, and his breath escapes in a long exhale, shaking.

You are his, you are his, you are his.

When his heart wavers, yours is there, keeping it beating, in time to a song only you can hear.

He is yours, he is yours, he is yours.

“I just want you to know who I am.”

He lifts you into his arms, and he sings with you, game forgotten because it doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters. If you are happy, he is happy, and he is so very happy with you in his arms.

If he wakes up tomorrow and you are not here, he will find you anywhere. He has done it before, and he will do it for the rest of time, because you are the one who sees him.

And later, when you are laughing and stumbling through his bedroom door, trying to pull away from the uncontrolled kisses he plants on your skin, tickling you and nipping, he will swear into your skin that he will always see you too.

Whoever you choose to be.