#don't know why i just think like. they'd be chill.

[i3utterflyeffect]

a summary of purple's experience in the latter half of King Merc AU

(reblogs > likes)

[silusvesuius]

testing out drawing maormer 🪸🐚🪸 and a nelvas 🧣📜🩷 i'll ramble about maormer a bit in the tags

[puppy-the-mask]

Some Lmk Cas and Connie things;

-In the initial storyline Cas is from a border town close to demon territory, as close as human civilization dares to live. The town has lots of guards because of this. She learns swordsmanship through her brothers, who her father teaches so they may follow in his footsteps. She acts as a sparring partner enough times to get some harmless practice in and would later develop her skills in private.

-Cas' real passion is music, becoming a performer and traveling to a bigger town for work. It's the road between these towns that she utilizes her sword skills with any bandits she encounters

-Any timelines where they meet in the modern day have Cas as a normal person who plays with local bands for extra cash and would now have to learn self defense to keep up with all the weird demonic stuff going on in their life

-After fusing with the consumption Cas suffers from frequent nightmares, which spread the consumption subconsciously as a way to protect herself from the 'danger' in her dreams. Only people that she no longer sees as a threat/trusts with her life are immune to the goop and able to safely touch it. This is rare as he must instinctively trust them/ want to protect them enough that even panicked and asleep the ooze doesn't touch them or consider them a threat

-Until they come to terms with their situation and new companion Cas is highly unstable, the slightest anger or panic causes the consumption to manifest. It isn't until they finally talk with Connie that she starts learning how to control it

-While sealed away Cas covered the cave walls in songs they wrote while they were trapped as a way to pass the time

-Connie is AroAce, quite literally only interested in food. They've never had a friend before but if someone managed to become close with them they wouldn't believe they were really cared about or that the person truly understands What they are.

-If they Do then Connie will not really know what to do about it, they're caught off guard and don't like it. Hold their hand and walk them through relationships, they don't understand. But they're quietly harassing Cas into teaching them about friendship and how to care about people.

-Connie's love language is Gifts(Aka Free Food), Words of Affirmation, and Quality Time. They love receiving food and actually going out of your way to spend time with them (despite having to stick close to Cas) makes them feel appreciated. It's not often people hang around for Them rather than Cas since they don't come out much. They also never realized how nice it feels to be complimented and told they're loved.

-Connie is really protective of their friends, they don't have many so they Really don't wanna lose them.

-A relationship with them starts out with them more confused and incredulous than anything- 'Wait you're wanting to talk to me? Why??? uhm Okay?????? whatever dude go ahead I guess' But they'd catch an interest and start growing fond of the person over time

-Cas and Connie have made a name for themselves as online food critics, leaving really comprehensive reviews on all the places they've eaten at together. They also really love going to places that have those massive food challenges, they have yet to lose a single one

-Connie has a shrine in their room of all the knickknacks, pictures, and shirts they've won from every challenge. They also have before and after pictures of each meal.

-They have been kicked out of multiple establishments for eating too much, every all-you-can-eat buffet in their area has their picture up on the wall with 'BANNED' over them like a food service wanted poster

-Cas' Gems are some of the most sensitive parts of their body. The biggest gems being the most sensitive, only to touch though. She can't feel temperature through them but touch is amplified because they connect directly to his nervous system

-He doesn't wear scratchy or hard fabrics because of this, only soft or flowy fabrics over his arms or anywhere the gems would touch

-They don't let anyone touch the gems unless they trust them with their life since their life would literally be in the person's hands- the shards being a secondary life source to them

-They don't let people grab their arms when they don't have long sleeves on and don't even let anyone know about their biggest shards out of paranoia that anyone could betray them and use the knowledge of their weakest points against them. Those being the back of their neck (even small fractures cause paralysis due to location) and their Tongue (biggest shard- essentially their insta-kill button)

-The general pain scale goes as follows;

Touching- just a weird sensation, can overstimulate them if there's too much going on around beside the touching. Mainly paranoia that makes it unpleasant

Tapping- light pinch/the kind of sensation that makes you want to grit your teeth but isn't exactly Painful

Tapping with Nails/Claws/something hard- Harder pinch, instantly gritting teeth, is actually a bit painful and causes a slight ringing sensation. More pressure = more pain, could be ranked above Scratching if the person does it too hard or holds their nail down/prolongs it

Flicking- like when you pinch your hand in a door or something closes on you, a sharp pain that kind of leaves a ringing sensation pulsing through their body

Scratching- Sharp pain, feels the same as normal scratches just much worse

Blunt force- Painful, could crack the gem (even more painful) which would cause everything below it to go numb/limp

Pulling- Excruciating, Trying to pull the gem out would literally be them trying to pull out a part of their body. Like trying to pull teeth or nails- there are nerves attached that would be yanked with them.

-While they've definitely had partners over the years they've all been doomed from the start because Cas can't commit to mortals that'll die or leave her. But they leave because he doesn't commit to trusting them enough to let them touch the gems... Homie can't even make out with their S/Os without freaking out and backing down at the last minute. Or they leave because of the whole 'Sharing a body with a Demon' thing. It's a vicious cycle, a self fulfilling prophecy.

-On the last point I had a scenario/story/fake episode idea where Cas breaks up with their girlfriend -who she had been having boundary issues with- but had really wanted things to work out and tried making herself trust her. But then she pressed the tongue gem with her nail despite knowing that's the Worst One and It Hurt. So after pushing her off Cas breaks things off with her and kicks her out of her apartment. But the ex was toxic and started showing up to all their usual hangout spots and even their workplace all to make them out to be the bad guy. The plot of the episode is basically the gang get to know the ex- not knowing about the breakup or her connection to Cas- and it drives Cas to isolate from the mk crew. This leads to her spending time with the one person the ex literally Physically can not reach- Monkey King. So the two end up hunkering down in his shame temple and watching crap tv with a bunch of ben n jerry's and talking about all their shitty past relationships. Alcohol is Of Course involved on Cas’ end and they make horrible unholy ice cream booze creations- such as an alcoholic coke/rootbeer float for themself. Wukong hoards the ice cream after that lest they commit more food crimes with it. I just think it'd be funny to have them gossiping and lounging around the shame temple eating a shit ton of junk that shouldn't be humanly possible. The start of a beautiful friendship, finally an immortal that doesn't have beef with him! XD Of course at the end of the episode she'd learn she can trust her friends and talk to them about her problems instead of keeping them to herself and the toxic ex would probably end up with a restraining order or have crossed a line that causes Cas to reveal the whole Demon thing and scare her off. idk the important part was the booze and gossip with wukong- that was the entire reason i mentioned this

[strwberri-milk]

Hi, good morning/ afternoon/ evening. I've probably read all of your work on LnD, and I love them all. If it's not too much, can I request like the boys getting a call/update from MC after a disastrous wanderer attack on the city after not being able to contact them?? If possible, established relationship😅 ... thank you for your time!

im glad you like all my writing for them!! im so aefjaweofaw please give me the next main story update - also theres lots of references/imagery of death so if youre not chill w that i will see you tomorrow [salute] - theres also some very very slight references to their myths!! it feels a little ooc to me but thats bc. i think theyd be a little ooc when faced w a tragedy like this!! i hope you like it anyway <3

Zayne holds his breath every time a new patient is admitted. The hospital is busy with all of the patients that are coming in with the disaster, a mixture of those hanging on and people running up to him because he's the closest doctor in the vicinity to confirm death.

He volunteered himself to do triage because he was convinced that he'd be able to stop you from dying, that if you came in through those doors he'd be able to separate his love for you from the mind that studied all those nights but that's impossible - he only got here because of you.

His mind runs circles around himself, almost separated from his body as he tries to figure out why you weren't there. Hopefully it's because you're fine - you don't need medical attention or the medics on site were enough for you. However, he knows there's an equal chance that it's just because a doctor onsite was able to confirm your death and now you were in some bag, stored away with the others waiting for him to come identify you.

When he finally gets a moment to himself he obsessively checks his phone, praying to something that might take enough pity on him to listen at the very least that you'll call him. Minutes turn to hours as he's called back to work. Silence is a commodity now as he's stuck in the theatre, only able to go home after he's exceeded the legal amount of hours he's allowed to work in one night.

The long turned cold water hits his muscles as his mind wanders in the quiet of his home. You still haven't called - nobody's called. He understands that surely, all of you are busy but he's been there when the calls have had to be made. To hear the sobs on the other side of the phone as a squad captain confirms the death of another hunter as they softly ask if they'd like to see the body. He's also seen the calls when the bodies are far too mangled, a sight that no loved one should have to bear. He's waiting for it, almost falling in his haste to grab his phone once it finally rings.

Your number pops up, the letters of your name taunting him as he tries to answer it. He's about ready to throw his phone on the ground from the water on his hand refusing to make picking up the call an easy feat.

"Hello?" Zayne asks, an uncharacteristic shake in his voice.

"Zayne! I'm okay!" you say, voice sounding a little weak but definitely better than he could have ever anticipated.

"Zayne? Honey? Hello?" you ask when you're met with only silence, now beginning to grow anxious yourself. You knew he must have been busy - you were too - and you thought he was safe. He should have been, you'd heard no reports of the hospital being attacked.

"You're alive," he chokes out, falling to his knees.

"Of course I am! Things have just been chaotic so I haven't had enough time to call you until now," you explain, continuing to talk to him.

You hear rustling on the other side of the phone, trying to get his attention again before he cuts you off.

"Where are you right now? Home?"

"Oh - yeah I'm on leave now. Most of us who were in active duty are to let his recuperate. How come?"

"I'll be there soon."

He hangs up immediately, leaving you a little stunned. You decide to clean up a little, having nothing else to do really until he comes over. Zayne never acts this impulsively so you assume that the day with no contact really wore on him.

Once he arrives you open the door for him, planning to apologise for the lack of contact when he almost throws himself at you. You hold him back just as tightly, a little shaken yourself as you close the door after him. You realise that for whatever reason he's soaking, unsure if you should confront that but you decide to ignore it.

He leads you right to your couch, too exhausted to even find your bedroom as he buries himself against your chest. It's not the normal way he lays with you - typically he likes to hold you - but you know not to bother him now. You can't deny you were worried about him too, knowing he probably put in a bunch of overtime at the hospital.

He holds onto you tightly, measuring out the beat of your heart. It's the only way he can remind himself that you're still alive, that the two of you have one more day together.

Xavier has never felt like he wanted to die more than in this moment. One minute you were running with him, trying to stop the Wanderer from attacking the group of civilians the next you're totally gone. Logically, he knows you're most likely fighting a Wanderer by yourself and you can handle it but somewhere he's convinced you'll die without him at your side. You've proved yourself more than capable but he worries about you all the time - he knows how to fight these things, he's been fighting them for far longer than you have - and if you died here he'd have no more reason for living.

He practically goes beserk, tearing into each and every creature with the hopes that one of them can take him to you. With each failure he starts to spiral, standing atop a pile of rubble as he watches the recovery teams start to spread into the city. It practically took an entire squadron to force him to go home, promising him that he'd be the firs t to hear once they found you.

You were diligently following Xavier when you noticed another Wanderer going after a child. You knew that he'd panic once he couldn't find you but you couldn't just abandon them. You tried to tell him you'd be splitting off but over all the screams and screeches he couldn't hear you and you couldn't waste any more time trying to get his attention.

You were able to defeat the Wanderer but not before sustaining an injury that made it too difficult for you to continue active duty, taking the child to a safe spot and staying with them until help arrived. You ended up passing out from the pain shortly thereafter, waking up a day later to Tara in your face heaving a sigh of relief as she called for a doctor to come check on you.

Your body was simply fatigued and after an extra day of monitoring and ensuring you were receiving everything you needed to make sure you wouldn't collapse again when you get home. You nod, knowing what procedure is at this point. You reach out for your phone once the doctor leaves, knowing that Xavier must be worried out of his mind.

You're right, of course. He's laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as he waits for someone to call him. He saw the scale of disaster this attack was, knows that everything is absolutely awful and he's not the only one waiting for news but every minute that passes is another minute you could be trapped, praying that he's coming there to save you.

He decides to ignore the strict orders he's gotten, suiting up to go help the recovery efforts. He was going bad staying in bed all day, unable to get a wink of sleep as pictures of your suffering flash across his tortured mind. Working on pulling valuables and any remnants of life is depressing on a good day but right now it's downright torturous. He can't help but think that the next thing he pulls out is going to be your hand, severed far from your body.

When his phone rings everything disappears. He quickly picks up, steeling his expression to avoid making things worse should someone look over at him. He doesn't even notice who called him, just hoping that it was someone with news.

"Oh! You picked up fast. Are you just sitting at home then?" you ask casually, so casually he thinks it's almost cruel. How could you act so nonchalant about the fact that you held his life in your hands, that you are the only thing in this world he can bear to wake up for?

"No, I'm helping the recovery efforts despite orders. I...it was too quiet at home," he offers as an explanation and you hum. He can imagine you nodding, tapping your chin as you think to yourself.

"If you missed me you could have just said so," you tease, hoping that the ease in your voice will make him relax.

"Of course I did. Is that even a question? Are you able to take visitors?' You know what, doesn't matter. I'll just wait there until you are. I'll see you soon love."

He hangs up quickly and you know that he'll appear in the hospital within the next two seconds with that uncanny ability of his. You straighten yourself out a little, knowing that you were injured but not wanting to look like a total mess.

You can hear his footsteps running up to your door, slamming it open as he catches his breath. You've never seen him out of breath before - maybe he's much more tired than you initially thought.

"You made it," you laugh, making a slight sound from the impact of him practically jumping at you, holding you tightly as he buries his face into your neck.

"I was worried about you," he says softly, looking up at you. "I thought you'd been hurt, badly. And I wasn't there to protect you."

You sigh, helping him sit down into the chair at your bedside. You offer him your hand which he holds gratefully, never taking his eyes off of you.

"I know. I'm sorry. But look, I'm okay now, aren't I?"

He ignores the pain in his chest, trying not to imagine how heavy your hand would feel in his if you really had drawn your last breath. That weight is far too familiar to him, haunting his every thought in the hours that passed between then and now.

"You are. And I'm going to make sure you stay that way," he promises.

Rafayel didn't even know there was an attack until far after it. He knew you were working and that sometimes, you'd accidentally go MIA. You'd already texted him before your mission anyway and then he got drawn into another project of his and completely lost track of time. It's not until the next day that he finally sees his phone and the message from Thomas telling him not to come into the city for supplies for a day or so.

He immediately starts looking through articles, scouring pages that are constantly updating the death toll in search of your face. He curses himself for not paying attention earlier - every minute he wasted on some stupid was another minute you could have spent at Death's door, all because he allowed himself to forget that nothing matters if it's not you.

It's obsessive the way he looks through all of them, calling your phone non stop all the while. Every time he gets sent to voicemail he feels his breath get knocked out of his lungs, resorting to blowing up your phone with texts. When it's clear you aren't replying he grabs his keys to drive into Linkon despite Thomas' suggestion, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he heads to the hospital.

Even in all the chaos people can't help but stare a little as Rafayel makes his way to the counter, demanding someone tell him where you were. He's really trying not to be a brat, promising you that he'd be nicer to people but when it's your life on the line everything is up for debate. He goes through any and every possibility, figuring out what he can do to guarantee your survival.

Unfortunately for him, he gets escorted out. Jenna tries to calm him down, telling him that he'd be the first to know if they had any updates on you. Right now everything was just far too messy to know anything about anyone and there was a good chance that you were just being treated at a different hospital than usual due to the high causality count. He doesn't take no for an answer and manages to strong arm the name of the other hospitals you could have been sent to, starting up his car again right as his phone lights up with your name.

"What do you think you're doing not answering your phone?!" he yells, making you flinch.

Rafayel's never been mad at you, certainly not to this extent but you know that it's because he's anxious. He immediately catches himself too and you hear it, catching the sound of his hands against his steering wheel as he takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. Just - where are you?" he asks, sounding so exhausted that you feel like crying.

"I'm okay Rafayel," you say instead, adding the name of your hospital. He's immediately driving over as you talk to him, keeping your voice even.

"I was split up from the group is all, then triaged at a different hospital. I'm fine though - I managed to just sprain my wrist from overexertion so I'll have a sling for a bit-"

"You're staying with me then. I'm not having you stay alone with a broken wrist. Knowing you you'd do something dumb and make it worse," he scoffs, trying his best to drive safely to see you again. You don't bother to correct him, knowing that's the least of your worries.

You fall quiet, not sure how to respond. Rafayel has always been good at masking how he feels, rarely showing you what he's hiding behind his mask. Now he's an open book, making it clear that nothing will be okay until he sees you again.

"Okay," you agree, leaning further back into the pillows of your hospital bed. "They wanted me to be released into the care of someone if I could anyway. That's why I was calling you - that, and trying to return all your missed calls."

"Thank you," he says so quietly you barely hear him over the sound of his car.

"Of course my love," you say just as softly. "I knew you'd worry as soon as you saw the news."

Another moment passes between the two of you. Rafayel thinks his heart fell out of his chest - or it would have if it was still his to hold. Instead, it's beating firmly in your palm, only able to do so under your affections.

"Rafayel, I'm really fine, I promise. I'm just hungry. Let's get something for dinner, yeah?" you offer, hoping to redirect his energy.

"Yeah," he replies, exhaling deeply.

"Anything you want my beloved. Just name it and it's yours."

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

Due to overwhelming popular demand (literally one person), I will now elaborate! The screenshots made this really long, so it's going under the cut.

I know I said 'not all that nice' in the original post, but I think a better word for what I read in Klavier would be that he's 'unfeeling' or 'callous', and I believe that largely comes from my initial impression of him. Many people cite the "This is the first time I've ever felt this way with a man" line as one of his most impactful early scenes, but, honestly, it didn't do much for me. Instead, the first time I properly took notice of Klavier was when he says this in Wocky's trial:

The first time I read that, I went, "Oh. He's demented."

And maybe that's a bit harsh, right? We don't know much about Wocky, but he is part of the mafia and under suspicion of murder here. Maybe Klavier's malicious glee at his soon-to-be untimely demise is warranted or excusable (though I would argue that it still takes a certain kind of cruelty to laugh right in the person's face). But that's the thing. This moment isn't a one-off instance but, rather, indicative of Klavier's oddly flippant attitude regarding death and other people throughout the game.

His rant in Turnabout Serenade about his keys, guitar and the dead body is probably what comes to mind quickest in this regard, but I would argue that Klavier's entire approach to court is a pretty obvious tell on this front. I don't think it's controversial to say that Klavier sees his cases as just another performance — what with the "Let's rock!"s and talk about everyone else "sharing his stage" — but he seems to treat the people involved like they're performers, too. There's a certain callousness that comes with his rockstar gimmick, which extends to his treatment of witnesses and suspects. Wocky is one thing, but Vera?

Like, the girl collapsed in front of you and is now knocking on death's door, Klavier; could you drop the showman-speak for one minute?

Maybe it's because Machi is a child, but I feel like this coldness of his comes across most clearly in Serenade. See, Klavier has a reputation for being the most straightlaced and honourable of the prosecutors, and I agree with that assessment! (I think. I don't remember what Blackquill is like, but for now, I agree.) His willingness to work with the defence is respectable and his dedication to the truth undeniable... but I think that only extends to truths he can see himself.

An interesting thing about Klavier is that he's never really behind Apollo in comprehending the truth of their trials, and he pursues it doggedly whenever he scents it. However, in the time before he realises what's actually unfolded, he pursues the truth he's determined with that same unbending zeal. He needs to understand what's happening — to be in control of the narrative at all times — to function at his usual pace. At the end of Serenade's first day of investigation, Klavier implies that Machi has been arrested because the powers that be required a swift arrest, but by the time the trial starts, he's 100% committed to sending that 14-year-old to the gallows. And he's not above using somewhat underhanded tactics to do it either.

There's a sort of ruthless edge to Klavier's treatment of not just Machi, but almost everyone involved in this case. He insinuates that Apollo might be lying about his witness testimony, knows why Lamiroir "saw nothing" yet chose to keep silent and have her brought out onto the witness stand to discredit her,

implies that Ema is the least useful detective on the force then embarrasses her on the stand by having her take the fall for the misunderstanding over Machi's eyesight,

straight up lies about not speaking Borginian to keep Machi from testifying, although he was translating fluently for Lamiroir just minutes prior

and even has his own updated autopsy report moment:

And are these all technically above board tactics to get to the truth? Sure (unclear about the lying, which he also does in the Misham case). But they're still mean-spirited, and his entire demeanour speaks of him just... not caring whom he hurts in his crusade for the truth. The feelings and reputations he damages on the way don't matter because they don't aid him in his goal. Finding the truth isn't about justice for victims or protecting the people caught in the crossfire to him. He wants the truth because... it's the truth. In that sense, he's a lot like og trilogy Edgeworth.

Something else Serenade makes clear is that this brusqueness towards people isn't exclusive to acquaintances and strangers; Klavier treats his loved ones with equal impassiveness. When Daryan crops up as a suspect proper later in the trial and Klavier is prepared for it, he ploughs forwards with that same unyielding efficiency and careless air. The few times he does lose his composure, it's largely due to the revelation of his own unwitting role in the crime. And when it's at last proven beyond a shadow of doubt that it was Daryan, his friend, his partner, the first detective he ever worked with, who tried to set him alight and killed someone, all Klavier has to say is,

... A cool, clean cut. No unsettled feelings, no messy loose threads. Just the hard truth and the calm acceptance of it.

It's the same with Kristoph later on — honestly, I'd argue it's even colder there. With Daryan, he had time to process the possibility and prepare for it. With Kristoph, it happens abruptly in court, and I'm not even sure that Klavier wholly believed Kristoph's original murder charges. There's a line right when he begins helping Apollo against his brother, where he says, "Honestly, I wanted to believe you", and I think the Shadi Smith charge is what he was referring to then. Even so, he puts it aside (much like Daryan, the few times he loses his composure are when he realises how he's been manipulated) and continues with his usual showy efficiency:

It ends, interestingly, harsher than it did with Daryan:

And there's something impressive about that, isn't there? That ability to come to terms with yourself and deal with your emotions so succinctly and conclusively. But isn't it also vaguely terrifying? It's murder on both counts here, so maybe it's a bit hyperbolic to say this, but it almost comes across like there are no second chances with Klavier. Like he sees other people, like himself, as being "simple", without room for greyness or capacity for meaningful change. People are fundamentally good until they do an inexcusable act, and then they're unforgivable and he's better off without them.

There's the argument to be made that Klavier's actually much more affected by these events than he lets on and this is just him masking his emotions to be professional, and I totally agree that that could be it, but I also don't think it fully is? I don't see Klavier as being one for masks, to be honest. I believe him when he says he tries to live simply — even the above examples I've given of him being unkind aren't parts of him he tries to hide; he's rather open about being apathetic, hence why I wouldn't call him manipulative. Like he says, he prefers to "keep things civil" because it helps him find the truth, and he's not particularly secretive about his friendliness being anything deeper than that. So, rather than him 'masking' his true emotions, I'd say it's more akin to him shoving those complicated feelings into a box, stashing it somewhere deep inside himself and refusing to ever examine it to the point where it doesn't affect his life in any obvious or even conscious way.

The one moment we know Klavier was truly conflicted about in his life (the forged diary page) he dealt with by, essentially, running away from. He left the court behind, threw himself into his band and only returned to it when it was forced into his lap, which relates back to how I think he only purses the truth relentlessly when he can see it clearly. He didn't look deeper into that diary page because it would have affected his simple relationship with Kristoph. We kind of see him do the same thing with the Gavinners, actually. Prior to Serenade, he's extremely proud of his band and brings up their achievements often. But after Daryan's arrest, he disbands the Gavinners and starts saying things like their lyrics comprised "ridiculous flights of fancy". There's a decisive effort to distance himself from that debacle, and I think he treats the people in his life much the same way.

There are also less significant moments that point to him not quite caring about other people's situations and his need for control — like when he glares at Ema for interrupting the Misham trial proceedings, though she did so to help them get to the truth; and when he sends Apollo tickets at 20% off though he's the millionaire rockstar and Apollo's the one living paycheck to paycheck — and one that sticks out is his case with Phoenix.

When Klavier warns him against using the page, and when he mocks him for the fraudulent evidence later, he says Phoenix has "embarrassed" himself. Not that Phoenix has made a decision that will ruin his reputation and leave him potentially without a means to support himself, just that he's "embarrassed himself". And I think that's adds another element to his unsympathetic treatment of people.

Klavier is sometimes just... a rich asshole HAHA I don't think he sees how certain hardships can push people to do awful things or really understands what desperation is like. When he's confronted with the darkness behind his cases and the nuanced circumstances that led to the people involved doing what they did, he treats them as amusing diversions, another element of the greater show that is the trial. And when you see how he reacts to complications in his own life, you kind of see why. He would never be driven to act in such a way because he doesn't allow those events to affect him. Whenever something goes wrong for him — really wrong, not just minor inconveniences he can moan about — he just... cuts the problem out. Keeps things neat and simple and moves forwards to a place where everything is, once again, within his control.

And, you know, maybe I'm just reading too much into moments that aren't meant to be taken particularly seriously — they do all fall under his self-absorbed rockstar gimmick, after all, but I don't know. I look at these moments in relation to one another, and I'm not sure he's as simple as he'd like himself to be.

wait, no. i think my ACTUAL hottest aa take is that i don't think klavier is all that nice

[prettyoatmeal]

i know this is a long shot but HEAR ME OUT!

PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS can you do a TF141 reacting to when their girl asks to peg them. IM BEGGING YOU

TF141 and How They'd React to Reader Asking to Peg Them

A/N: I'm on it, anon. DON'T WORRY

Warnings: SMUT!!! Includes pegging ofc. Written with an AFAB reader with fem genitalia in mind.

NSFW UNDER CUT

Masterlist here!

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

Price would be incredibly hesitant. I don’t think he’d actually agree to it. He’s very traditional. He’s normally the one fucking and believes it should stay that way. Maybe he’s thought about it before, maybe he hasn’t. TLDR, he doesn’t think he would enjoy it.

The furthest you would ever get to it is just fingering him. Of course it would take a bit to lay him back and have his legs spread, but you seemed so happy when he agreed to try something new with him.

Working him up wasn’t too hard, sucking him off to help comfort him, holding his hand when he got a little nervous. You could really feel his vulnerability radiating, never exactly being in this position before. But right as you push a slicked finger inside him, the all new feeling was too much and he backed out.

Yeah, it just isn’t his thing. But you were proud of him nonetheless for trusting you that much to just try. You make sure to suck him off good to make up for it.

Gaz I feel like would be the only one from them to be immediately for it. He’s probably fingered himself before, once giving himself a prostate orgasm that’s left him breathless and shuddering. He feels secure enough to bend over for his love.

Even if you’re just pushing your fingers inside him, he’s already begging you to fuck him.

“Gotta stretch you first, calm down.” But he’s pushing back against you with a shudder. He’s too eager, it makes you roll your eyes from how damn needy he can be. This man has no chill whatsoever.

Gaz back arches would go crazy, arching like a cat as the tip of your strap slams against that sensitive spot inside him. Has such a pretty and plump ass too so it’s hard to not claw at his flesh while he’s taking you from behind.

“F-Fuck.. right there, please. Right- mmfh!”

His eyes will roll back, his cheeks flushed as he asks you to ram his insides in no-mercy style. Kyle will actively bounce back on you, wondering to himself why he’s never asked you himself to do this earlier. It just feels too fucking good that he trears up and cries out for you to keep going.

“No! Don’t stop. Gonnacum, gonnacum, gonnacum!”

He gets so addicted to the feeling that it definitely becomes part of your routine, sometimes just wanting his pretty thoughts to be fucked out of his head.

I can see him coming home from duty one night and he’s just missed you so much. He’s like a dog in heat, begging you to fuck him again because he just needs you to take care of him so bad. Who are you to deny him when he’s asking so nicely? Good boys like Gaz deserve to get dicked down and have their backs blown out by their pretty little partner.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Ghost spits his tea out like a cartoon. I don't see him saying yes at first, very very reluctantly agreeing, but only to you fingering him. He isn’t used to being so vulnerable like that, but… just MAYBE he trusts you enough to not hurt him… pfft.. whatever.

Despite now nervous he feels, you know just how to calm him down. Your hands first run down his chest and stomach as you press small kisses along his lips and jaw. Running lower, you squeeze at his balls a few times before lubing your fingers up and gently pressing them against him.

“Relax, I’ve got you.”

His legs shake a little as you push them into his tight hole, his walls clenching around you. He would definitely not feel comfortable the first few times, or maybe even ever to take something as thick as your strap, but your fingers do him wonders for now.

He would definitely prefer you to move slowly, soft breaths leaving his mouth as he can’t help but dig his fingers into you and bury his flushed face into your neck. As he slowly becomes more and more comfortable with the feeling, you eventually hear him mumble into your neck, asking you to go a little faster.

His moans increase in volume, his legs threatening to close and trap your hand between his thighs every time you curl your fingers. But he’s loving it. He’s breathing heavily in your ear, his body shaking against you as his cock throbs and threatens to spill his cum on his tummy.

“Don’t.. don’t stop. Fuck, g’nna c-cum.. oh god-”

And it’s the best orgasm he’s ever had.

Soap wouldn’t be as eager as Gaz, but also not as against it as Price. Like Ghost, he’s in the middle.

“Seriously, Bonnie? Are you getting bored with me fucking you or what?”

He’ll prefer you take him in missionary first as you prep him. His face will scrunch up so beautifully when you push a finger inside him.

He squirms so much under you, trying to get comfortable. But once you curl your fingers, it only elicits a shaky moan from him as you press against his spongey prostate. And as you get the cue to finger fuck him, his moans become so cute and whiney. He wants to cum so bad just from your fingers, he gets almost sad when you’re forced to pull them out :(

He’s done with words once the strap on comes out. As his back arches against the bed and his legs wrap around your hips, his poor fucked out brain finally knows how it feels to be in your shoes. You know that you can’t feel it, but you wish you could just because of how deliciously he was tightening around the strap.

It’s only a matter of time until you need to slam a hand over his mouth to muffle his slutty moans.

“Mmh- Shit.. fuckfuckfuckfuck-!”

You don’t even need to touch his cock and he’s throbbing, leaking cum like a faucet.

He’s definitely asking for you to peg him again.

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

I feel like this is going to flop so bad since I've seen NONE of these going around. But I need to finish all my drafts though so 😭 rip

[redflagshipwriter]

Red Hot Ghouls chapter 11 2/2

Masterpost

He leaned back a little.

There was a very strange silence. Jack’s face initially turned to fury, then a shocked contemplation. Jason waited it out and wondered if he was going to get in trouble for shooting a civilian in genuine self defense.

“Son.” Jack’s voice was grave. “You’re not Jeremy Waters, are you?”

It took a moment to parse through the immediate offense that this guy had busted his cover and to actually register the full name.

Oh, fuck. That Jeremy? The cult guy? Jason made a face involuntarily. “I am not,” he admitted. Oof. Fuck. Here it goes. “I lied because I wanted to be sure you would meet with me.”

“...Honey!” Jack shouted. He shot up in an alarmingly fast motion for such a big man. “Uh, change of plans! Why don’t you get what we all drink on movie nights?”

Something broke in the other room. “Oh, dear,” said Dr. Fenton. “Just a moment.” A vacuum started up. What the actual fuck was going on in there?

“You thought I was that creep?” Jason said blankly. “What were you going to do?” What sounded like a high pressure hose started up in the other room. He had to deliberately decide not to hunch his shoulders defensively. Jesus fucking christ. They were definitely mad scientists.

Jack Fenton looked shifty. “...Talk,” he tried.

Jason looked at the older man. He didn’t say anything. Jack gradually began to look sheepish but he didn’t break.

“Don't worry about it, honey,” Madeleine Fenton said. She set down three alarmingly green glasses and gave him a close-lipped smile.

Jason was very much going to worry about it. He looked between the two of them.

“Melon soda!” Jack Fenton cheered, obviously overreacting to get out of the conversation. He put both his hands up in the air and then grabbed at his glass. “Yummy! So good for growing young men, drink up.” He laughed awkwardly and then buried his face in his own drink.

Meanwhile, Dr. Madeline Fenton looked at him with catlike consideration. She clearly wanted to see him drink the soda.

He was pretty sure they'd been planning to get rid of Jeremy Waters, permanently. Mixed feelings on that, since Waters clearly sucked. He’d human trafficked Jason to the afterlife, after all. On the other hand, you can’t assume someone is chill when you know they want to kill someone. “No thank you,” he said to the melon soda, stomach a little queasy. Even if Jack was drinking it. And the glasses were identical.

“That’s fair,” Dr. Fenton said and sank into the couch cushion next to her husband. “So, you were interested in learning about the Ghost Zone and the afterlife?” She exchanged a meaningful look with her husband. “Any… particular reason?”

These people were intense when they goggled at a guy.

“Nothing I’m ready to talk about yet,” he evaded. It had the advantage of being true. He didn’t know how Jack made him yet.

They proceeded to have a somewhat tense conversation where the Fentons happily elaborated on all their current research and repeated, “I’m sorry, but we’ve withdrawn that work and won’t discuss it,” whenever he mentioned a publication from before 5 years ago. They’d even gone and gotten a lot of their stuff redacted. They talked and talked until Jason’s throat was hoarse. The Drs. Fenton were a brick wall on those topics that he couldn’t bust or wheedle past.

‘What does a person who posts about ghosts on their family blog think to redact?’ Jason wondered.

Eventually, Jack held up both hands. “It’s bothering me that you won’t drink anything,” he admitted. “Let’s go the Nasty!”

“Good idea, honey,” Dr. Fenton agreed. She stood and swung keys around her finger. “I’ll drive!”

Jack Fenton let out a dramatic “Awww, honey bunches,” and followed her around wheedling for a chance to get behind the wheel.

“No, we don’t want to scare our guest.” Dr. Fenton was immovable. A bit ominous as well.

Jason thought about pointing out that he hadn’t agreed to come with them, but he stood up anyways. It wasn’t like he could just sit on their couch and watch them leave their own house.

He had his first inkling of how badly he’d initially fucked up on that phone call when they got outside. Jack pulled the canvas off the family van with a flourish to reveal an absolutely horrific mural of Danny the ghost king giving gifts to humanity. There was text explaining his generosity, scrolling across the bottom of the van.

Jason stood stock still in horror.

The van gave off the same general impression as psychedelic howling wolf print art.

Jason put a hand over his mouth and tried to process it.

Danny’s white hair floated nobly across a few more feet than Jason was pretty sure it should. He was also kinda built in this painting compared to reality and he looked more… kingly. Not that Danny wasn’t in shape, but he was built more like Dr. Fenton than Jack Fenton, if that made sense.

Wait. Why’d he made that comparison? That should have been a frame of reference for Danny Fenton, not Danny the ghost king. …Was the ghost king basing his form off the Fenton’s kid?

“Come on, son!” Jack slapped him on the back. The force was enough to jar Jason forward and out of his dissociative state.

He moved numbly. ‘Alright, they like Danny king,’ Jason managed to think through the wound to his artistic soul. ‘I can be honest with them about the problem. They’ll want to help him get a spiritual separation from some sketchy guy who lied to them.’

They took him to a mid-tier burger restaurant with weird pretensions. The burge had both garlic aioli and shitty neon nacho cheese sauce on it. Jason picked at it for a while, disturbed and pleased by the unexpected combination.

They got back into their discussion. The next time a Fenton asked him a question, he cleared his throat and put down what was left of his burger. “I asked about Phantom because I’m in a little bit of trouble with him.”

It was weird to call him Phantom when he’d introduced himself as Danny. On the other hand, the Fentons also had a kid named Danny, so it was probably for the best.

Jack’s smile faltered. “What kind of trouble, sport?”

Jason shifted in his chair. “I uh. I may have gotten in Waters’ way. I didn’t know who he was,” he admitted. “Next thing I knew, I was in this green place?” He made a confused hand gesture. “Few minutes later, Phantom shows up, kinda pissy, asked if I did it on purpose, and then says that Waters basically.” He stopped to clear his throat. “Spiritually married us to each other.” His voice got a bit smaller than he meant it to.

That meant there was no audio competition for the loud crack when Madeline Fenton broke the table.

“Jesus fuck,” Jason said, looking at her with wide eyes. “Is your hand-”

She put her elbows on top of the tabletop that still existed and cupped her chin on her palms. “Tell me more.”

“You’re a handsome boy, aren’t you,” said Jack consideringly. “Maddie, honeybunches, d’you know, I was thinking about tracking down the Wishiewish ghostie again today. D’you think-”

“Oh, he should absolutely come with you,” Dr. Fenton agreed. She was beaming. It… did not feel villainous.

‘Why did telling them that make her less scary all of a sudden?’

“What do you like about Phantom? Do you think he’s cute? Was he nice to you?”

Maybe she was just a romantic.

[marvelstan0905]

"Trust me, you're not heavy"

Boyfriend!Kenji Sato X FEM!Chubby/Plus Size! Reader

TW : insecurities regarding weight/fluff/wholesome/stammering/picking up/angst/slightly new relationship/comparison/lewd joke at the end/not proofread yet/ mixed POV

-Hi. This is for comfort. Mostly for me,because I am on the thicker side and these are thoughts that have coursed through my mind. If you will be triggered please don't go beyond the line. I am a Female/AFAB so it will be with she/her pronouns! I'm still gonna write other scenarios with GN readers in mind! Thank you for the love and support😘

©all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

Today was a relaxing day. A chill day from all the chaos that both me and Kenji had been going through. We were relaxing together at Kenji's house. My legs laid on his lap as I sat across from him on the couch. We were watching a movie occasionally being on our phones. Kenji put down his phone and looked at me thoughtfully.

"Hey baby?" Kenji started hesitantly as he took my hand and gently put my phone down. I hummed and smiled giving him my attention. "Can I ask why you don't let me pick you up or sit in my lap?"

I froze. I expected the question but I didn't really expect the question so soon ant so abruptly. I looked away from Kenji, clearing my throat.

"W-What do you mean, baby?" I cleared my throat and withdraw my legs from his lap hugging my knees. Kenji's eyes softened in concern as he observed your tense and almost, hiding body language.

"Well..baby we've been dating for quite a while yet you've never sat in my lap or let me pick you up. If I try to pick you up, you squirm away and stiffen up...did I do something to make you uncomfortable?" Kenji spoke sincerely as he gently took ahold of my hand, his thumb brushing against my knuckles. His beautiful mauve turquoise eyes held concern and guilt. I felt bad.

"N-No. Of course its not you, baby. It's me, really. I..I dont even know where to start really" I breathed with a nervous laughter. I played with his soft but calloused hands. Kenji felt relieved but it still didn't exactly explain why. He wouldn't pressure his girl to talk about it but they had great communication.

"Well you know,you can tell me anything. I'd never judge you. You're the perfect specimen to me" Kenji added with conviction and genuineness. I blushed and shook my head.

"I know that, my love. You'd never judge me. It's just..I'm not exactly small, you know? I don't weigh like 40kgs and stuff like that. Plus I've never really been lifted up or put my whole weight on someone, if that makes sense? Like for trustfall exercises at school, I never got a turn or piggy back rides. Stuff like that..I know it's stupid" I rambled whiles touching my head. I tugged on my sweater sleeves. Kenji's eyes softened and hardened at the same time, he was was quite upset people treated you that way. "Even if someone did volunteer they'd be huffing and puffing or straning. So I'd prefer if you didn't get a hernia or something like that picking me up"

"Welk to start baby, fuxk those people who treated you like that. I'd like their names and Instagram handles..Number 2. It doesn't matter that you don't weigh 40kgs or whatever. That's actually unhealthy but anyways. I don't care if you're not small. Just means there's more to touch and feel on" Kenji smirked whiles groping my pudgy love handles. I giggled and pushed his hands away causing him to chuckle.

"Babe. It's not stupid at all. Trust me, I won't get a hernia or huff or puff, okay? I'm an athlete, I play a sport which requires a great deal of strength. I probably lift weights heavier than you. Even if you weighed 6000lbs I'd glad pick you up and put you in my lap and arms"Kenji assured me whiles he pulled me closer and held my hands.

"I know it's scary but please trust me. I think you're the most beautiful girl ever. With all cute abundance as well. It means I get a marshmallow and extra softness to cuddle, okay?" Kenji smiled and stood up pulling us both to our feet. He pulled me closer and wrapped his arms around my waist. "Can we try it? I promise I won't drop you or strain? I'm not fragile, my love. I won't break if I pick you up. Come on your dating the Ken Sato. Believe when I say you're not heavy at all"

Kenji was convincing but I was still anxious. I really didn't want to be embarrassing or scarred for life...again. I didn't want to witness my boyfriend struggle under my weight but then again, he was right. He did lift weights far heavier than me. His half alien self did have that extra strength and power. I looked up at him and Kenji gave me the puppy eyes and the pout. I groaned and sighed, he really did look like a kicked puppy. "Please princess of mine, please. Trust me?"

"Finnnne. I'm being serious, baby. I'm trusting you. J-Just a minute, okay?" I stammered anxiously. Kenji's smiled brightened up and without a second of hesitation, his large hands wrapped around my thick thighs and picked me up without a struggle or hassle. My instant reaction was to push him away and stiffened up, but I took a deep breath. Kenji wrapped my legs around his waist. His hands laid comfortably under my thighs. I looked at him expecting a tomato face or something but he seemed..fine. Genuinely content and happy as he rocked from side to side slowly.

" Look at that..I'm not huffing or puffing. Neither am I crumbling. See ,baby trust me. You're as light as a paperclip to me. I can toss you around like a ragdoll if I wanted" Kenji shrugged with a triumphant smirk as his hands climbed up and onto my rear. I flushed and breathed a sigh of relief. It was still a lot to get used to but I really liked this. It was nice."Feels good, huh? Plus you're all nice and close to me. I get to kiss you more too"

Kenji spoke softly whiles his lips peppered kisses all over my face. Small flustered giggles left my lips as I leaned into his affection.

"Guess I was too anxious. Thank you, baby. Means alot that you're patient like this. The reassurance means alot as well" I say softly whiles nuzzling my cheek against his cheek. Kenji hummed in satisfaction as well nuzzling against me as well.

"This is nothing, baby. I just wanted you close and for you to be more comfortable in your own skin. I love you so much. All of you. In and out, okay? In fact, I'd like to add to all that chubbiness. Just make you eat even more" Kenji murmured whiles kissing my cheek continously. I giggled and shook my head. We stood like this for a few minutes in a comfortable silence as we exchanged kisses and nuzzles. It was so nice and intimate. The once nervous and anxious air from before seemed to have dissipated as we cuddled in content.

"You know this means I can eat you out in the air now" Kenji murmured with his cheek restint against my head. I clicked my tongue, with a flustered gasp and gently pinched his chest. "Ow! What? Wishful thinking..you know? A little manhandling..come on you know you want to?"

"Kenji Sato!"

"Okay..Okay..I'm sorry..maybe we can try the butterfly position now-"

Thwack

"Ow!O-Okay. Okay. I'm sorry, babygirl. We can talk later hmm?"

[zorrasucia]

❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜ carmy berzatto pls

Hi Anon! ✨

Of course! This is some established relationship naughtiness at The Bear. I hope you enjoy it! 💜

It was one of the first days of fall, and probably one of the last warm days of the year. And so, you were enjoying the weather: wearing your favorite dress and cleaning your apartment with the window open to let the soft breeze in. Your phone rang, the name on the screen read Sydney 🐻.

"Hi, Syd," you greeted her with a smile.

"Hey, uh," she hesitated, the sound of a hectic kitchen in the background. "Remember you told me I could call you when Carmy was being a pain in the ass? I know it was a joke and, you know, I'm not his babysitter and you're not either. Like, I know that. But, uh-" she had a nervous tone in her voice.

"Syd, it's okay," you reassured her. "It's Saturday, I bet things are insane in the kitchen."

"You have no idea," she let out a nervous chuckle. "I seriously wouldn't even be calling if I-"

Syd was right, that you weren't Carmy's babysitter but you could probably talk some sense into him. Besides, you didn't have work today - and they'd probably give you leftovers for your troubles.

"Hey. I'm on my way," you said. "Don't worry."

"Okay, okay," Syd sighed. "I'll, uh, I'll try to chill in the meantime."

You grabbed your keys and bag... You suddenly had a sinful idea and grinned.

~

You walked through the back door, avoiding servers and chefs, mumbling 'behind' every so often like you'd seen the rest of them do. You could make out Carmy's hoarse voice between all the noise.

"This steak is fucking dead! Refire. Chefs, wake the fuck up!"

"Hey, Carm," you called him.

He turned to look at you, eyes wide and fiery. "What are you doing here?" he rasped.

"Do you have a sec?" you said with a polite smile.

"Not really. I-" he looked disoriented and frantic.

Syd stepped in, looking determined. "I'll handle it. Go."

Carmy led you inside his office, exasperation radiating from him.

"Why are you-?" he started.

"Uh, Syd called," you replied, giving him a knowing look as he closed the door behind you.

"Fuck."

"Yeah. She said you were being a pain in the ass," you leaned on his desk.

"I- uh-" he hesitated, then covered his face, red from the heat of the kitchen but also from anger and shame. "She- she was being nice. I'm being an asshole."

You sat on his desk and sighed. "Thought so."

"Huh?" he tilted his head. You had caught him by surprise.

You gestured for him to come closer, so you could talk softer and look him in the eye.

"Listen, I know it gets super loud in your head, and you get overwhelmed and you lash out," you had seen it happen once or twice. "You need to step down when that happens."

"Syd-" he avoided your gaze. "Yeah, Syd has suggested it."

"So?" you cupped his face and tilted it towards you. "Can you do that? Can you let go for ten minutes and calm the fuck down?"

He blinked hard, stressed.

"I don't know," he confessed after a moment of consideration.

"I think you can, Carm," you encouraged him. Then, you put the second, more inappropriate part of your plan in motion. You grabbed his chef whites, and brought him closer, opening your legs to accommodate him. Then you whispered: "I'm not wearing any underwear. Thought you'd like to know."

Carmy stared at you, mouth agape.

"We're in the middle of service-"

"Listen," you gestured at the door. There were no loud bangs or screams, just the normal bustle of a kitchen; if anything it was quieter than when you first entered. "Syd is handling it. The rest of the kitchen is functioning. The sky isn't falling," you grabbed his face with both hands. "Now, will you just fuck me?"

"Shit."

He leaned down to kiss you hard, all tongue and teeth, biting a little. You ran your fingers through his hair, bringing him closer, crossing your ankles behind his waist.

"I need this to be fucking fast," he rasped against your lips.

"I know," you smiled while untying his apron and unbuckling his belt.

The mere indecency of showing up to Carmy's place of work planning to fuck him had made you wet enough to take him that very moment.

"Condoms?" he asked.

You took one out of your bag and handed it to him, palming his cock impatiently through his trousers.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He lowered his trousers and boxers just enough to pull out his cock. He grabbed the back of your knees to pull you closer to the edge of his desk, something feral about him. You bunched up your dress all the way up to your hips, confirming that you were indeed bare under it. Carmy's eyes widened.

"Shit..." his fingers touched your drenched pussy. "You planned this, the whole thing."

You nodded proudly, biting on your lip when he entered you.

"Can't believe you showed up, in the middle of service-" he murmured. "Jesus... To fuck me."

"Desperate times," you touched your forehead to his, his gaze intense. He bottomed out and you covered his mouth to muffle a whine. "See? I think you need it."

That was the tiny push he craved.

He fucked you mercilessly, forceful thrusts while he grabbed your thighs hard, keeping you on the edge of the desk, right where he wanted you. His rhythm was frantic, half out of urgency and half out of anger. You kept your hand on his mouth, silencing the tirade of curses and primal groans he was blurting. Your eyes were on him, breathy pleas leaving your lips.

"Give it to me. It's okay. Please. I need you. Please," you weren't sure if he could actually hear it all but you couldn't stop, not when you were so close to your release. Your pussy tightened around his cock, pulsing.

His grip on you faltered, eyebrows raising as he looked at you for confirmation.

You nodded, eyes half lidded in ecstasy. "Let go, baby. Let go."

He gave you a few desperate thrusts, your palm vibrating with the sound of his moans as he came.

Suddenly, the room felt eerily quiet, the only sounds that mattered were Carmy's panting and your heart's beating. You lowered your hand from his mouth to his chest.

"Shit," he closed his eyes, collecting himself.

"Mhmm," you swayed in your seat, moving his softening cock as you did so. "Better?"

He nodded, a little sheepish. "Thank you."

"Hey. Can't do this every time," you said honestly. The likelihood of you coming to fuck some sense into him on weekdays was low to none. "But why don't you think about this next time you're about to lose it?" you suggested.

"You want me to get hard while running the expo?" he chuckled. His heartbeat was slowing down.

"I mean, if that's what it takes to get you to step down and chill, sure," you teased.

While the idea of Carmy fucking his hand while thinking of you was appealing, it seemed a little impractical to do at the restaurant.

"Might just take a smoke break," he offered. "Save the fucking for when I get home."

"Deal," you kissed him and tapped his cheek gently. "Now, come on, get out there."

He got dressed and ready at a dizzying speed, taking time to rearrange your dress and kiss you one last time before returning to the kitchen. He left the door ajar, and you peeked just in time to see him give an apologetic nod to Syd and ask her to continue running the expo. It was a start. You were satisfied.

[twilightkitkat]

Part 2 of thinking about the reaction another universe's Logan would have to meeting Wade. To Wade and Logan's relationship.

Part 1 , Part 3, Part 4

---

It'd been a few days since Wade had revealed the truth to Wolverine.

He'd expected things to be awkward, for them to fight over it, for Other-Logan to pull away so that his previous annoyance-indifference would look warm in comparison.

But, shockingly, things had gotten... easier?

Wolverine seemed more comfortable with him, becoming more talkative than before (which wasn't exactly hard to top, but progress is progress). Instead of yanking away the second Wade got too close for comfort, he'd let him brush by him, close enough that Wade could feel his body heat through the seat. Instead of sitting a respectable five feet away at all times, Other-Logan now sat at a friendly distance, close enough to sling an arm around his shoulder if Wade was in a particularly masochistic mood.

It was nice to feel like he had companionship in a world where he knew no one. It was comfortable. It reminded him of his own Logan sometimes, when he could close his eyes and drown out his thoughts and pretend that he was on a mission with Logan in his world instead of in the middle of fucking nowhere with a shitty knockoff.

Well, "shitty knockoff" is a harsh way to put it. This Logan wasn't that bad (he was certainly less anger-prone than his counterpart). It just... wasn't the same. It's like wanting a bowl of Lucky Charms at 2am so you go to a Dollar General and buy a copycat brand to satisfy your craving. Yes, it's similar, but no, it isn't the same.

And fuck, did Wade feel his Logan's absence.

It'd especially hit at night, when Wade was used to curling up on the pull-out couch with Logan beside him and pretending that he was shuffling closer so he wouldn't fall off the edge.

(They both were able to sleep in far more precarious positions. A perk of the job. But under the veil of darkness, they were able to pretend that they weren't vying for touch just to have it. To feel the warmth of someone else next to them. To know that they were both alive and safe and, despite everything, here with each other.)

But, even if Wade curled in on himself at night, feeling the chill in his bones despite the luxurious blankets in the mansion or whatever insulating sleeping bag he was using, he was fine.

So fine, in fact, that it didn't bother him at all that it'd been nearly a week since he arrived in this universe. Not that he was counting. (He was.)

Logan was probably fine. Wade would send him a message or something, let him know that he was okay and that the mission was just taking longer than expected, but interdimensional texting hadn't yet been invented. Or, at least, the TVA bastards were cheap enough to not let him access it.

Besides, they'd been making progress. They were finally working their way up to beating The Big Bad, to telling whatever evil organization was plotting to destroy this timeline to fuck off and go to hell.

As a matter of fact, they were on their way to a particularly promising lead right now. All the henchmen they've managed to get information out of seemed to point their fingers to the same place, some discreet nuclear power plant that had been shut down a decade ago. (Real original, guys. Why don't supervillains ever set up base in a less stereotypical place? Like a public park or an Olive Garden. But nooooo, it always had to be the shady abandoned government facilities.)

"You seem to be thinking real hard over there, bub," Wolverine remarked, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Oh, y'know, just the usual, like what your abs would taste like if I covered them in whipped cream. Would it be more salty, or sweet? Do you think they'd taste metallic if you'd been roughed up lately?" Wade slid back into his typical persona instead of lingering on his unhelpful desire to mope around until he could go home.

Other-Logan snorted. "I think you're thinking way too hard about my abs when you should be focusing on your plan for when we get to the base."

Wade pouted, "Awwww, c'mon, Wolvie, don't you know that my pleasure comes before our job? You only live once, fuck capitalism and all that."

"Without capitalism, you wouldn't have the money to get 'pleasure,'" Logan deadpanned.

"Ah yes, you're right. I'm but a humble servant to the almighty Capitalism King. I shall kill and show no mercy as long so long as my king asks for it." Wade clutched a hand over his heart dramatically, voice imitating sincerity but a few pitches too high.

Logan just shook his head and chuckled, trying and failing to suppress the grin that threatened to stretch across his face.

It looked good on him. A far cry from the serious, no-nonsense, version he'd first encountered. Who knew all it took to have someone open their heart to you was revealing you were besties in an alternate universe?

"We're here," Logan grunted, smirk falling off his face as he climbed out of the vehicle.

"Fucking finally! One hour longer and I think I'd puke all over your shiny yellow suit," Wade whined obnoxiously. Logan elbowed him harshly in response. Ouch. Manners.

The base was exactly what you'd expect. Just run down enough to not attract suspicion but just well-kept enough to be home to some freaky villain technology.

And, also as expected, as soon as they entered a blaring alarm went off. Flashing red lights and all. Just great, exactly what he needed today. Wade was definitely going to end up with a headache by the end of this raid. They're lucky he didn't have epilepsy or he'd sue them.

Wolverine didn't seem to be faring much better, judging by his furrowed eyebrows and how he was barely holding back a grimace.

They make quick work of whatever lackeys they find as they tear their way through the halls. They'd definitely improved their synchronization during the time they'd spent fighting together (mainly on Wolverine's part).

Finally, they arrive at some sort of convoluted metal dome with a suspiciously alien-looking machine in the middle. It didn't seem to be an exact replica of the Time Ripper Wade knew, but it was close enough to make an educated guess about its purpose. (An educated wish, some may say.)

Unfortunately, it wasn't left unguarded.

Some old-looking bald guy (never a good sign) with a metal arm (again, never a good sign) was holding a suspiciously futuristic gun. (Who is this, Cable's long-lost twin with a receding hairline gene?)

Deadpool unsheathed one of his katanas, gripping his gun tightly with his other hand. Wolverine shifted into a battle stance beside him.

"And what do we have here?" The man drawled, his piercing gaze sweeping over them both. "Deadpool and... Wolverine? An interesting team-up." Despite this, he didn't seem too surprised. If anything, he seemed to be glancing warily at Wolverine beside him.

"I don't have time to listen to your monologue, how about you just undo whatever fucky-wucky stuff you did to the timeline and we all head our separate ways, yeah?" Wade was nothing if not merciful for offering this fucker a chance to stand down before it got ugly.

"I don't think so," the man huffed, as if he found it amusing that he'd even suggest that. He was starting to get on Wade's nerves.

"Then let's cut the chit-chat and get straight to the ass beating." Deadpool nodded at Wolverine, who smirked almost imperceptibly.

They both lunged at the same second, Wolvie swiping at the bastard's head while Deadpool fired at his legs and torso.

Oh fuck, this guy has a regenerative healing factor too, Wade groaned internally when he saw the bullet wounds stitch themselves up. Just his luck.

The battle was more difficult than expected, but they managed to hold up fairly well by bouncing off each other's attacks. When Wade moved in, Logan moved out. When Wolverine sunk in his claws, Deadpool fired his gun or slashed with his katana.

That was until the bastard injected himself with some sort of serum, like a heroin addict stopping to shoot up during a fight.

That better not be what I think it is, Wade grimaced.

It was exactly what he thought it was.

Fighting a meaner-looking, more equipped version of Cable was hard enough, but on steroids? Wolverine and Deadpool soon began to lag behind. Even their teamwork couldn't help much when the opponent was that much stronger and they both were becoming exhausted.

However, Deadpool saw an opening. The fucker wasn't guarding his flank properly. And so, without warning, he flipped over the asshole's head and slashed at his side at the same moment Logan sank his claws into his neck. (Yay, teamwork!)

It seemed to hit some sort of weak point because the man slumped down onto the ground, unconscious. Wade sighed in relief and walked over to Logan.

"Hey man, I don't know about you, but when we get out of here I think we should get some chimichangas to celebrate—"

Bang.

Wade was flung into the wall with the sheer force of whatever futuristic weapon the man shot him with. Fucking rat bastard.

His head began spinning with the force at which he'd been full-body slammed against the wall. His vision was blurred and it was hard to make out shapes, but it seemed that Logan was having the same issue, given the red, blue, and yellow spot on the wall opposite him.

His vision was dancing with black dots and colors bled together, but through the haze he could make out the man they'd fought getting up and limping away, seemingly talking to someone as he did so.

Wade groaned and tried to lift his hand up to feel the wound on his head when he noticed. There were fragments embedded in his suit where he'd hidden it.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

In his haze, he managed to yank the tattered remains out of a device from his suit. Oh shit. It was broken.

How the hell was he supposed to get home now?

He didn't have time to linger on the question before darkness overtook his vision.

---

Logan paced back and forth on the shitty hardwood floors of their one-bedroom apartment.

Where the hell was he?

Wade was supposed to be back a month ago. Hell, the mission was only supposed to take a day and he said he'd be back for dinner that night.

But then that night passed, and Wade didn't show. Logan had waited at the table, bouncing his lex anxiously (although he'd deny it if anyone asked) long after Al reluctantly went to sleep and Mary Puppins settled down for the night. He remembered waiting, staring blankly at his plate but unable to stomach a bite, until he finally decided to put their food in the fridge to reheat later. He felt vaguely nauseous at the idea of eating peacefully while Wade was still frolicking about, fighting bad guys (and potentially getting hurt).

Logan fell asleep in that position, his head resting on his arms, hyperaware and jolting awake at the slightest sound. Waiting to hear the jingle of the doorknob and the sound of Wade shuffling in.

When Wade came back, Logan would tell them that he didn't care what the mission was about or what type of universe it was, he'd come with him next time. No room for arguments. He'd rather be bleeding and bruised by Wade's side than feel the gnawing emptiness and anxiety of being apart from him.

Logan never dealt well with separation. Not when it came to Wade. The only person who made this universe he'd barged his way into a home. The one who'd looked at him—a pathetic, miserable, drunk, mess—and still asked him to come home with him. The only person to make him feel like he belonged somewhere, to someone. That he wasn't just an unwanted, shunned monster who could only be loved for the destruction he could cause.

When Wade was gone, it felt like he was alone again. Like he was back in that shitty universe where even the fucking bartender refused him service unless he begged. Where everyone mocked him or shied away but nobody looked him in the eyes.

Wolverine was used to being alone. He'd been alone, in one way or another, for as long as he could remember.

But that's why he latched violently, viciously, desperately, onto the first lifeboat he could. The first person to yank his head above the water and welcome him onto their raft without expecting anything.

The next morning came and Wade still hadn't come back.

Logan tried to convince himself that it was just taking a second longer, that maybe he'd encountered an obstacle, that everything was still okay.

(Don't be overbearing, Logan. If he sees what a needy, writhing, mess you are then he won't want to be around you anymore. He'll finally wise up and leave you behind like everyone else. Like how you deserve. He'll finally see you for the pathetic creature you are instead of the delusion of a man he's been holding onto.)

But then that day turned into two. Turned into three. Turned into nearly a week in which he hadn't heard a word from Wade.

(Accept things how they are, Logan. Take the warmth you can get and savor it, clutch it so tight to your chest that your fingers bleed, and don't ask for more. Don't ruin this.)

Blind Al had tried saying something, once, about how Wade might just be running that. That he was having troubles, you know how it is (but even she had a worried crease to her brow, the slightest bit of hesitation that spoke volumes). Logan had grunted something he couldn't remember and kept pacing.

It felt like every day was an endless loop. Wake up, choke down what food he could, and wait anxiously. Wait to see if Wade would stroll through the door.

Until one night, he snapped. He'd just gotten out of the shower (the first he'd taken in a while, with how difficult it was to focus on anything but Wade Wade Wade Where is Wade Where—) when he noticed Wade's shitty music box was playing. The one he had of him.

He saw red. The next thing he knew, he stood in a completely trashed living room. Chairs were knocked over and splintered, bottles were shattered, and blood was splattered across the walls from where he'd raked his claws up and down his arms in a desperate attempt to get out of his skin because it was burning so badly and he just wanted to crawl inside Wade instead of being trapped in a useless fucking husk of a mindless animal—

He barely scraped the room back together by the time Al got back. He knew she was able to tell, but she didn't say anything. Just sat down on the tattered couch and murmured something that suspiciously sounded like Wade's name.

Logan was barely functioning. It was a Good Day if he managed to eat, shower, and not drink himself into a stupor by night. Every day that went by made the knot in his stomach twist further until he could barely remember what it felt like to not be on edge constantly.

(He knew it was pathetic. That he should be better than this. That he shouldn't need Wade to babysit him to make him want to eat and sleep and shower and do all the things that normal people were expected to just do. He knew that he shouldn't revert back to a state of depression and anxiety when he was gone but Logan didn't know what to do. He'd been fucked up for so long that he didn't know what okay meant anymore, didn't know to just breathe without clenching his teeth and forcing his lungs to expand and contract.)

(The only time he got relief from the reminder of who he was and what he'd done was with Wade, who knew him and still somehow wanted him. Who made him feel normal, like he could just be Logan and live a domestic life as a borderline househusband in their apartment. Who made him feel like he had a future and a chance at happiness again.)

At first, he could convince himself that it was just the mission holding him up. That he was being unreasonable. (Why didn't Wade just take him along to begin with? He'd let Wade talk as long as he wanted, take the lead, and annoy him however he liked as long as he could be with him.)

But then doubt began creeping in. What if Wade realized that he really was the Worst Wolverine? What if this universe's Wolverine was better than him—nicer, stronger, less fucked up—and Wade preferred him. He wouldn't blame him. Hell, he knew Wade only settled on him because of a time crunch and the fact that he didn't claw his eyes out immediately. If Wade had more time, he would've gone with a better option.

(Logan chose to ignore the instinctive dread he felt at that thought. What if Wade hadn't come for him? What if he found another Wolverine and he was left to be drunk and miserable for the rest of his life, never knowing Wade's presence? The thought made him physically ill.)

But Wade, despite what people said, was a man of his word. He kept his promises and tried to avoid lying. Even if he did decide to fuck off and find another Logan, he'd tell him first. He'd let him know, at least.

As the time crept closer to a month, Logan's anxiety reached an all-time high. If Wade was taking this long, something must've gone horribly wrong. He's in danger.

Logan couldn't pace back and forth anymore, listening to the TVA rattle excuse after excuse when he called them to ask for an update. (It's confidential, they said. Don't worry, they said. Eventually, they got so used to him calling—without fail, twice a day, once in the morning and once at night—that they'd immediately forward him to the line he needed. And they'd always give the same excuses.)

Not anymore.

Logan was going to find Wade, even if he had to rip the whole fucking TVA or multiverse apart to do so.

---

Wade groaned, slamming his forehead against the counter before eating another spoonful of cereal.

The X-men still hadn't found a way to fix his universe-hopping device. To be fair, back in his universe it'd taken a while to fix Cable's time-jumping one, and Wade's sure that dimensional travel adds a whole new level of complexity. The TVA does not fuck around with their technology.

That being said, at least the rest of the X-men were starting to take the timeline issue seriously. They'd finally all decided to pitch in and try investigating on their own time.

"Look alive a little, bub, we're going on a mission today." Logan eyed Wade as he continued to eat his high-protein classic bacon and scrambled eggs breakfast.

The other X-men eyed them curiously. Logan had been acting differently as of late. Ever since Deadpool had come to their world and began hanging around him, he'd softened around the edges. He'd become a little more open, actively engaging with conversation instead of tuning in and out.

It was... nice to see him close to someone. To see him look at someone with an odd sort of affection visible in his eyes. Even if it was a little jarring.

(A few wondered what Wade had done to earn his affection. How a single man could swoop in and do what they'd been trying to do for years. What was so special about him? Why couldn't they reach him earlier? What were they doing wrong?)

It was good to see him be close to someone. Even if it stung a little that Wade made more progress in a month than they'd made this entire time.

Aside from that, the X-men had been able to interact with Wade more ever since he started spending a bit more time at the mansion.

When he'd gotten knocked out and his dimensional travel device broken, it'd taken a few days for him to fully regenerate (and mentally recuperate). During that time, him and Logan seem to have developed an odd kinship. A casual, friendly relationship where they eat meals together and occasionally, in between missions, watch shows together, or just... talk.

It was a little unnerving to see Logan so willing to act almost domestically with someone else. Of course, the X-men had managed to coax Logan into hanging out with them more casually. And sometimes, they'd gotten the privilege of seeing how his shoulders would relax and he'd become content to just listen and soak up the company. But those occasions were few and far between, and Logan's default state was to keep a certain degree of distance.

Wade had begun to interact with the other X-men, too. He'd taken to teasing Colossus to pay him back for the many headaches he'd given him in his world. Logan often trailed a few steps behind, trying and failing to pretend to be engaged with something else while keeping an eye on Wade. It'd be endearing, almost, if it wasn't so out of character for him.

Unfortunately, after the villain had escaped, their luck seemed to dry up. They'd only gotten a few leads since, and all were dead ends. With too much time to spare and too much pent-up energy (and anxiety to some degree over being away from his world for so long), Wade accompanied Wolverine on a few of his other missions.

Wade sighed and pushed away the remainder of his cereal. Well, there went his appetite. Thinking about his world and his Logan was a surefire way to kill his mood.

(It made him feel sick to think about how Logan was faring without him. To question when he'd get to see him again. To remember that this wasn't His Logan. It was always uncomfortable to be away from him for too long, to feel the same loneliness settle inside him like an old friend. What a joke. He saved the world just so he could whine about how he wanted it to revolve around him.)

(Logan never made him feel that way. He understood how it felt to lose everyone and still tremor at the thought. He understood the struggle of knowing you'd outlive everyone you love. He understood because they'd been through it together. Because they'd shared their pain and their feelings and their hearts and bared themselves, raw and vulnerable and bloody, before each other and still sacrificed themselves for each other anyway.)

"Not in the mood?" Logan asked. "Y'know, we have other types of cereal. Think they keep Captain Crunch or Cheerios or some shit around here."

And Wade almost screamed in frustration.

It was so stupid. Logan was trying to help. But Other-Logan wasn't His Logan.

His Logan knew that he hated that type of cereal. That he drenched his pancakes in syrup. That he was a picky bitch with food and would only eat certain brands. He'd learned to cook food just for him so that he could eat comfortably.

He was about to take a few centering, deep breaths (never claim he doesn't know how to be zen) before an alarm blared.

"There's been a break-in in the main lobby of the mansion!" someone shouted.

Huh. That's a convenient way to get information. A very good way to move the plot along.

The X-men around him were tense, drawing their weapons and preparing to investigate who dared intrude. Wade got ready too, drawing his baby knife just in case. (Not that he really can take the moral high ground here, considering he did the same just a month ago.)

Other-Logan glanced at him from the corner of his eye and Wade nodded. The two slinked along the walls, braced for an attack.

Loud crashing noises could be heard from the lobby. Furniture slammed against the wall, shattering into a million splinters (strong ass motherfucker, it seems). There was yelling and screaming and... growling?

The cacophony got louder as they drew closer. Except, Wade began to recognize the sounds. They were distinct, clear, and... familiar.

Too familiar.

Holy shit.

"Logan?" he breathed, and then he was darting out from behind the wall even as Other-Logan let out an aborted shout and attempted to grab his arm.

He slipped through his grip and turned the corner, and lo and behold, there he was.

His Logan.

He was snarling, claws unsheathed and raised to attack the people who swarmed him. They all seemed terrified and incredibly confused (given that he had the same face as one of the X-men themselves), but seemed to recognize him as an enemy and were making a quite frankly pathetic attempt to fight back.

He was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his forehead and eyes darting around anxiously. He had a feral look on his face, like a cornered animal that had just escaped his captors.

His eyes were somehow distant and hyper-focused, as if he was running on pure adrenaline without really registering anything.

He looked furious. He looked serious. (He looked scared.)

It was the sweetest sight he'd ever seen in his life.

"Peanut!" Wade shouted, pushing through the people who crowded around.

Logan's head snapped in his direction immediately, body trembling.

"Wolvie! Babygirl!" he continued to yell out nicknames as he drew closer, finally elbowing past the last line of unhelpful bystanders.

"Logan," he murmured breathlessly, reverently, at finally getting to see him again. To see him up close and personal.

As soon as he muttered the word, Logan pounced.

From behind him, Other-Logan and a few of the X-men yelled for him to move out of the way, that he was hostile.

But Wade knew that face. Knew those eyes.

This wasn't just A Logan, this was His Logan.

(His Logan, who knew how he liked his pancakes. Who listened to him rant about stupid conspiracy theories and children's shows. Who had gone through hell and back with him just to help him save his family. Who he'd slowly, painstakingly built a home with.)

And so Wade simply opened his arms and offered a shaky, wet, smile as Logan barreled into him, wrapping around him like he'd die if he let go for a second. Digging his fingers (with the claws retracted, luckily) into his back and gripping onto the fabric of his suit like a lifeline. Shivering against him as if he were a man stranded in a blizzard, finally able to huddle up against a fireplace.

And oh.

Logan was crying, hot tears trailing down the curve of Wade's neck and soaking his suit as Logan nuzzled closer, desperately.

When Wade went to stroke the back of Logan's head and brushed against his own damp face, he realized he was crying too.

He'd been trying so desperately to push down his feelings. Of frustration, of anger, of sadness (of fear). To pretend he didn't miss Logan like he missed air, to pretend that the separation wasn't putting him on edge.

He knew that Logan would worry about him. Wade wasn't that oblivious. But he didn't think Logan would be nearly full-body sobbing against him, rocking back and forth, trying to convince himself that Wade was real.

"Please, never do that again. Don't leave."

And oh.

Wade knew that Logan cared. Knew that Logan would be upset, would miss him, if he disappeared or died. Logically, he knew that.

But Wade was used to being seen as annoying. To being someone people could begrudgingly tolerate, maybe occasionally find funny, but never actively want. Was used to being seen as lesser.

Physically, he was a freak. Mentally, he was a wreck. Emotionally, he was one bad day away from trying (and failing, yet again) to end it all.

He didn't understand how someone could want him. Could need him. Could make him their whole world and cradle it in their hands like his absence would be the collapse of their very foundation.

And yet, here Logan was.

When Wade considered it, it was obvious in hindsight. Logan may respond to his insults, and may be up for a fight, but he never actually seemed to be bothered by Wade. When Wade called him stupid nicknames, he may grumble out a response, but never showed actual annoyance. When Wade slung an arm around his shoulder, he'd let it rest there or lean in closer instead of pushing it off. When Wade goaded him into a fight, he'd rise to the challenge but never unsheathe his claws unless Wade drew out his knives, too.

In fact, he'd only shown true irritation when they'd first met. When Wade had kidnapped him and turned his life on his head. When they were struggling under high-stress situations while Logan grappled with grief.

Logan... more than cared. More than tolerated his existence. More than reluctantly put up with him.

The realization was so obvious and yet it hit Wade like a freight train. This whole time, he'd been trying to convince himself that his feelings were one-sided, that he was abnormal for latching so hard onto Logan while he only humored him in response.

He'd let his self-hatred blind him to the most obvious fact of all: Logan needed him too.

He clutched Logan's back tighter, murmuring reassurances and apologies into the top of his head.

"I'm not leaving you, Wolvie," Wade whispered, "you'll have to kill me to get me to stop haunting your ass."

Logan grumbled, "You aren't allowed to die on me. You can't leave. Ever."

"I won't, I won't. You came and got me. I'm not going anywhere."

While Wade and Logan had their reunion, the crowds were herded away until only a few X-men remained. They stared at the two, bewildered.

"...Is that seriously Logan?" Jean murmured to Scott.

"It looks like him... but..." he gestured to the scene in front of them.

They'd never seen Logan break down before. Had never seen him so vulnerable. He'd never let anyone as close as he was to Wade, right now. Not even a fraction as much.

They cast contemplative and vaguely concerned glances at their world's Logan. He was staring hollowly at the scene in front of him.

It was so... odd to see himself like that. Open. Emotional. (Safe enough to let himself be that way.)

Wade had never acted that way with him, either. Tears welling up in his eyes, looking at Logan as if he hung the stars in the sky and set his universe back in balance again.

(Logan looked back at him with the same fervency, as if Wade was his universe. The stars and the sun and the planets all in one.)

It made that familiar envy curl in his gut. Before, it'd been muted by the fact that Wade's Logan was just a story. He was the one physically with him, able to get to know him and learn about him and get his undivided attention and time.

It felt nice. To be understood. To be able to treat someone as an equal, a companion, without worrying about them pulling away if he revealed too much. He'd gotten used to Wade's presence, to the comfort it brought.

However, it looked like he was going to have to confront the version of him that made it all possible.

Wade and Logan had finally calmed down, holding each other more loosely and letting the tension bleed away. Logan nearly collapsed onto Wade as he came down from the adrenaline high, feeling the exhaustion and anxiety of the past month hit him all at once. He was in Wade's arms and finally able to process his emotions now that he was home.

Other-Logan approached them carefully, schooling his face into the typical mask of calculated indifference.

However, despite that, there was a sharpness to his tone as he tersely spoke to his counterpart, "Nice to meet you, other me. It seems you've managed to find your way into our mansion."

"Yeah, well, the mansion was holding something of mine, so let's call it even," Logan near growled, glaring at himself.

It'd almost be funny if not for the tension crackling in the air between them.

"Woah, woah, woah," Wade placated, "we've all made our mistakes. I'm guilty too, your honor. Let me just have some time alone with dear Wolvie here and we can all have a group therapy session later to talk about our feelings."

Other-Logan looked at Wade, a searching look in his eyes. Wade met his gaze steadily, smiling slightly to reassure him that it'd be OK.

Finally, he sighed and moved away to let the other X-men gawk.

It was going to be a long night.

[strangersteddierthings]

I love a good S3 Steddie AU so—

Eddie and Robin were friends in high school, and every time they needed cover they would pretend to be dating.

So she starts working at Scoops, sees Steve not knowing he’s different now, and as a defense mechanism tells him about her “boyfriend”

Then they become buds but she still doesn’t correct the record, because she would have to explain why she lied

So Eddie comes into the shop and she’s like “That’s him!” and Steve is “🥺”

Because he and Eddie have been dating for months

THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT AT THAT LAST LINE NONNY. This story starts on July 1st (S3E3), so after they've cracked the Russian code.

-

It takes a full month of working at Scoops to get Robin to be more chill around him. He gets it. He was never outright mean to her but he was a dick in high school and his reputation lingers.

He's happy now that she's graduated from quietly distrusting him to outright teasing him. He's pretty sure it means they're friends now, or something like it. She even made that white board to mock his inability to flirt a few weeks ago. He knows he'll never get a tally in the You Rule category because he's not actually trying to flirt with anyone, what with him having a boyfriend of his own. Not that he can brag about his boyfriend as much as Robin brags about her boyfriend.

And, Jesus, did she brag at first. Steve had been convinced it was a new romance, and therefore she was still in the honeymoon phase, except she said they'd been dating since she was a freshman. With senior year starting for her in September, Steve's a little jealous.

He hopes that he and Eddie never leave their honeymoon phase. It's only been three months, and Steve's in awe that Eddie even bothered to look his way after how he'd been in school. Still in awe that Eddie wants more with Steve than just the physical. That Eddie wants cuddles during a movie, and sappy hand holding while they just chat, and to hold Steve after a nightmare on the rare occasion they get to share a bed through the night.

Anyway, the point. Robin is something of a friend and Steve's pleased about it. They have to be friends now, right? They cracked a Russian code together! (Steve refuses to give Dustin any credit for their official jump into friendship even though they wouldn't have had a Russian code to crack without him.)

"Are you and the Boy going to do anything for the Fourth?" Steve asks apropos nothing after handing off a banana split, leaving no more customers to help currently. He's a little ashamed to admit that he doesn't remember the name of her boyfriend. He's sure she said it at some point, so he's blaming his shit memory for that. But she just refers to him as the Boy, and doesn't find it weird that Steve does, too, so he'll take the win.

"Oh, uh, we haven't really discussed it. I'm scheduled closing on the Fourth so," Robin shrugs.

"We'll be in misery together," Steve says.

"Joy."

It's times like these, where Robin is so deadpan Steve can't tell if she's joking or not. Like maybe they aren't the budding friends Steve thinks they are. She's tough to read, sometimes.

"Well, even with the closing shift, there's still a lot of night left. Great time for fireworks."

"True. I'm sure The Boy is thinking up something as we speak. He likes to surprise me."

Steve's not jealous. He's not. He knows that Eddie would surprise him if they didn't have to be so secret about it all.

They do have plans for after Steve gets off work on the Fourth to go to the carnival. It's not strange for friends to go together. Maybe Steve can convince Robin come and to bring the Boy and they can just be a group of friends hanging out?

"Well, if he hasn't planned anything, maybe you and he will want to come hang out at the carnival? I'm going with a friend, maybe we'd see each other."

Robin levels him with a look, eyes squinted in judgement. "Your friends, the children?"

"I have more friends than just children!"

"I literally do not believe you. Why don't any of your age appropriate friends come bother you here, like all those kids?"

It's a valid question, Steve can concede. "That's because I do not want him to see me in this uniform. I will never live it down."

Robin raises an eyebrow. "Does he even know you work here?"

"Absolutely not. So if you do bump into us at the carnival, you are not allowed to say our place of employment. I'm serious, Robin. This will ruin me. You can say 'the mall' because that's all I'll say about it."

Robin's grin turns mischievous. "So, what I'm hearing is, I have blackmail material against the Steve Harrington?"

Steve groans. She's joking. He's like... 80% sure she's joking. He makes a mental note to ask Eddie if he knows Robin.

"Oh shit!" Robin calls out, surprised but delighted. Steve whips his head to her, and sees she's looking out the front door and through a sea of people.

"What, is it Dustin? Russians?" Steve joins her side quickly trying to see what she sees.

"No, it's-" she cuts herself off and Steve turns his head to look at her, only to find she's already looking at him. "It's my boyfriend. I don't think he's seen me yet. Want to meet him if he comes in?"

"Hell yeah I do. I need to meet the man you won't shut up about," Steve grins at her before turning his attention back to the people. His eyes scan over all of them, trying to figure out which guy looks like he might be Robin's boyfriend. Which, yes, he knows isn't something you can judge based on looks (he and Eddie are a prime example) but still.

And speaking of Eddie- no! No no! He'll never hear the end of it if Eddie sees the stupid sailor outfit. Eddie hasn't spotted him yet, so Steve slides around Robin to be out of eyesight. "You see him?"

"Yeah, he's- oh! I think he's seen me. He's coming this way," almost as an after thought, she adds, "do you remember Eddie Munson?"

Play it cool, Steve. "Uh... yes. Why? Is he coming this way? I thought I saw him out there..." Way to play it cool. If Robin didn't seem so hyped to be seeing her boyfriend, she would absolutely be questioning him.

"Oh. Well, he's my boyfriend, and yes he is."

Steve feels the floor fall out from under him.

The whole world shifts and Steve cannot stay here. He thinks he says something about a bathroom break before ducking into the employees only door, and then his body moves him further still until he's through several other doors and suddenly outside in the heat of the day.

Do you remember Eddie Munson? Well, he's my boyfriend.

He doesn't know what to do with that. Doesn't know how to process it. How to proceed. Eddie is- but he can't- this can't be real. This is a crazy dream, brought on by thoughts of Russians and codes and leftover Upside Down bullshit and he will be waking up anytime now to get ready for work.

Eddie Munson. He's my boyfriend.

He can't be your boyfriend Steve wants to scream. He can't be your boyfriend because he's mine.

Maybe... Maybe it's turning out to be that while Eddie is his boyfriend, he's not Eddie's. Maybe Eddie's never thought of him as a boyfriend.

Every instance runs through his head; all the times Eddie wouldn't stay the night. All the times Eddie told him he couldn't stay at the trailer. Is Eddie actually even in a band or is band practice just a convenient lie that keeps him from having to see Steve while still keeping him in his back pocket?

All the hiding, and the let's keep this just to us for now, and how wonderfully convenient it is that this needs to, has to, be a secret when you're in a queer relationship in a small town.

Steve's a goddman idiot!

Of course, Eddie has a girlfriend. Of course, he agreed to 'see where this thing goes.' This is why Eddie bothered to even look his direction. Because there's no scenario where Steve comes out okay. He can't even tell Robin her boyfriend isn't the fucking golden, perfect boy she brags about because how does he do that without telling her how he knows?

All the worst case scenarios play in his mind. Robin being in on it. Her and Eddie laughing at him behind his back, waiting for the right time to publicly out him. To get whatever revenge they think he owes to them for all his dick behavior in school. His whole relationship being a joke.

He lets out a yell and whips around to punch the wall next to the employee entrance door. The pain grounds him almost immediately and that yell turns into a chokes off sob, his eyes squeezing shut as he leans in to rest his forehead against the wall and take a shuddering breath.

There's no way Robin is in on this. And it was mean of him to think so. If Steve's just been some sort of experiment to Eddie, then that's on Eddie.

And Steve. For being stupid enough to believe anyone would actually be interested in him. For taking one look at Eddie's stupid dimpled smile and tripping over himself to do everything in his power to see it again. For fucking falling in love too fast, too soon, and not asking enough fucking questions and-

Oh.

That's why this hurts so much. That's why he didn't stick around to watch Eddie sweat at seeing his long-term girlfriend and- and whatever the fuck he thought Steve was working together and getting caught in whatever fuckery he's doing.

Steve's gone a fallen in love with the asshole.

He pushes off the wall, takes a deep breath to steel himself, and makes a decision. He's going to confront Eddie on the Fourth, since that's the next day they'll see each other. He'll tell him they're done, and that Eddie needs to come clean to Robin about what he's done, or he will. She deserves to know, and Steve can deal with the consequences.

When he returns the Scoops, there's no sign of Eddie, but Dustin is there.

(What Steve doesn't know is that Robin and Eddie hugged in greeting. Robin asked what he was up to. Eddie told her he was searching for his boyfriend. He works at the mall and Eddie wants to surprise him. Robin doesn't ask who he's looking for, and Eddie doesn't offer, because they both know the importance of coming out on your own terms and in your own time. Robin does ask if he's happy, and Eddie says he didn't know he could be this happy.)

Of course, what follows that is a series of terrible events that result in being stuck in an elevator, captured and tortured by Russians, drugged, and then rescued.

He and Robin end up in a bathroom, puking up their guts, and Robin says, in a Russian accent, "Interrogate me."

Steve chuckles and replies, "Okay. Interrogate you. Sure. Um... when was the last time you peed your pants?"

"Today."

"What?"

"When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw. It was just a little bit, though."

She laughs and he groans. It's definitely still in her system.

"Okay. My turn."

"Hit me."

"Have you..." she starts, leaving a pause as she thinks of what to ask, before ending with, "ever been in love?"

And Steve, horrifyingly, mortifyingly, just starts to cry. He can normally reign this in, has better control than this, but whatever drug is still in his system robs him of that.

In another universe, where Steve is able to control himself, he'd lie. He'd describe Robin, knowing she's happily taken, maybe slide himself under the partition between their stalls so she can reject him to his face, and they can laugh it off, solidifying their friendship.

But that's not what happens.

What happens instead is this: Robin, who does not slide herself across the floor but instead hauls herself upright to stumble around the partition, kneels in front of him as Steve lets out hiccupping sobs in between saying embarrassing things like yes and they don't love me back, they never love me back.

And Robin. Sweet, wonderful Robin, to whom he has been the other person in her years long relationship, tugs his arm until he's no longer hugging the toilet and is instead cradled by Robin. And she hums and assures him that whoever doesn't love him is an idiot and it makes Steve sob harder because she doesn't know and when she learns she's going to hate him.

He cannot let her continue to comfort him while he's crying about her boyfriend. It is with that sobering thought that he's able to win his war against whatever he's been injected with and stop his tears. Just in time, too, because Dustin and Erica find them, and then the Russians do, but so does El and the others.

The world is nothing but Upside Down terror for hours.

When the dust settles, Hopper is dead, and so is Billy, and Steve is sat in the back of an ambulance, hugging Robin around her shoulders as they both look out into the parking lot with matching thousand-yard stares. They've been looked over and deemed okay to go home, so Steve is just waiting for the government men currently raiding what is left of the underground Russain bunker to either find his keys, or not.

If his keys are found, he's Robin's ride. If they aren't, they're both being dropped off by ambulance, which Robin is stressing about because her parents cannot see her come home in the back of an ambulance.

Steve offers her to stay at his house. He thinks it'll be easier to beg her parents for forgiveness than explain this situation. Robin agrees to stay if the ambulance ends up being their ride.

It doesn't, though. It takes an hour after everyone else has left, but someone delivers his keys.

It's eerie, the walk from the front lot around the mall to the back employee lot, so they clasp hands to have something to ground to. There are less people the further they walk. The fire's been contained, probably so the government people can root around the bunker below the mall to discover whatever it was the Russians knew, or know, or whatever.

The back lot is completely empty. Only Steve's car, parked towards the edge of the lot give that his shift yesterday had been an afternoon one, and all the closer parking spaces had been taken.

His car is parked so that the passenger side faces them as they approach. Wordlessly, they break apart, Robin heading for her door and Steve rounding the front of the car to get to the driver's side. Except as soon as he rounds the corner, a figure that was previously crouched or sat in front of the door jumps up, lunging at Steve.

He barely has time to register the voice, a terrified sounding "Stevie!" before Steve back tracks with a yelp, out of reach of the figure. Robin screams when he does, and whoever was lunging at him stops in their tracks, whipping around to look at the other source of the noise.

"Robin?"

It's then that Steve takes in the sight before him. It's Eddie. It was Eddie leaning against his door, waiting for him. Steve's flooded with a rush of love, his stupid brain deciding that Eddie must have been worried when Steve didn't meet him for the carnival. Had come to look for him. But then the reality of the situation settles over him.

That might have been true, but now he's seen that Steve is here with his girlfriend and this isn't how he wanted to do this but he will.

For Robin, he will. She deserves better.

"What are you doing here!? Besides scaring the shit out of us!" Robin yells, rounding the car to punch Eddie in the arm.

"Ow, Buckley, what the fuck!" Eddie rubs the spot she punched him, looking between Robin and Steve with... confusion? Steve is expecting to see maybe some remorse, or guilt, or maybe even glee at the fact stupid Steve Harrington was able to be so easily fooled. He doesn't see any of that, though.

Eddie takes a step towards him, and Steve flinches back.

Robin steps up to Eddie, like she wants to pull Eddie into a hug, but he stops her with a hand on her shoulder. He looks from Robin to Steve again, then back to Robin. Steve can't see his face, his hair hides his profile, but he can see Robin's face. Her confusion, brows furrowed, before her eyes go wide and now she's looking between Steve and Eddie.

Fuck. She's just put it together herself! She's going to hate Steve forever, homewreaker that he is.

"Oh. Oh no," Robin whispers, then says Eddie's name in a devastated tone. "Eddie. Is it-?"

"I-I can't... Robin," Eddie says back, sounding just as hurt.

"No! No, I told him- Eddie, I told him we were dating!" she turns to Steve, then, and blurts, "I'm a lesbian!"

He doesn't know what to do with that information. "What?"

"I lied. Steve, I lied, I'm a lying liar and I'm so sorry," Robin says, shoving Eddie away from herself and towards Steve.

Maybe the drugs are still working because Steve still doesn't understand. "I don't... what?"

"I'm not dating Eddie," Robin says. "I've never dated Eddie, would never date Eddie because I don't want to date boys. Please, Steve, I never meant to make you think-" but she cuts herself off, looking from Steve to Eddie and back, before saying, "I never meant to make you think you were unlovable."

Eddie makes a wounded noise at that. "What did you say to him, Buckley!?"

Robin lied. Robin lied about dating a boy. Because she's not interested in boys? That doesn't make sense. That- oh. She lied about having a boyfriend for the same reason he's lied about not having a boyfriend. Because it isn't safe to not to.

Steve's legs give out, but he doesn't hit the pavement because Eddie catches him and the three of them sob and cling to each other in the dark of the parking lot.

Later, much later, the truth will come out. Steve will learn they've always been each other's covers but never actually together. Robin will apologize because she blames herself for Steve's bathroom, drugged-breakdown, and Steve apologizes for all the awful thoughts he had about Eddie when he thought Eddie was dating them both and lying about it.

Steve will learn that Eddie loves him, too, just as much as Steve loves him.

[audliminal]

It's Just a Game, Right? Pt 6

Masterpost

"I'm telling you, Fenton!" Wes announces. "I'm onto you." A few of the kids walking past snicker at them, as Danny does his best to look confused. The startled part is easy; Wes is turning out to be a surprisingly good actor. He's been gradually leaning even harder to the image of a conspiracy nut, and the result is impressive. Danny, on the other hand, is simply trying to keep up with the insanity.

"I have literally no clue what you're talking about, dude." Danny says, attempting to push past Wes, so he can enter their classroom. Wes doesn't seem inclined to let this confrontation end, though.

"You may have everybody else fooled, but I know the truth. You made a pact with the so-called ghosts and their efforts to take over our world. You're just manipulating your parents' tech in order to convince everyone that they actually are ghosts, and not the invading fae army they really are!"

"Dude, what?" Danny responds, not quite able to hold back the laugh.

"Honestly, Wes, don't you have any common sense?" Star asks, as she walks up. "Rumor has it that Fenton's failing like half his classes, and you think a bunch of fae lords, or whatever would trust him to help their scheme? Surely they'd choose someone more competent." She flips her hair, and then walks past the both of them, as a couple of the kids nearest to them start snickering.

Outwardly, Danny winces and hunches in on himself a little more, as he takes the opening Star just created and ducks into the classroom after her.

In hallway outside, Danny catches Wes muttering to himself before following them in. No one says anything for a minute, but the moment the bell rings and Mr Lancer shuts the door, Star turns to Wes.

"I think you should be a writer or something after we get out of here." Star tells him. "That theory was honestly inspired."

"It gets even better. I have so much evidence to force on you guys, it'll be great." Wes answers, then turns to Danny. "You good? I know we don't mean any of it, but it's still gotta suck to have us acting like assholes all the time."

"I mean," Danny hums. "I'm not gonna say it's fun? But like honestly compared to everything else, dissing my work kinda seems..."

"Banal?" Sam offers.

"Yeah, sure, that." Danny nods. "Like, compared to people wanting me dead, who cares, I guess."

"Yikes," Kwan mutters. "Your life is a fucking mess, dude."

"Well, i do have some good news about that." Tucker announces, turning his computer to face everyone else. "Looks like the fanbase is making some progress towards finding the real stuff.

Danny stares at the reddit thread Tucker is on. He's honestly been only loosely paying attention to the actual stuff Tucker and Wes have been posting. He's happy to offer his knowledge of space stuff, or engineering, but the intricacies of secret code aren't really something he ever pursued. Well, except for the secret language he and Tucker had made as kids. Wes, on the other hand, peers at the screen and lets out a soft whoop.

"Hell yeah! They found the second layer!"

"Yeah. Which means they've found our first plea for help."

"Oh, wow," Sam says sardonically. "A plea for help that's so great. Why are they gonna think it's anything other than another part of the damn story."

"Chill out, Sam," Tucker responds. "The point is to encourage them to look harder. And once they find the next level, they'll start finding our info on the infinite realms."

"Whatever," Sam says, frowning. "I just... Don't like how much waiting this involves."

"Yeah it would be a lot easier if we could just, like, beat them up and call it good," Dash agrees. "But, like, jail would probably suck."

"At least they're making progress," Danny points out. "I don't really get how you guys are making these layers, but. It's more progress than anything else we've tried."

"Yeah, but like, what does this mean for us?"

"Why not interact directly with that post?"

"Maybe. We'd have to be extra careful about what and how we say it, so they don't write us off as a copycat or anything, but it could serve to reinforce, uh-" Wes leans in, to read the username. "BenBlues379's theory."

"Okay then, let's draft a reply." Danny zones out as they start to discuss the specifics. He hadn't actually had to go deal with any ghosts last night, but his parents had been working on some new invention, and the noise of their trials had made sure he didn't get much sleep despite the supposed reprieve. Luckily, nobody in this class is going to complain if he takes the opportunity to catch up on the missed shut-eye now, so with one last deep breath, Danny folds himself down onto his and relaxes into sleep, as the sounds of his classmates debating echoes around him.

[s1llydr3amscape]

LET ME OUT

Looks like someone failed the captcha test to many times!

Anyways I always wanted to doodle this specific pose from Toyless' animation why because I can :]

Extras under the cut :

This was the specific screenshot I based the pose off I love hands grabbing head!!! :

The original video ^ (I'll be real with yall I was shocked the original song was poppy playtime because my only experience with it was that all my baby cousins loved that franchise. And they would show me vids off it at family gatherings because I was the babysitter. One of em even debated me abt fnaf like chill out bro you weren't even born when it came out!!!!!)

Glitchtrap rambling time woohoo let's go!!!!

-I redrew em again because I think I'm almost 100% happy with its design!!!! Like I don't wanna change their face so much because the way his face is shaped is my fave!!! Like they have the same style of muzzle as sonic characters!!!!!! I just made it rounder cuz its their early days before this au lore

-I just wanna achieve the unnaturalness with their design. Like they don't belong here. They want to get out. LET HIM OUT. type vibe basically like that's why it has like those kind off teeth instead off the rabbit ones. They get those later in the au.

-I fucking love Glitchtrap so much you don't understand they're so peak!!!!!! I jokingly hate him because I despise what it did to Vanny.

-I was a fan since day 1 bro is just so unique like woah a non animatronic for a change?!?!? STRAIGHT UP A FURSUIT!??!?! Color me impressed!!! I love zooming on it its model and seeing everyy little detail!!! Like omg bro is crying and drooling on the suit!!!!! There's also a patch of uneven stitching pattern on the top of their head compared to their mostly symmetrical design!!!

-I was so fixated on em like my level of obsession for him was bad bad!!!! Like yeah it was still there when Vanny came around during the curse of Dreadbear DLC but you don't understand it surpassed all my Foxy art!!! The first fnaf character I fixated on!?!?? Like what and yall can ask my IRLS bro had lots n lots of art!!!!! I have so much trad art of glitchy it's embarassing!!! Atleast I improved tbh!!

-I just really really loved the fan animations were bro got to time travel to the older fnaf animations and fuck em up!!!! Causing them all to glitch out like hello PEAK!?!?!?! No im not biased to rabbit characters with whiskers shhhhh... SHHH...

-Because I know all those animations already and it's like omg omg OMG Glitchtrap kinda expanded my music taste imma be fr... Fnaf autism is so bad I omfg I only listened to fnaf songs and the only time I listened to other franchises songs is because someone animated fnaf over it... like yeah I was an animation meme kid but even then I only remember the lyrics and titles to songs if I saw fnaf on them (cringe!!!!) So yeah thank u Glitchtrap <33333

-I think Malhare is the cooler name but the Glitchtrap name is cool too because when the names end in trap like this it makes me think they're like warrior cats adjacent. So in this one they just fluctuate between either Malhare or Glitchtrap

-Also another reason he's my super fave is because my brain predicted it's gloop form!!!!

-Like no joke literally the same character I dreamt about during the early days before Princess Quest.

-Except mine was a shadow like the shadow animatronics. More wispy than gloopy. I think the reason I dreamt it was because Shadow Toy Chica and fan made shadow animatronics were getting popular!! But legit same character and colors!!!!!!!

-Just a big dark mass with purple eyes surrounding it like literally the same character my brain came up with and I'm just wow <3333 minus the fact my design had really big giant swirly white eyebrows

-However my Shadow Glitchtrap was kinda more wack to say the least. Like heheheh cuz Glitchtraps a fursuit there's no denying that I changed the dream design a bit. In my old Glitchtrap designs they'd have a zipper and so what would happen was they'd unzip and flip their insides into outsides to reveal the Shadow Glitchtrap thing which was hiding inside them.

-Like those plushies that you can unzip to reveal a different plushie design basically!!!!

-TBH I prefer Glooptrap because yeah!!!!! Amalgamation of hate let's go!!!!!! I think with how gloopy he is its just fun to draw I love the fact that the weird Glitchtrap blockers look like that it fits too much with my own preestablished AU lore.

-I feel like Glitchtrap turns into Glooptrap from like the seams of their suit. Like you see that each part the suit got stitched just turn black as black liquid pours out like ohhh that shit haunted!!!! Bursting outta the seams like oh this guy has no one inside they're all just black sludge!!!!

-In this AU specifically (The one with my millions of Vanny designs) is actually a spoof fnaf AU where everyone lives!!! Like I have 3 AUs technically one of them being the fnaf cast in my oc world where they become my ocs basically called Rabbit City. My other one which is my more serious canon adjacent fnaf AU where no silly stuff or shipping happens, and it's just more overall following my own formed understanding of the canonicity and the series of events with me trying to keep the animatronics more game accurate (I dont think ive posted any of that here due to me feeling like my style limits the nit and grit I wanna go with it). And this one I mainly post on here where everything is just silly and bends to my command and everyone lives because I love everyone <333333 Literally playing with my toys type AU where I do what I want which is why a million vanny designs are in this AU specifically. I usually tag it as this 🦭🩷🐇🐰🐇🐰🐇🐰🐯 because the original name of this au is self indulgent and I'm embarrassed but it's too iconic to change it.

-Glitchtrap in this AU is just much more goofy and silly infecting people like a zombie virus and possessing them for his own gain. Weird eldritch horror that came out of a fnaf fangame. Anything goes in this AU so if I wanna make Glitchtrap a mind controlling zombie warlock wizard so be it!!!! Sorry I love zombies soo much you will have to take this trope out of my cold dead hands!!!!! I love rot!!!

-That's why it's wrinkly because they too me are like a rotten banana (Even though his associated smell to me is lemongrass). Imagine squeezing a banana still with it's skin on. That's how I imagine bro turns into glooptrap if they didn't open the zipper in time. Also because I love the design trope of rotting and withering sue me. I love when the flesh sags across the body. Wrinkles are great bro theyre so real!!!!! Also because back then people kept drawing him as skinny as a twig??? Even though they have fat??? So I made them fatter mostly because like I love the gloop part of it hiding inside <3333

-They're more green pink and purple because imma be real my fave color combo ever <33333

-I wanna do an xray piece with them soon to show their insides but I'm still uncertain if I have the art prowess to concoct it exactly like how I envision it yet. Like I need to squash and scretch them more. They need to look more decrepit and horrible!!!!! something like the unknown from dbd!!!!

-They can't actually emote properly stuck in a permanent smile

-Glithctrap and Vanny’s dynamic is like Lord Hater and Commander Peepers in this one. There's more character adjacent to the dynamic between them concocted in my head but I wanna draw a comic abt it :]

-Like yeah one second they're besties and the next they're at each other's throats ready to strangle eachother. Vanny reluctantly trying to help him at first like how she was first called.

-Oh also in this specific AU Glitchtrap isn't connected to William in the slightest more just it's own thing!!!!

-He's like an AI that wants to be human. It believes it is human. They've mimicked people too much that they don't know what they are anymore. Or what it wants anymore. What do they want.

[crabonfire]

☆ Would merc still like you if merasmus turned you into a worm 🪱 ☆

characters: all mercs

tags: crack but not really I'm taking it kinda seriously, reader has a platonic relationship with the mercs

note: maybe someone's done this before idk I felt compelled to write something tf2 related and this is lowkey all I fucking got lmao

Also this is ridiculously long for a fic that was supposed to be crack so my bad (this was longer actually, but I cut out a bunch of yapping)

●○●○●

• I feel like Scout's first reaction instead of panicking is to curse and threaten Merasmus.

"OUT OF EVERY SHITTY THING YOU COULD'VE DONE, YOU TURNED THEM INTO A FRIGGIN' WORM?!"

• He's yelling, so much to the point where Merasmus just teleports away and ignores it, finding it funny (of course he finds it funny what a dick)

• He realizes that when he was so busy yelling at Merasmus, he had lost you. He panicked, looking around the ground with a horrified frown, cursing to himself as he started to dig, looking closely. When he finally found you, he placed you on his hand with a frown, looking at how you moved against his fingertips. He wanted to cry a little, he really didn't know what to do.

• He's placing you under his hat. Usually he'd find worms or maggots gross as hell, and if he was going to be honest he still found you gross, but it was you, so...

• Then he rushes back to base, the panicked look on his face never leaving him. He alerts all the other mercs, making a huge fuss over how, you're a worm now, and they need to help him get back at merasmus to turn him back.

He's holding you in his palm, and you're just wiggling around like nothing is wrong cause you're a worm now. And the rest of the mercs look at him like he's crazy.

• Spy, Sniper, Medic, and Heavy are convinced he's lying. Demo believes him a little since he's experienced Merasmus' antics. Soldier automatically believes him fully since the worms there, but you're not, so that must be you. Engineer is just trying to keep the peace, trying to calm scout down, but it doesn't work as no one is listening to him.

• The team is skeptical, thinking that this is some elaborate prank and that, you're just out for a couple hours. But when you don't return tomorrow for the fight, or return after, that raises some suspicions on where you are.

• Ms. Pauling doesn't know where you are either. So is it true? Are you really the worm?

• A meeting is held, everyone stands around the rounded table, the light shining down on you. You're in your little wormy home, slithering and worming your way through life, forgetting your identity, eating leaves and sleeping in dirt.

The mercs watch as you're doing your worm thing.

Engineer clears his throat, making the attention go to him. He turns to Scout, and the confusion in his voice is evident as he speaks.

"Scout, you're absolutely positive that, this worm is (y/n)?"

Scout responds with an aggresive nod, the slight panic and frustration shown in his expression.

"I told you, its them! I saw it happen with my own two eyes, Merasmus found em, they got zapped and poof- they're a worm! A freakin' worm!"

• The team continues to look at you, so peaceful, so calm, being a worm. They don't know why, but, now it was much easier to believe him. The worm was just like you, chill and...cool...and awesome...and wow... amazing..

"So...what? They're just a worm now?"

Sniper said, picking up the jar you were in, looking at you curiously.

"I don't think they'll be too happy stuck like that."

Engineer spoke once again, "If they got turned into a worm, there's...probably a way to turn em' back, right?"

• That was enough to bring hope to Scout's mind. Of course! That was it, if he could find Merasmus and maybe force convince him to turn you back, everything would be okay! All his sadness had dissipated, and he was quick to start making plans.

• So they did, the team would go hunting for Merasmus, and make him turn you back. In the meantime, they'd take turns taking care of you.

• Scout liked to hang out with you, pretending like it was just like before, where you and him would sip sodas together and talk about anything and everything. He'd pour some soda in the dirt you were in, not really caring of the consequences and thinking everything was the same with you two. He really missed having someone to talk to, though.

"Man, I hope you can hear me. It'll be like, super fuckin' weird if I've been talking to you and you're not even in there.."

• Pyro wouldn't really see a difference. That sounds mean, but its really nothing personal. Though now that you were a worm, you weren't as scared as them as you usually were. They'd sit you down, with their plushies, having a nice tea party, watching carefully as you'd just slither about as a worm.

• Soldier was...confused. You, who once was a brave and selfless fighter, was now a worm. It fascinated him and scared him at the same time. He'd get awkward around you, wondering if you remembered him. He'd talk to you mostly, sometimes petting you...He'd try to.

"EVEN IF YOU'RE A WORM, YOU'RE STILL STRONG TO ME!"

"...You're still in there aren't you?"

• Demo wouldn't really know what to do with you either. He finds it kinda funny how you got turned into a worm. Unlike Scout or Soldier, he doesn't really panic, knowing you'll probably be fine, worm or not. He does miss having you to talk to, like scout. Sometimes he'd just be in the living room, and you'd be by the table in your little jar. He'd just watch curiously, but wouldn't really do anything.

• Same thing goes for Sniper. He legit doesn't really know what to do or say. But, he is a little afraid that you won't turn back into a person. Unlike Scout, he found that you weren't 100% obnoxious or annoying, someone to have chill conversations with after battle. He'd keep watch over you, letting you sit with him as he's chilling on top of his van. Sometimes he'd even bring you out with him in battles as he's camping out enemies during fights. He always makes sure you're safe, though.

• Heavy really liked you. He found you someone worth talking to, and a solid member of the team, so it was a bit jarring to see you turned into a worm. He'd keep his hopes up, though, talking to you like normal. Sometimes he'd watch you like Demo did, curious about you and your little world. It was weirdly calming, after battles he'd be worn out, and when he'd see you worming your way through leaves and dirt, it relieved him a little.

• Engie was a little off put by it, the same way soldier felt. You're just...a worm now? Huh. He doesn't really know what to say to that. Medic and him share the same thought, and that thought is, are you concious? Are you aware that you're a worm? Or are you mindless?

They can't help but think of it that way, in a practical sense. Medic would have to hide you from archimedes and the rest of his doves, who would love to eat you at any given chance.

Sometimes they'd do tests on you. Nothing painful or dramatic but, tests to see if you're still in there. They're really overthinking it.

Engie likes having you in his workshop late at night, makes him feel less alone when you're just worming. Medic keeps you at a distance, just to make sure he doesn't lose you or, have one of his doves eat you.

• Spy, is, kind of grossed out. Nobody has a close relationship with him. He did have a lot of respect for you, both on and off the battlefield. You were just a decent human being who he found a liking to, now you're...a worm. A gross, slimy worm.

He never let you into his smoking room, actually he never even let you out of your jar. He liked you, respected you, but liked you more as a person.

He feels pity, honestly, and just wants you to either be out of his way, or back to normal.

• When you do eventually turn back into a worm, they're all pretty glad. They all have questions, ranging from "Were you really in there? Like were you- aware?" And then "Was it nice being a worm?"

I'm sure you can tell who's asking which question and such.

○●○●○

this what comic 7 leak does to a person

[dfwbwfbbwfbwf]

The Noldor needed to return to Middle Earth.

This is a long one, so I put it under a Read More thing.

I was looking into the Doom of the Noldor, and why the Valar weren't interested in going after Morgoth after he murdered a guy, and I came across the rather reasonable argument that the Valar could only defeat Morgoth after he put a great deal of his influence into Arda, kind of like a giant One Ring, which would weaken him. Which is all fine and good, I guess.

(Not sure why they couldn't just do what they did in the War of the Powers and evacuate everyone out of Beleriand before sending Tulkas in, as that would be far more responsible than what they actually ended up doing, but I digress.)

So that's it then. The Valar plan to just sit around Valinor, chilling, while Morgoth essentially runs around Beleriand with a can of gasoline and a match. And, based off what I've read, it sounds like they were really just kind of doing nothing until Eärendil and Elwing showed up to buy protection. Or it does take three years to sail from southwest Beleriand to the Bay of Eldamar. (It took Eärendil eight total, and four of them were after Elwing showed up, and it is a long journey; there's a reason the Noldor went as far north as they could in Aman before attempting to sail.)

Here's a map for reference. Credit to Karen Wynn Fonstadt. The Helcaraxë is so tiny!

Anyway, I'm going to give those who stayed in Valinor the benefit of the doubt and assume they spent 5 and a half centuries preparing for war.

(Even though the Noldor were plenty ready for it when they left, considering they annihilated Morgoth's army. Yeah, Fëanor died, but who could expect fire demons of nightmares to show up randomly?)

Sorry. I keep getting into tangents. The Valinorians prepare, get a signal from ... something, and sail across Belaegar to destroy Morgoth and save the Men, Elves, and Dwarves. Happy ever after, and the Flight of the Noldor was completely useless and pointless.

Except it wasn't.

Sure, most of that plan would've still worked as intended, except for the "save Men, Elves, and Dwarves" part. Beleriand would have been an utter wasteland by the time they got there without the Noldor's intervention. Morgoth might have conquered even more. Imagine if he got to Cuiviénen, the far south of Harad, even Hildórien.

"That's impossible, dfwbwfbbwfbwf. Even Morgoth couldn't have mustered up the strength to do that."

But is it impossible? Who would have been there to stop him?

Círdan's Falathrim were nearly exterminated, saved only due to Fëanor's intervention. Denethor died because Fëanor was too late. (By how much, it's unclear, but it happened the same Valerian Year, so maybe a few Sun Years. If Olwë had helped, and Uinen not slowed the Noldor, and Ulmo provided a way across, perhaps Denethor would have lived. But I suppose we'll never know.) Melian guarded Doriath with her Girdle, but Þingollo never sent anyone out to engage with Morgoth; he couldn't, because Doriath didn't stand a snowball's chance in Mordor. What Sindar and Nandor were trapped outside the Girdle were certainly no match for Morgoth's forces. I wouldn't be surprised if Morgoth conquered the entire continent (again, save Doriath, but Doriath is about as concerning to him as a mosquito bite) before Iþil rose for the first time. After all, it took him about 19-20 years to take over half the land, and he had about 27 to take the other half.

I don't imagine Morgoth would go after the Khazad, and I don't see the Khazad going after Morgoth. They'd close their doors to all, and Morgoth wouldn't have to worry about them.

Morgoth would still venture east and corrupt the newly awoken Men, and I think some would repent and travel west to become the Edain, but they would either remain in Middle Earth, or be destroyed and/or corrupted upon reaching Beleriand. There would be no Finrod to greet them, no Dorthonion or Brethil or Dor-Lómin for them to settle and thrive in. There would be no Beren, Dior, Elwing. There would be no Hador, Galdor, Huor, Tuor, Eärendil. No Elrond or Elros.

Morgoth would continue south and east. The Nandor and Avari would likely fall - I think the Silvans would be destroyed or subjugated first, as they probably have a smaller population. And with each civilization Morgoth conquers, he has more potential orcs.

I do think Morgoth would still develop his dragons. He's a reptile dad imo.

By the time the Valinorians arrive in this timeline, there's nothing TO save. Even if they manage to defeat Morgoth, it would take longer. More lives lost. More land sunk.

Do I think the Noldor were the only reason this didn't happen? No, but they were a very big one. Their first attack in the Dagor-nuin-Giliath decimated Morgoth's army, something that took him four and a half centuries to build up enough to fight with again. They guarded Beleriand against the northern menace. They made the continent a safe place for Elf, Man, and Dwarf to thrive, something the "King of Beleriand" couldn't accomplish, and the "King of Elves" Ingwë and "King of Arda" Manwë refused to try.

Do I think the original argument of the Valar waging a war of attrition against Morgoth makes sense? Yes. Do I think their plan would have worked? Depends how you define "worked" - they would have defeated Morgoth, but the cost would be too great. This is why Fëanáro was born: to save Beleriand. And even though he was only on the continent for a short time, he did just that. The Valar should have helped him, but they were, at best, foolish, at worst cowards.

Remember to thank a Fëanárion for your existence today.

... No one is going to read this, and if you did, you're insane. But I guess I'm insane for writing it. Have a cookie and milk. 🍪🥛

[bonefall]

Not sure if this is the place to ask or if I should go to Bonebabble, but ooh, Dungeon Meshi mention! I love what you said about low-empathy and apathy, I think I’ll use that in ny own characters.

I wanted to ask why you think Shuro is autistic. I’ve seen a lot of people say it so there must be a reason why, but I don’t think it’s really obvious to me? Like with Laios, autism/neurodivergence is so integral to his story, so it’s deeply obvious. I love the way he’s written! But we don’t see a lot of Shuro, so I’d like to hear more of why people see the tism in him.

@bonebabbles is the better place to send these in the future but it's chill! The vibe right now's loose since we're all coming down from the heaviness of Mooncourse lmao

Honestly, I feel a little 'tism in a lot of the cast of Dungeon Meshi. As a very autistic writer myself, it kind of has a vibe like it was written by someone who's autistic and so it gets peppered into all of her characters. It's something I notice a lot in my own art, too.

But like, when it comes to Toshiro... I can't stop thinking about him. He makes me want to chew the furniture. With every passing day I become less normal about him.

glossary because I had a lot of thoughts about Toshiro Dungeon Meshi i guess. Oh my god this got long

He reminds me of some people I know

His culture clash is very relatable to me in an autistic way

He has a rigid commitment to his values and morals

Miscellaneous Autism Moments

THE LAIOS FIGHT

in conclusion

He reminds me of some people I know

He reminds me of certain autistic men I've met from affluent families. The type who both is taught to repress and mask their own traits, yet also not to be incredibly mindful of the emotions of other people. Because of their status, they don't have to learn how to work out interpersonal conflict because the majority of the people around them are servants or family. People who would never go away if they didn't like you.

So, his vassals have to learn to talk to him and how to carry out his orders. Not the other way around. As a result, Toshiro has a bit of unearned confidence about his leadership abilities and communication skills. NOT in a way that is smug, DO NOT misunderstand me; just in a way that overestimates his own judgement. Maybe he has encyclopedic knowledge for talking to other nobles offscreen, but when it came to his own team, he was ignoring a lot of the good advice they gave him about taking breaks.

Yes, Toshiro is from a high-context culture-- but his communication issues are bad with everyone.

ESPECIALLY his vassals, people he calls family, from the same exact culture as him. They're worried about him, most of them are desperate for acknowledgement, they'd do anything for him, and he doesn't address this until AFTER his brawl with Laios!

His culture clash is very relatable to me in an autistic way

Toshiro knew he was going somewhere that was going to be a melting pot of mostly western cultures. He knew the manners were going to be different, and he came alone, not in a group where he was only interacting with his own people.

Yet he NEVER adjusted his own social behavior.

I'm American and my partner is British. When I first went, I had no idea why they were offering me so much tea. I thought I was being polite by following them into the kitchen, thinking they wanted to move the conversation over there. My partner quickly fixed this by explaining that when someone offers you tea, they're taking a short pause in the lull of a conversation to be a good host.

I am autistic. What someone else might have just figured out through getting an awkward look, I had to be told directly. There are a lot of little things like that.

Toshiro feels like what would happen if the opposite was happening, an autistic person from a high-context culture coming to a low-context culture. He can't properly express discomfort. It's not JUST Laios, King of Autism, that he's having issues talking to. Neither Marcille nor Chilchuck know that "Shuro" is a mispronunciation, and they had no clue that he disliked Laios THIS much.

I even think it's kinda telling that Toshiro felt the most comfortable with Falin out of the rest of the party. The hyper-empathetic autistic girl who goes out of her way to accommodate others.

He has a rigid commitment to his values and morals

A strict, uncompromising moral compass is a hallmark of autism. It's everything Toshiro does!!

When Falin was eaten, he bolted off to assemble the best team he could think of. He believes that love is sacrifice, so he pushes his body and his family to the limit to try and prove how much he loves Falin. Chilchuck freaks out when he finds out that Laios told him about the dark magic, because "HE'S THE WORST PERSON TO TELL!"

LIKE, YEAH! HE SURE IS!

Maizuru also explains that from a very young age, he's been incredibly compliant. He never asks for anything, he's always been a bit sickly and uninterested in eating. He always tries to be on his very best behavior, even if that means not asking for accommodations he might actually need.

In fact, the only food he seems to LIKE eating is what Maizuru makes him. To the point where she ended up getting pulled into the kitchen even when she was on a "mission." Senshi makes a cute comment that it's "love" that Maizuru puts into those meals, but... what if it's actually because she knows the textures and flavors he likes?

Miscellaneous Autism Moments

There's so many little moments that are so incredibly autistic to me.

He sees Falin with a bug and he proposes right on the spot. The other characters are like, "oh that's just how they act in the east" but no the fuck it is not. They don't even know "Shuro" is a mispronunciation, how the hell do they know anything about eastern courting traditions?

I know EXACTLY what happened. I'm beaming you this information directly from the truth.

Toshiro was TOLD that you're supposed to 1. make your proposals a surprise, and 2. you will know the right one when you see them, and NO ONE elaborated any further because he comes from a high context culture. He popped that question the first time both of those boxes were ticked off.

In coming from a high context culture, what he does is strictly follow rules and conditions he was taught.

And that's absolutely why he handed Laios that bell. Because he does care about him and the party, and he's taught that doing these acts of service is a show of that... and he didn't even think ahead to the fact the bell was going to be ringing constantly.

And yet. In spite of that, he ALWAYS keeps it near him.

Before it clicked and I realized why, I used to think Toshiro was kind of an asshole for running off to get his vassals without even telling Marcille and Laios about his plan. Like... how could you not know they were going to do something drastic? The three of them were the Falin Fan Club and he was the most normal member of it. It's so obvious to me that Laios (brother) and Marcille (""Gal Pal"") were going to get themselves in danger.

So how could you just run off like that without telling them? Even if lack of supplies meant they couldn't go back in, how could you just leave them worried sick in the town, thinking you abandoned Falin?

And then it hit me. The man just has low empathy.

There WAS no malice, just like how there wasn't malice in how he was pushing him and his vassals to the limits, just like how there was never malice against Laios. It simply didn't occur to him like that.

He's never been taught to consider the thoughts and feelings of others very deeply and they don't come naturally. He's still compassionate. There's a reason all of his vassals love him!

But THAT'S WHY he never put himself in Laios' shoes, or anyone else's. Empathy does not come naturally to him. All of his good behavior is as a result of his moral code, NOT empathy.

So with that said, why does he love Falin so much? Aside from the wonderful, positive traits he lists when he's asked? I mean, what's really deep down at the core of why he finds these things so lovely?

Well... Falin and Laios are not all that different from each other, to the point where Toshiro gets gently ribbed in a bonus chapter about how if one of them was a girl, Shuro might have loved Laios instead. He waxes poetic about the ways she's different from most women, how she's not afraid of things like insects, her compassion, her face, her laugh.

These are all things Laios does too (in fact in one of the panels where Toshiro is appreciating Falin, she's trying to check if a caterpillar is a male or female), but Falin's personality expresses in a more subdued and introverted way. Closer to how Toshiro is, as a person. So... I think it's because he relates to her.

To both Touden siblings. But Laios makes him see things he doesn't want to.

THE LAIOS FIGHT

We established that Toshiro has a strict commitment to his values, he probably has low empathy, and even taking his cultural differences into account he's bad at communicating.

So then, why was one of his complaints against Laios' obliviousness that he "knows he doesn't mean anything by it, and that makes it worse"? Isn't that kinda specific when you think about it?

If you're neurodivergent, I want you to think back to points in time where you dealt with people who have the same issues you do. Autism, ADHD, PTSD, DID, whatever. Did you ever have a moment where they did something harmless or mildly inconvenient, definitely as a result of the same exact thing you have, and you just... HATED it?

You HATED it even more than you would anyone else doing the same thing. You probably know your response was disproportionate. But YOU don't do that THING they did. Or if you do that, it's less bad somehow. Or you used to do that but don't anymore and it reminds you of when you did.

If you're reflective, you might have realized it might be internalized ableism. I feel like that's a huge part of why Toshiro finds Laios SO. ANNOYING. Laios is like this stupid, idiot, blundering caricature of things Toshiro has been taught to avoid, which violate his moral code. Shuro comes from a place of so many more rules and subtle cues, and it's like Laios doesn't respect any of them.

What STARTS this fight, causes Laios to finally hit back after being smacked, shoved, and shouted at, is being told "YOU'RE NOT TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY."

It's so obviously wrong! Laios, who ran back into a dungeon immediately? Who Toshiro himself called rash? This is NOT a logical conclusion to make about Laios or his party. I think it came from frustration that Laios "does things the wrong way." That it's projection, stemming from that low empathy.

He's not like Kabru in the same chapter, who's desperately trying to get a read on Laios' inner workings and failing. Shuro's just extrapolating his own feelings onto him, because he's recognizing that same "sense" within him. If TOSHIRO didn't follow the rules he sets down for himself, that's not "taking it seriously."

Toshiro follows the rules. Laios does not.

...and Laios is FREE.

He's open and honest in a way Toshiro can never be, not as a noble, not as an easterner, and not as an autistic man. Hell, Laios was ALSO a noble, he gave that up! Threw that away, and then came back to his village and took Falin away from it. If Laios is acting like an idiot, he's acting like an idiot who does everything Toshiro has ever wanted to do. Laios cannot mask and Toshiro resents that.

One of the things Toshiro even explicitly says he HATES about Laios is the fact he's willing to be a burden on other people. Maizuru said earlier that he's NEVER made a "selfish request" before-- but Laios can just open his mouth and ask for help, feeling no shame, just as he did in this chapter when he asked him not to tell the Island Lord about the dark magic.

And then, after they literally come to blows, Toshiro tells Laios some incredibly brutal things, revealing he's NEVER been his friend and he has resented him this whole time. This actually sits with Laios well into the later chapters, but the fight ends and then they're just CHATTING FRIENDLY LIKE IT DIDN'T MATTER.

More honestly than ever before, because Toshiro is returning the effort. He eats some food (the narrative's metaphor for making connections). He thanks his vassals for the first time. He talks about how he wishes he'd told Falin about all the things he adored about her when he still had the chance.

I have to take the panels of his response right out of the manga actually because this little expression here is so subtle, but so meaningful.

(Read <- <- <- that way)

Look at the way that when Laios makes that genuine movement, assuring him with passion that he will be making sure Falin receives this message, Toshiro's gut response is annoyance. But then it softens and he pauses, like he's reconsidering what his response is going to be.

To admit that he envies "this side of Laios" is also admitting that the earlier fight was based on envy.

Laios was like this the WHOLE time. Making these grand speeches about his plans, what his party's been doing, how Toshiro needs to eat something and take a nap. He's ALWAYS been like this. It was Toshiro's mindset that changed.

In conclusion

Something I really like about Dungeon Meshi is HOW MANY of its characters can be read as autistic. Laios is just the most obvious one, with his special interest in monsters and inability to read social cues being central to the plot. His is a more "well known" expression of autism-- it's rare you get characters whose masking is central to their characters.

But it's really refreshing to see characters like Kabru, Falin, and Toshiro. Autistic people are rare enough in popular media to begin with, but we NEVER get characters whose autism intersects with their trauma, gender, and culture quite like these three.