#he's an error variant
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more bits and pieces of recent art and doodles I like! More being posted coming soon
#sans au#undertale au#bad guy sanses#slasher sans#slashertale#dust sans#mentioned#killer sans#buck sans#oc I've never mentioned here...#A-Sans#epic sans#friends oc#he's an error variant#geno sans#astro sans#mostly ocs..!!!
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i think this really made me realize ive got art block rn cause its horrendous but i wanted to share my vision:
sci sans variants interacting !!!
yeah uh. No clue where i got this idea from its 2 am and i had the urge to draw okay
From left to right (on first panel):
Misconduct belongs to me ( @ask-misconduct )
Electrostatic belongs to @loxleyo7
Sci sans belongs to uh. The community afaik
#...pretty sure i mischaracterized them all too..#which is CRAZY cause one of them is literally mine :sob:#but im forgiving myself for this cause its 2 am and i needed to doodle#doodles#utmv#misconduct sans#sci sans#electrostatic sans#electrostatic#my art#sans aus#sans oc#ut au#undertale multiverse#undertale#undertale au#i know electrostatic is an error variant.. but#hes a sci variant at the same time#right..? right.. please say thats true pelas /lh#LOL#sans au#i mean at least i think he is a sci variant as well#idk ask the creator
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Kind of an odd request but how many aus have you self-inserted into? Could you show us your different pairings?
....I may have to reblog this later with all the pairings. This'll be an endeaver.
#art#my art#digital art#doodle#undertale#self ship#undertale au#by god....#request#im gonna draw these and hate myself after#but to list them#i've got a self insert for...:#undertale. underfell. tsunderswap. species variant. outertale. horrortale. mafiatale. mafiafell. deltarune. dancetale. reapertale.#plus an extra specifically for error sans but he doesnt really have a proper au name does he
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Flower boy <3
#Artnatomy errors included#ID in Alt#Described#Omori#Basil Omori#Omori Basil#Omori game#Omocat#good lord I love this little guy just look at him#also he’s holding sunflowers but my friend reminded me that sunflowers are HUGE so let’s pretend they’re a small variant or something lol
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I m a g i n e. Picture it.
You're a gunslinger. Have been for a long time. Your reputation proceeds you. Sometimes, that's a good thing. Other times, it's your worst enemy. People either sing your praises and cheer as you walk down the street, or you are constantly looking over your shoulder for the malevolent gazes watching you from the dark. There's no in between. One day, you find yourself at a bar. A rundown bar within a dusty town that seems presumably empty, but you can feel the hostility oozing from every dark corner like a bad omen. You try to ignore it, settling down and ordering a shot of your favorite whiskey. You tell yourself to keep your cool, to act as unsuspecting as possible... but to keep a hand poised near your gun at all times. The bar's swing doors slam open. You glance over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow from under the brow of your dark hat. There stands a red panda; so small, it seems like a bad joke. She is wearing clothes reminiscent to yours, but they're too big for her. It's like she borrowed an older sibling's clothes and then strolled out into town, intent on playing with the big kids.
You don't move, just silently watch this red panda clomp into the bar, heading directly toward you. You don't have anything to say; although, at this point, you questioned if you could even come up with something to say.
The red panda struggles and climbs up the stool, excessively grunting and taking far longer than was comfortable to achieve the action. Once she was finally done, she turns to you, slapping an arm on the bar and asks with the most strained, unhinged laughter you have ever heard in your 45 years of life,
"So. Mouthwashing, am I right-?"
I'm s o r r y. This is all my long, unhinged way to say "I wrote a Mouthwashing fix-it fic in the span of a day and half and wanted to tell you guys, but in the most cursed way possible"
Why did I write this cursed lil ramble to say something which could have easily been said in one sentence??
I don't know.
I'm just showing you guys my weird, niche ability to write really cursed stuff but with such misleading language, you can be tricked into thinking I'm n o t writing an elaborate shit post.
I am obsessed with Mouthwashing, man. I relate to Curly so much, so I wrote a one shot where he actually got it right-
Fun fact; writing this fic, I discovered something about myself.
I really like sort of pathetic, blond himbo men who make mistakes, but ultimately mean well and have a heart of gold.
First, it was Asgore, my beloved. <3 Now, Curly has joined him. Something is wrong with me.
W A I T, C R A P. I JUST REALIZED. IN STARDEW, THE PERSON I LATCH ONTO THE MOST IS SAM. HE'S NOT A MIDDLE-AGED, SCRUNKLY MAN LIKE ASGORE OR CURLY YET, BUT HE'S LIKE. THE BABY VERSION. GOD, HELP ME, I AM REALIZING TERRIBLE THINGS ABOUT MYSELF-
#mouthwashing#I have decided#In another life; that's who I would be#I would be the slightly pathetic blond himbo friend who makes mistakes but ultimately means well#I g u e s s I'm that in *this* life#Only I have red hair and I'm a girl instead of a blond; 40 something year old man-#I don't have a type; s h u t u p-#It's just a coincidence that the men I latch onto all seem to be some variant of slightly pathetic but ultimately big sweetheart blond guy#Then there's just E r r o r#Standing in the corner; the black sheep staring at the others with absolutely disgusted confusion#Smh bold of me to assume Error *isn't* a slightly pathetic but ultimately big sweetheart guy#That's how I end up making him tbh#The only difference is bro doesn't have hair and if he did; it wouldn't be blond#G o d; maybe I do have a type-
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i need to draw a scar chart for my dust so i can do them decently consistently but i have this issue called 'i love giving characters so many scars to a point that i cant actually do them consistently'
#like i have a basic map of where i put important ones#i just. make a lot of dust angst n my variant has a lot of scars bcs of that#also they get glowy when he uses a lot of magic bcs (i think its neat) the healing process is influenced by his magic bcs he has too much#u can tell i love dust bcs i love to angst him#i was like this with error for a LONG time but its currently gone to silly guy error n mentally destroyed dust#i just. like him a lot <3#slaps dust u can fit so much hurt/comfort n hurt/no comfort in this bad boy#dust sans#rambles#my headcanons
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2024 art summary!
I'm not tagging all these characters because that would take way too long and I don't really want to
Also to make up for April and May where I didn't draw anything (which I'm not entirely sure is true...), I drew SO MUCH in July with 6/7 pieces (ArtFight), November with 4, and December with 6.
#don’t repost#my art#art#taco art#lmao I'm not tagging these characters#I think this summary is showing my Error obsession...#even though technically Seo isn't Error he's still a variant#so I'm counting it#6 of the drawings have “Error” in them (one Seo)#hmmmm yes yes I am very normal#we don't need to look into it too much
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ROOM FOR RENT
PAIRING: logan howlett x female reader
RATING: explicit (18+) | WORD COUNT: 5.3k
SUMMARY: logan finds a new roommate.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have logan howlett brain rot and i’m not sorry. big smooch to everyone who let me yell about this to them including @eupheme @pedgito @wannab-urs @chaotic-mystery @kedsandtubesocks @undrthelights and @murder-wife 💕
WARNINGS: post deadpool & wolverine, variant!logan howlett, able bodied reader, reader being picked up (enhanced strength babyyyy), roommates to lovers trope, meddlesome pet cat, a splash of canon typical violence - mentions of blood and knife wounds, wade wilson/deadpool appearances, mild angst, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact) - dirty talk, pain kink, biting, pet names, praise kink, oral sex - m & f receiving, a little dacryphilia during a blowjob, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, begging, size kink. if i’ve missed any, please let me know!
LINKS: masterlists | support for palestine
If Logan has to wake up to Wade's constant yapping for the rest of his life, he's going to go insane. Every morning he's jolted awake by Wade singing in the kitchen. When he notices Logan is awake, the singing stops and the one-sided conversation begins and doesn't end until Logan finally gets up from the couch and leaves the apartment with nothing but the clothes on his back.
Today, with some money in his pocket from a few odd jobs he's picked up, he finds solace in a quiet coffee shop. Sat beside a bulletin board, he scans the postings.
Art show, art show, yard sale, job opening, roommate wanted, art show--
Roommate wanted? Logan tears the paper from the pin.
Room for rent in 2 bedroom/1 bathroom apartment. One cat. Laundry on site.
He folds the ad up and stuffs the paper in the pocket of his jacket before gathering his empty coffee cup and tossing it in the trash on the way out the door, an uncharacteristic spring in his step.
Your phone rings with a number you don't recognize. You consider sending it to voicemail, already exhausted from fielding similar calls about your room for rent, but ultimately decide to answer.
"Hello?"
A man clears his throat on the other end of the line before responding with, "This the number for the rental?"
"Yep," you reply. "Were you interested in seeing it or have any questions?"
"How much is it?"
"Your half would be $950.”
"And it's a whole bedroom?"
"As opposed to a half bedroom?" You laugh at your joke but the man remains quiet and you wince. "I mean, yes. It's a whole bedroom."
"I'd like to come see it, if you've got the time."
"Sure, how's this Friday sound?" You suggest. "What's your full name?"
"Why do you need to know that?" The man's tone grows defensive and alarm bells ring in your head.
"Well, I'd like to make sure you're not, like, a wanted criminal or something," you tell him with an awkward laugh. He's quiet and for a moment you think that he may have hung up on you. "Hello?"
"Yeah, 'm still here," he sighs. "Name's Logan Howlett."
"Logan Howlett," you repeat. You give him your name in return, though he doesn't do much but grunt in acknowledgment. "Alright, well, do you have something to write down the address?"
"Just tell me, I'll remember."
After listing off the address, he ends the call with a rough goodbye. You get to work on your personal research, entering his name into a search engine.
No results.
You refresh the page, thinking that must be an error, but the same message appears.
No results.
You try spelling his name differently.
No results.
You set the phone down, anxiety starting to creep up your spine. It's hard to believe that there's absolutely nothing online about this man, who now has your full address, name, and phone number.
A sharp meow shakes you from your thoughts and you find that your cat has taken up residence on your lap, staring at you intently as his tail flicks back and forth. You run your hand over his head, scratching beneath his chin.
"You'll protect me, right?" You ask.
He leaps from your lap and struts away, fluffy tail disappearing down the hall that leads to your bedroom. You sigh.
Hopefully you haven’t just done something stupid.
Logan's attempt to leave the apartment unnoticed does not go as planned. Althea is sitting on the couch, a re-run of a talk show playing loudly, when he tries to make a run for it. He's distracted, watching her too carefully that he doesn't realize Wade has just returned from god-knows-where.
"Whatcha doin', twinkle toes?" Wade asks, startling Logan, who slams into the kitchen table with a curse.
"Fucking hell," Logan curses, rubbing his hip. "When did you get in here?"
Wade shrugs. "Sometime around the start of your 007 impression."
"My what?"
"Nevermind," Wade sighs. "You look snazzy. Got a hot date?"
"No," Logan grunts.
"A cold date, then?"
Logan pinches his nose. "No."
"Well, care to share, sugar plum? What's got you sneaking around like the Black Widow?"
"The who?"
"May she rest in peace," Wade says, tone suddenly somber.
"He's tryin' to move out," Althea chimes in. Wade's mouth drops open in shock.
"You're abandoning us?!" he exclaims. "After all we've been through?"
"Let the man do what he wants," Althea says. "Damn co-dependent freak."
"Harsh," - Wade places a hand over his chest, -"you know I have daddy issues. And mommy issues. And abandonment issues. And--"
"Enough," Logan snaps. "Yes, alright? I'm looking for a new place. I can't sleep on that couch forever."
"Is it because it smells like old people?" Wade whispers, pointing an accusatory finger to Althea, who flips him off.
"Look, this is your universe. Your timeline. Mine is gone and it's time I start making this whole thing less temporary."
Wade tilts his head and places a hand on Logan's shoulder. "My little Wolvie, all grown up," he says, wiping at a fake tear. Logan shoves his hand away, storming past him for the door.
"Remember to smile! Give 'em the ol' razzle dazzle!" Wade shouts as he slams the door behind him.
You pace your small living room and check the stove clock for the hundredth time in the past five minutes. Logan is due to see the apartment and your nerves have gone from a simmer to a full blown boil waiting for the mysterious man with no digital footprint to show up. Your cat is lounging on the windowsill, blissfully unaware of your inner panic.
Three sharp knocks at the door cause your pulse to skyrocket. You take a deep breath before crossing the short distance to the door, pulling it open with a smile.
"Hi! You must be--“
Your greeting dies on your tongue as you take in the man crowding your hallway. He's wearing a leather jacket over a white tank top that stretches tightly across a broad chest and jeans that highlight thick thighs. His dark hair is cut shorter on the sides than on the top of his head, the ends fanning out in a manner that reminds you of a cat's ears and he's sporting an impressively thick beard.
"'m Logan," he says in the same deep voice you heard over the phone, holding a hand out towards you. You slip your palm against his much larger one and you're surprised by how warm his touch is.
"H-hi," you stutter, shaking his hand. You clear your throat. "Sorry, hi. Uh, come on in."
You move aside to let him through the doorway, not missing the fact that his shoulders practically brush the frame as he steps inside. Your apartment opens up directly into the living room and kitchen with a small dining area set in between and you gesture around.
"Well, this is most of it, to be honest. I know it's not much but--"
"It's quiet," Logan interrupts. "Ain't used to quiet."
"Where, uh," -- you twist the hem of your shirt -- "where are you coming from? Exactly?"
"Kind of a long story. Right now I sleep on a couch in a shitty one bedroom apartment shared by an asshole who doesn't shut the fuck up and a blind cocaine addict."
"Oh," you reply, nodding despite your lack of understanding. "Yeah, it's just me here. Well, and Dumpling."
"Dumpling?"
As if summoned by his name, your cat appears, making a swift beeline for the newcomer. He twists around Logan's legs, butting his head against his shins. You bend down, scooping him up in your arms.
"This is Dumpling. He's cute, but he'll knock over any plants so I wouldn't recommend you take up indoor gardening if you decide to live here." Logan eyes Dumpling warily before holding a hand out. Dumpling sniffs his fingers daintily and rubs head against his palm. "I think he likes you."
Logan huffs, the sound close to a laugh, and it makes you smile. He looks up at you and for a moment you forget that you're complete strangers who have just met. He feels inexplicably familiar, his presence comforting, and you're surprised by it.
"Let's look at the bedroom," you finally say, breaking the moment. You turn, heading for the hall and he follows behind you, steps surprisingly light for such a large man. You take him to the last door at the end of the hall and enter the empty room. "This is it. It's kind of small, but all the rooms in New York are pretty much shoe boxes. It's got a closet and access to the fire escape, though.”
"Better than the couch," he says, looking around the room. "You said $950?"
"Plus half of the utilities," you add. He nods.
"Look, I'll be honest. I'm...between jobs right now." He sighs. "And my schedule can be...unpredictable."
"Oh," you mumble. You think about it for a moment. Renting the apartment to Logan would be a risk but...you can't help but notice that exhaustion in his eyes, how it's clear he's trying to get back on his feet in one way or another. "That's okay. We can work something out."
He raises an eyebrow at you. "Really? You sure about that?"
Were you?
"Yeah," you reply. "I'm sure."
Having a roommate is...an adjustment.
Logan is great. He does his dishes in a timely manner, doesn't leave any clothes on the bathroom floor, and even cleans Dumpling's litter box from time to time.
But he drives you insane and it has nothing to do with his qualities as a roommate and everything to do with how unbearably attractive he is. He could be doing the most mundane activity and suddenly you're more turned on than a faucet on full blast. On top of it all, he's surprisingly sweet for such a gruff man.
Currently, you're watching him pour himself a glass of whiskey. You know he's probably preparing to take the drink to his room so that he can have a cigar on the fire escape, but you find yourself wanting his company.
"Logan?" you ask. He looks at you over his shoulder.
"Yeah, bub?"
"Would you...want to watch a movie? With me?"
He turns to fully face you, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of his drink, dark eyes on you over the rim of the glass. You swallow nervously, prepared to retract your offer and hide out in your room for the rest of eternity, but he puts you out of your misery.
"Sure." He comes over to the couch, taking a seat that's a respectable distance away. "What are we watching?"
"Have you seen The Greatest Showman?"
A musical. He's sitting through a goddamn musical.
"You kinda look like that guy," you say from beside him. Logan tilts his head.
"I don't see it."
"It's the bone structure."
"I'm bigger than him." You mumble something under your breath that he doesn't quite catch, though he thinks it sounded suspiciously like yeah, you are. "You say somethin'?"
"Huh?" You shake your head. "No, nope. Didn't say anything."
Logan relaxes against the back of the couch, settling in. You're curled up against the armrest, a blanket covering your legs and your arms wrapped around a throw pillow. You look relaxed, at ease, a stark contrast to how you had been when he first moved in. You spent more of your time hidden in your room and he's happy to see you're getting more comfortable around him.
It's also torture. You're like a drug that he can't get enough of, a high that doesn't last long enough. He clings desperately to every smile you grace him with and falls asleep with the sound of your voice echoing in his head. He wakes up looking forward to seeing you, even if it's just in passing before you head out for your very normal job as part of your very normal life.
That's what gives him pause. You're not like him, not built for violence, and he would never drag you into that life. He thinks about Vanessa and Wade and the wedge that was driven between them they're working to repair and he can't bear the thought of having you just to lose you.
Logan's so lost in his own thoughts he doesn't realize that the movie has ended and you haven't moved. Your head is angled in a way that has to be uncomfortable, your mouth dropped open as you breathe slowly and deeply. He grabs the remote from the coffee table and turns the TV off, plunging the room into darkness as he stands and quietly approaches you.
He slides one arm beneath your knees and using the other to support your back, lifts you from the couch. You settle your head against his chest but otherwise your sleep remains undisturbed as he carries you down the hall into your room.
It's not the first time he's been in your personal space. One time he woke up to Dumpling clawing at his chest and he marched the animal back to your room for the night, barging in on you while you had been up reading. He remembers the queen sized bed in a wooden frame and a dresser with a drawer that won't shut take up most of the space, the plain white of your walls replaced by a soft blue. You've installed what he first thought were regular shelves but later learned are meant for Dumpling to use for late night acrobatics that he can sometimes hear from his room.
Logan sets you gently on your bed and pulls the quilt up to your shoulders. Before he can think better of it, he reaches a hand toward your face, tracing his thumb over the high point of your cheek. You turn towards the sensation, chasing his touch, and his chest grows tight. He sighs, stepping back and turning for the door.
Dumpling sits in the doorway, flicking his tail. Logan steps around him into the hallway, the cat's gaze following him.
"Shut up," he whispers.
Dumpling meows in return.
You're disoriented when you wake the next morning. The last thing you remember is being on the couch with Logan and watching The Greatest Showman, but somehow you've ended up in your room. You turn over in bed to find Dumpling on your other pillow, curled in a ball.
"Morning, Dumpy," you murmur, scratching his head. "How'd we end up here?"
Dumpling blinks unhelpfully at you before uncurling from his spot and hopping from the bed, leaving through your open door. It's then that you notice that you can hear grunting noises coming from the living room.
You get up to investigate and stop dead in your tracks, mouth dropping open when you find the source of the noise is a shirtless Logan doing push ups on the living room floor. The broad muscles of his back ripple with each movement, each push accompanied by a small grunt that makes your thighs clench together, imagining him making that noise when--
Logan stops, jumping to his feet and you shake your head free of the salacious image it began to create. He turns, giving you an uninhibited view of his thick chest that's covered in dark hair that trails down over defined abs before disappearing beneath the elastic of his sweatpants. You have to say something, anything, but your brain is full of static, unable to operate when he's standing there looking like that.
"Morning," he says.
"Good morning!" you reply, voice pitched higher than usual. You walk past him in a way you hope is casual, heading for the kitchen and prepping the coffee machine. "You got any plans today?"
"Got a friend who needs my help with something. Don't know when I'll be back." His voice is much closer than you expected and you turn from the counter to find him right behind you, a scant few inches of space between your bodies.
"Oh?" you whisper, keeping your gaze firmly on his face. "Is everything okay?"
"It will be."
He drifts impossibly closer, chest nearly brushing yours. Your heart pounds in your chest, a frantic rhythm that's become familiar ever since Logan entered your life. Reaching above your head, he grabs two mugs in one large hand, setting them on the counter behind you before taking a step back and turning to head for his room without another glance in your direction.
You sag against the counter, a wave of lust addled adrenaline crashing over you and leaving you breathless. The last thing you need to be doing is getting involved with your roommate, no matter how tempting he may be.
Dumpling jumps up on the counter beside the coffee pot and stares at you, likely waiting for food, but it feels more like judgment in his green eyes.
"Shut up," you whisper to him.
Dumpling meows, batting you with a paw.
You're sitting on the couch when there's an unexpected knock at your door. Logan is still gone, helping a friend and you're not expecting anyone, so you’re not sure who it could be. You check the peephole before opening the door and see the distorted image of a man in a red suit and mask supporting the weight of your roommate against his side.
"What the fuck?" you ask as you open the door in a panicked rush. The masked man waves his fingers at you.
"Hi there! I've got a very," -- he grunts, adjusting his grip on Logan -- "heavy delivery."
Logan's eyes are closed, head flopped back on the masked man's shoulder. Blood stains his t-shirt in spots that look suspiciously like knife wounds and you gasp.
"What happened to him?!" you shout. "Oh my god, he needs to go to the hospital--"
"He just needs a little power nap," the man says. "I'm Wade, by the way. You mind if I just--"
Wade drags Logan through the apartment, depositing him on your couch with a huff, wiping his hands together. He looks around and you're shocked when the eyes of the mask seem to move, as if mimicking his facial expressions.
"This is a nice place," he says. Dumpling meows and Wade gasps. "You have a cat?! I wish I could pet you, sweet kitty, but Dogpool would put me in the dog house. Ha! Get it?"
"I'm confused," you manage to say. "My roommate is bleeding out on my couch after being dropped off by some wanna-be Avenger--"
"Ouch!"
"And you're saying he doesn't need to go to the emergency room?"
"Nope." Wade lifts Logan's shirt. "See? Good as new."
Despite the blood and tears on his shirt, there's no wounds on Logan's body. He shifts, lifting an arm to smack Wade's hand away as he groans, eyes fluttering open. He glares at the man.
"Get out," he growls.
"Now, now, that's not being a very good host, Logi. What, were you raised by wolves?" Wade replies. Logan roars, a ferocious sound that's more animal than man. His hand curls into a fist and sharp metal blades extend from between his knuckles. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving, no need for the murder mittens." Wade looks at you. "You should come to Sunday dinner!"
"Wilson!" Logan shouts. Wade finally heeds the man's warnings, rushing for the door without another word, shutting it behind him. Logan sags against the couch, blades retracting into his hand. He tilts his head back, closing his eyes.
You stand there in shock, trying to make sense of everything you just witnessed. Logan should be halfway to dead by now, but he doesn't even have a scratch on him. He has claws. How does he have claws?
"Can hear you thinking," Logan says, eyes still shut. "Just say it."
"Say what?" you ask. He lifts his head.
"Tell me to get out, scream, whatever it is."
You sit down on the couch, facing him. "Why would I do that?"
"Because that's what you should be doing."
His hand rests on his thigh and you reach for it, lifting it to eye level for a closer look at his knuckles. You trace your thumb over the smooth skin, up over his strong forearm. He watches you, face almost pained.
"I'm not scared of you," you whisper. "You wouldn't hurt me."
"But I could," he bites back.
"You won't." You're certain of that. You set his hand back on his thigh and stand from the couch, intending to grab him a glass of water from the kitchen, but he stops you with a hand around your wrist. His grip is loose enough that you could break free, but you don't.
Logan looks up at you with an unreadable expression, something close to fear mixed with a conflicting emotion that you think -- or hope -- might be desire. He tugs your wrist, bringing you to stand between his legs.
"How can you be so sure?" he asks.
You place your hand on his cheek, the coarse hair of his beard scratching at your palm. His eyelids flutter and his lips part on a sharp inhale.
"You're a good man, Logan Howlett," you murmur. He closes his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath.
His next movements are quick -- a hand on the back of your thigh, dragging you onto his lap, the other wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you close, his lips capturing yours in a savage kiss. You melt into him, meeting his urgency with your own desperation, tongues tangling together and fighting for dominance.
You pull back to trail kisses across his jaw until you reach his neck, sinking your teeth into the tan skin, just over his hammering pulse. Logan groans, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, pulling you tightly against him as his hips buck into yours.
"Fuck," Logan says, voice a deep rumble that you feel to your marrow. "Do that again."
"Do what?" you tease.
"Bite me," he demands. "Make it hurt."
You obey, biting down into his shoulder with greater effort, sinking your teeth in deep until he hisses from the pain of it and you let go, lifting your head to look at the mark you've left behind. It fades quickly, disappearing without a trace.
"Jesus," he says, pulling you in for another kiss, slow and deep, as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "Let me see you."
You allow him to lift your shirt up and over your head, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. His touch makes you shiver despite the heat of his hands as he traces the curve of your waist up to your chest, his thumbs finding your nipples and teasing them with slow circles. You drop your head back with a moan and he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, your collarbone, moving down until his lips wrap around one taut bud.
"Logan," you whine, digging your fingers into his hair and holding tight. He hums, the sensation making your eyes roll.
"Thought about this," he murmurs, switching to your other breast. "Every time you'd wear those goddamn tight shirts of yours."
"Really?"
"Mhm."
"Wanna know what I thought about?" You tug his hair, pulling his head away from your chest. "Sucking your cock."
He raises his eyebrow at you and you take the opportunity to slide from his lap, settling on your knees between his spread thighs. You work his belt loose, followed by the fly of his jeans. He reaches past the waistband to free his cock and your mouth waters at the sight. You could tell he was big while you were on his lap, but he's even more glorious than you imagined. Thick, long, with prominent veins and a slight upward curve that you know will hit all the right places.
You take him in your hand, appreciating the weight of him in your palm as you hold him steady. With your eyes locked on his face, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue to lick from the top of your fingers to the flushed head. He groans, his hand curling into a fist that he presses to his forehead.
"Fuck," Logan hisses. You do it again, this time swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him into your mouth, moving down his length slowly. "God, look at you. Mouth stuffed so full you're drooling, huh?"
He's right. Spit gathers at the corners of your lips and runs down your chin as you use your mouth to pleasure him. The sounds he makes above you are downright filthy, deep moans and filthy praise that have you moving faster, taking him deeper, working to get as much of him in your mouth as you manage without gagging. He cups your cheek with one large palm, thumb tracing your stretched lips.
"Keep going, sweetheart. You can take a little more, can't you? That's it," he says. Tears burn your cheeks with the effort to obey, your throat tightening around the head of his cock. "Fuck, that's a good girl."
You breathe deeply through your nose, maintaining a steady pace and using your hand in tandem with your mouth for what you can't easily take. Logan's hips begin to flex beneath you, his words trailing off into guttural growls. His cock twitches in your grasp and he moans your name before his release floods your mouth and you swallow it down.
You pull off of him with a slick pop, gasping for breath. Before you can say anything, Logan is hauling you to your feet as he stands from the couch, lifting you up with one strong arm beneath your ass and urging your legs around his waist.
"What are you doing?" you ask.
"Just getting started."
Logan kicks the door open to your room, startling Dumpling from his perch. The cat races out the door, disappearing into the living area as the door clicks shut. He sets you down on your bed and quickly rids himself of his boots and rest of his clothing before returning his attention to you.
You're lying there in your little sleep shorts that drive him nuts. The fabric barely covers your ass and there's been more than one occasion where he's shuffled into the kitchen in the mornings to see you in them, all the blood in his body rushing south at the sight. He joins you on the bed, on his knees between your spread thighs, and extends a single claw. Your eyes widen, but you don't pull away. In fact, you start squirming, hips flexing minutely against the mattress.
"Scared yet?" he asks.
"I wouldn't say that.”
He carefully slips the blade beneath the hem of your shorts, inching it up until it peeks out above the elastic waistband before twisting his wrist and slicing through the fabric like it's nothing. Claw retracted, he removes your ruined shorts and takes a moment to appreciate the vision you make, legs spread wide and your dripping pussy on display.
"You're a mess," he says, smoothing his hands over the soft skin of your legs. He lifts one of your knees, pressing a kiss to the inside of it before resting it on his shoulder. "Gonna clean you up."
Logan dips his head to your center, dragging his tongue through your soaked sex, groaning when the taste of you blooms across his tongue. Your fingers curl against his scalp, a sharp point of pleasure-pain as he explores your body. He swirls his tongue over your clit, experimenting with broad circles and sharp flicks until you're writhing beneath him.
"Logan," you cry, hips bucking against his face. He dips his tongue into your cunt, nose brushing your clit as he does, and he hums in satisfaction as your thighs tense around his head.
He looks up at you and drinks in the picture you make, gorgeous skin glistening with sweat and your back arched from the bed, chest heaving with desperate breaths. He wants this exact moment burned into his memory, certain it could chase away the dark shadows that linger there.
Logan presses two fingers to your hole, sliding them in with little resistance. You're so warm and tight, squeezing his fingers beautifully, calling out his name as he curls them when he drags them from your body.
"I'm going to come," you gasp. "Oh, fuck, just like that!"
You pulse around his fingers and he slows his movements to work you through it until you collapse against the mattress with a deep sigh. He carefully removes his hand and sits up on his knees.
"Guess I made more of a mess," Logan says. Your eyes squeeze shut with a breathless giggle.
"I'll forgive you," you reply. You reach your arms up for him and he moves to hover over you to accept your embrace. "God, Logan," you murmur, tilting your chin up to kiss him.
In this position, he's able to drag his cock through the slick mess between your thighs and you shiver beneath him, gasping into his mouth. He does it again, more purposeful this time and it drags a moan from you both.
"Please," you murmur.
"Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want," he replies. "What you need."
"Need you to fuck me."
Logan reaches between your bodies and positions the thick head of his cock at your entrance, pushing forward. The stretch of him is unreal, almost too much even with how wet you are for him.
"Relax," he says, holding himself steady above you. "You can take it."
You nod and he pushes forward another inch, letting you adjust, and repeating the process until the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickles your sensitive skin. You've never been so full, no other experience compares to this. No other man compares to Logan, in any way.
He starts moving slowly, dragging his hips back until you're nearly empty before plunging back inside. Each thrust puts stars in your vision, makes the knot of want and need coil tighter in your lower belly, until you're moaning his name and begging him to move faster, harder, deeper.
Logan obeys, thrusting into you with enough force that your head board collides with the wall. He sits back on heels, dragging you up with him until you're sitting in his lap and he's able to thrust up into you.
"Feel so fucking good," he says, lips against your neck. "Need you to come for me, baby."
You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him close, meeting each of his thrusts with a rock of your hips that drags your clit against him, your nerves buzzing with the friction and fullness. While the orgasm he wrenched from you with his mouth felt like a wildfire, this one builds and builds, a wave cresting until it finally crashes and you cry out his name.
Logan leans forward to drop you back onto the bed, reaching a hand up to grip your headboard as he continues to roll his hips into yours, chasing his own release. His thrusts begin to grow more desperate until he presses in deep and you're flooded with warmth as he growls, long and low. The sound of splintering wood breaks through your post-orgasmic haze and you tilt your head back to find that his claws have extended through your headboard, splitting the wood and embedding into the drywall.
"I can fix that," Logan says breathlessly, tugging his hand free, claws retracting. You grin at him.
"Later," you reply, pulling him in for a kiss.
You've got better things to do right now.
Thank you so much for reading! For more of my writing, check out my masterlists!
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett x female reader#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett fanfic#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fluff#logan howlett fic
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#sans au#undertale au#bad guy sanses#sans oc#error sans#cross sans#not a shipkid! he's if cross was/became an error variant#he has lore...#no full ref yet! just been doodling as im inspired to#the other error in the comic is my friends oc#he's if epic was/became a error variant#and ahhaha...its toxic yaoi
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This is a fully updated version of Tear's info sheet. It's advised to be read only after reading the 'Passing Ghost' comic, as it contains heavy spoilers.
__________________
Biography:
Tear!Sans is a puppet body possessed by a Napstablook whose greatest wish was to become Sans and see the multiverse. He created his body from mix and matching puppets made by Error!Sans. This angered Error so much that in his outrage he happens to glitch Tear into a corrupted Underfell AU variant with a missing Sans file.
Tear’s forced, glitched entry allows the Underfell AU to act in self-preservation and use glitches to save itself from corruption. It adopts Tear!Sans as its original Sans, renaming itself to Undertear. If Tear!Sans dies and there is a RESET, he comes back like other monsters. However, it also causes Tear’s original AU to be corrupted instead due to Tear’s absence. The memories the residents have of Underfell!Sans get replaced by Tear!Sans, although not perfectly.
Appearance:
Because Tear’s body is a puppet, his bones are plush and have visible stitches. He wears white gloves to hide stitches, but his forehead has the most obvious line of them. He also wears Napstablook shaped headphones and a white coat with a purple hood. Its backside has a pattern of two tear drops forming an upside-down heart. Underneath it is a beige scarf, white shirt and black shorts.
Story:
Tear’s AU got a lot of Sans variant visitors that he observed from afar. Through observation he learns of the multiverse and wishes to experience it. Even wishing to be like Sans, to feel as loved, important and blend in with the multiverse travelers.
An opportunity presents itself to Tear when Error appears in their AU. They go through the portal Error created, to see the ‘AU’ on the other side. Instead, they find themselves in the antivoid with Error’s puppets. They proceed to mix and match the puppets in order to create a new body for themselves.
Upon his return, Error is infuriated at his work being destroyed. In their rage they attack Tear, only to end up crashing and glitching Tear to a corrupted Underfell AU variant instead. Said AU slowly patches itself up, using the same glitches Tear came there with. Changing bits of its resident’s codes, as well as its own. On their arrival to Underfell, Tear encounters a glitchy Papyrus that seems to have confused them for his brother who went missing. Not able to get a word in, they get dragged back ‘home’ with him.
In the meantime, Error manages to find where Tear went, planning to eliminate them out of anger, as well as before more timelines and AUs have a chance to exist. Unfortunately, the AU adopts Tear as its original Sans and changes its name to Undertear. With this action and thanks to creators, more AUs with Tear variants come to be. Error stops himself.
He settles on observing the AU's code for a while, before destroying the newly formed Undertear. However, after calming down from his initial infuriated reaction, he felt hesitation. Tear is made of his materials, HIS puppets. He is worried destroying Tear will destroy his stuff that he wants back. It ends up making him feel frustrated instead. After getting rid of Tear's original AU, as it's now corrupted due to their absence, Error goes on a streak of destroying different AU's with Tear’s variants. Error hates Tear for what they did. He steals the chocolates from Undertear too, out of spite (it's created from Underfell after all). This is why Tear never has chocolate at home. Tear assumes it's Papyrus eating them, so they stock up for Papyrus. Error tells himself he will eventually get rid of the anomaly that ruined his puppets, but it never happens.
The memories the AU residents have of Underfell Sans get replaced by Tear, although not perfectly. Monsters exhibit the recollection of some smaller traits (like the clothing aesthetic). Papyrus recollects the most, yet lives in stubborn belief that Tear is their brother. They got occasionally questioned by others if they are truly related since Tear is a plush. He was quick to shut everyone up. Papyrus believes his life memories cannot be wrong. It doesn’t matter what their brother is made of, he was there with them for as long as he remembers.
Tear ends up living his life as a play-pretend, replacement for Underfell Sans. Unaware his original AU is gone and unable to leave Undertear.
Personality:
Tear used to naively believe that everyone is good hearted and tried to be polite even in situations he shouldn’t.
He soon learns of the multiverse and wishes to experience it. Even wishing to become Sans himself, so he would feel important, loved and blend in more with the multiverse travelers.
But with the environment of the new AU he got stuck in, as well as the chain of events that got him there, he learns not everyone is sunshine and rainbows. Tear is quick to learn the infamous “kill or be killed” motto of his new home and becomes more jumpy, careful of any signs of hostility. This made him more nervous of new faces than he already is.
Tear spends much of his time training to behave like Sans, failing at making good puns and stressing over not being lazy enough for Sans standards. He works too hard to be one, believing it would give him everything he wanted and make him survive the new world. After all, Sans surely blends into crowds with ease. They saw it with their own eyes. Tear also goes as far as using a great deal of effort into shaping his tears to be gaster blasters and bones. It hinders his speed, although even with this he is as fast as classic Sans, but fails at matching him in damage output. Most of the time he feels like he isn’t good enough, both as his old self and Sans. The new life makes him believe it’s his responsibility to do everything Sans took care of and he decides to stay till real Sans returns. Tear tends to blame himself for everything and does not acknowledge himself as a full Sans. It comes from the fact their bones are plush and have sewing stitches, his lack of confidence making him believe he ‘didn’t study enough’ to become one, failing to match some of the memories Papyrus seems to have of a Sans that Tear never met or saw, as well as the fact he is a play pretend replacement for someone. It has caused him to not fuse with his body yet.
Even though Tear felt abandoned by family and friends in their original AU, now they truly had no one. They were alone. Everyone here seemed so cold, cruel and even harder to approach.
Underfell/Undertear Papyrus becomes Tear’s only shelter from the outside world and Tear starts to grow attached over the course of time. Papyrus ends up being the only monster that truly cares for them, wants them safe and Tear is very hungry for any form of comfort. Even hugs make him REALLY happy. As a ghost, he felt very touch starved. Papyrus even adapts himself to look out for Tear better, seeing as he was unable to get ‘his brother back in shape’. Tear finally feels like he has someone that won’t leave him. He is finally important enough like Sans.
More than anything, Tear fears being abandoned again and this fear resurfaces in a way bigger wave. Tear believes if the real Sans returned, he would be abandoned and become someone forgotten and tossed aside. Likely dusting at the hands of another monster, if not Papyrus himself. More than anything, Tear fears Papyrus learning he is just a pretender, a replacement. This constant fear pulses through him, not letting him accept himself. Tear starts hoping Underfell!Sans doesn’t return and it makes them feel more guilt.
Tear would never leave his body, even if he sank at the bottom of the ocean. He also does not slip up by not shaping his attacks either. In Tear’s eyes, he cannot afford Papyrus or anyone that could tell Papyrus knowing he is a ghost. If Papy is gone… Tear has nothing and no one. He starts pretending to be ‘a perfect Sans’ at this point just to not lose him.
Knowing he does not truly belong, makes Tear feel detached from everyone.
Sometimes he will stand outside invisible, watching everything move without him, no one noticing them and everything passing him by.
Tear in general phases/goes invisible a lot, as means of escaping certain encounters or situations.
Abilities:
- Tears: When Tear!Sans cries, his tears hurt anyone on contact. Tear’s vision also gets watery.
- Shaping tears: Tear!Sans often controls his tears to take a certain shape like his top hat, but usually gaster blasters and bones in hopes of mimicking Sans. Such objects cannot be held by anyone else, as they would take damage.
- Phasing: Tear!Sans can will his body to phase through things, just like when he was a ghost. His body gets more transparent or straight up invisible. Their magic/tears remain visible. Unlike his ghost self, phasing requires magic this time. When too emotionally overwhelmed, he will unintentionally phase. Phasing gives him invulnerability, but he cannot attack during it.
- Ghostly sight: If Tear!Sans had a strong connection with a monster that died, he can see them as a spirit. This only happens if the spirit decides to stay before passing on. In a genocide route, Papyrus is temporarily one of them. He is just a presence that can communicate with Tear, be seen only by Tear and do nothing more.
In battle:
Tear's strength is on par with Classic Sans. He doesn't hit as hard, yet keeps up by attacking faster. He, however, loses the extra speed by shaping his attacks. Because he always holds back by doing so, he is overall weaker. His boss fight is also shorter because of him spending a lot of magic uncontrollably, before and during the fight. A lot of Tear’s magic is spent on day to day occurrences where he cries and phases. Tear’s magic reserves are never full unless they just slept/ate.
-Tear shares the same stats as Napstablook (HP 88, ATK 10, DEF 10).
-Due to mimicking Sans by resting frequently, Tear overcaps his base stat HP by 10. (like player does by sleeping in the inn)
-Tear is worse at dodging than classic Sans.
-Tear does not act as a ‘judge’ for the player.
-Unlike a Classic Sans or Underfell/Undertear Papyrus, Tear has no recollection of RELOADs and RESETs
-Tear cannot use blue attacks, do damage via karma points like Sans (damage overtime), shortcut and travel AUs on their own.
-Tear’s magic dissipates inside a body of water. Paired with the fact he doesn’t know how to swim and can’t shortcut, it’s his biggest weakness.
Genocide route:
The first time Player attempts Genocide route, they are forced to RESET in the judgement hall. Tear did not fuse with his body and as such cannot be harmed by physical attacks. Not killing Tear, as they are this world’s ‘Sans’, drops the genocide route.
On a RESET the Player instead focuses on dealing with Tear’s insecurities. Although it takes excruciatingly long, Tear eventually ends up fusing with his body. They inform the Player of finally accepting themselves fully for the way they are. Thanking them via cell phone. This makes the Player finally continue dusting monsters on sight.
Having not witnessed the fight itself, Tear arrives at the sight of Papyrus dusting in front of the human. He runs away in fear, to hide. Tear can be found again, crying in the judgment hall while hiding behind a pillar and flooding the place in tears.
Player has to mind their step. Tear’s ability lets him see Papyrus’s spirit in front of him and he is the only reason they don’t have an emotional breakdown just from seeing the Player walk in. Papyrus is there solely to keep his emotions at bay, so Tear would waste less magic in the fight on crying and phasing in unintended moments. It only stalls the inevitable and his emotions still flare up. Tear is never the one that initiates the battle. Player does. First knife slash is free, Tear doesn’t dodge. He has never perceived knives as a weapon due to prior physical immunity. Having just fused, he held no fear of any item that could be considered a weapon. He screams out in pain.
Battle starts with Tear shaping his attacks into bones and gaster blasters. The more desperate and terrified he grows, the more he phases and cries on top of the already launched attacks, making it harder to dodge. Tear weeps out loud to Papyrus of how scared he is through the whole fight. His attack speed boosts, as he eventually stops shaping attacks. The battle is over when his magic is completely spent, leaving them defenseless.
Neutral route:
Neutral route is more brutal on Tear then genocide, if Papyrus is killed and they fuse with their body. Tear still runs away at the sight of Papyrus dusting and can be found crying in the judgment hall. This time Papyrus's spirit isn't there, as he has deemed his brother won't need to fight the Player. Because Tear isn't aggressive to the human and never starts fights. Papyrus saw his own death as just another 'kill or be killed' moment.
Without Papyrus there to calm Tear, Tear spends a lot of his magic having an emotional breakdown, crying and phasing, from just seeing the Player walk in. If battle with Tear is initiated, he only survives two turns before his magic is completely spent. In those two turns, Tear doesn't shape his attacks. There is more excess magic going wild.
Without killing Papyrus, the Player can fight Tear at full strength. Tear won’t be hiding or having an emotional breakdown. However, they never stop shaping their attacks. The fight ends up just as long as Classic’s.
Pacifist route:
Player focuses on defying the ‘kill or be killed’ mentality of underground monsters. Helping them see the world in a different light. Papyrus is easier to ‘convert’ because of Tear.
The Player doesn’t end up focusing on Tear, as they aren’t aggressive to them like others. Due to it, Tear doesn’t fuse with his body.
Relationships:
- Underfell!Papyrus / Undertear!Papyrus: Tear’s non-biological brother. Papyrus is convinced Tear and him are truly related. Plush body doesn’t deter him, as he ‘knows’ what his memories are. When he finds Tear, he sees his brother has lost his prior edge. Tear’s ‘new softness’ is a dangerous thing to have in this world. Papyrus tries to help but it does not seem to fix the problem. He then adapts for his brother, keeping an eye on them more to keep them safe.
Trivia:
-Tear’s name has a double meaning. ‘To shed a tear’ and ‘tear something apart’. Different characters will say their name differently, depending on the personal opinion of them.
- He is very soft to hug.
- He is very light and his steps leave no sound.
- His favorite food are Blueberries, or as he calls them, Boo Berries.
- He occasionally calls the Player by a pet name “treasure”.
- Tear slightly hides behind Papyrus when seeing new faces.
- He gets excited at seeing any Sans or Papyrus, no matter how they look.
- Used pronouns are He/They.
- When terrified, Tear can unintentionally water blast the person through his eye sockets.
- If UF!Papyrus was to realize Tear isn’t his real brother and was to confront them angrily, much to his horror, Tear’s soul would break on its own from lack of hope.
#utmv#utmv oc#ut au#tear sans#undertear#undertale#undertale au#undertale multiverse#napstablook sans#eriscary art
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sci error variant i am working on . he picked up the name electrostatic because of the static shock you receive when coming into contact with him . nyan : 3
edit ( 6 / 6 ) :
i changed some things about him , like his underlying outfit . if anyone wants to tweak his facial feature colors ( or anything else for fun ) then be my guest , i know something is off about them but for the life of me i can not tell what .
( i do want his one eye to be white / gray , he is partially blind : 3 )
#utmv#undertale#undertale au#doodle#error sans#error variants#fatal error#fatal error sans#blueberror#blooper#do people call blueberror ebb now ?#glitches#glitch#electrostatic#error sci
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Every Universe (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)
A/N: This was written while I was slightly intoxicated, I regret nothing though and hope you guys enjoy it. It was proofread but I cannot say there will be no grammatical errors. Regardless, please enjoy!! :) Also, takes place in the Deadpool and Wolverine universe.
Word Count: 4,158 (this bitch is long, for me at least)
Warnings: None really unless you count angst and fluff as well as the mention of butt stuff
Finding out that not falling in love with a man being the sole reason you were sent to the void seemed like a pretty patriarchal reason to essentially be damned but who were you to question the TVA.
The day you were sent to the void you’d seen the news, MULTIPLE CASUALTIES AFTER ATTACK AT XAVIER’S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS, names such as Jean Grey, Marie D’Ancanto, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy, and Logan Howlett were read out by the heartbroken looking anchor.
Being a mutant yourself, the news stung and left a pit of anxiety in your stomach. It was an attack by an anti-mutant terrorist group, if they were bold enough to attack the home of Charles Xavier, why not a shopping mall next, or another school full of mutant and non-mutant children alike.
Only minutes after the newscast on the tragedy started four rectangular, orange portals opened in front of and behind you. Four men dressed in odd looking military uniforms stalked towards you. You didn’t even have time to attempt to fend them off before they grabbed you, holding you down while you attempted to break free but even with your mutation, they were too strong.
All you remembered was one of them placing some weird stick against your stomach and you screamed as you essentially dissolved into nothing.
When you woke you were found by who you now knew as Blade, and were told you were in the Void, where you would stay until you died or were killed by a fellow member of said Void.
You’d been there for a what you thought was probably a few years when a couple of Deadpool and Wolverine variants were found by Laura in an absolutely fucked Honda Odyssey. She brought them there and Gambit and Blade brought them inside and laid them down. They appeared as if they’d just had a horrific fight or the most violent sexual encounter ever.
The Wolverine variant was the first to wake up, quite literally shooting up into a sitting position while breathing heavily. His claws extended quickly from his knuckles, and he made an almost animalistic sound.
“Easy there killer,” you almost teased, holding up your hands, you’d been the one unfortunate enough to be closest to him when he woke up, so his eyes immediately fixed on you.
Several emotions seemed to flash across his face at once, his look of anger changing to one of shock. His claws disappeared just as quickly as they’d appeared just moments ago as you slowly put your hands down, now a little concerned for the man.
“Y/N?”, he asked, his head tilting slightly.
It was your turn to look confused, “Did we know each other?”, you asked.
Sure, you’d heard of Wolverine, of Logan, but you’d never met him personally, you had originally been set to attend Charles Xavier’s school when you were 18 but after an attack on the school the same year your parents had decided against it.
The Logan before you’ s face fell slightly; he seemed almost hurt. It took him a second to respond, “I, uh, I guess not.”
That was when Elektra cut in, explaining to Logan where he was and how she’d found him and Deadpool. While he seemed to only half listen, he got up and found the nearest bottle of Gambit’s booze and started drinking it.
When Deadpool woke up it was a completely different side of weird, you hadn’t had the pleasure of coming across a Deadpool variant, but you’d heard how odd they were, and unfortunately for you, you thought they were exaggerating.
After annoying literally everyone in the room, the Deadpool variant all got you to somehow agree to help him and Wolverine get back to the TVA to save his timeline, as well as a sneak attack on Cassandra Nova. The whole time Logan watched you from the corner of his eye.
He couldn’t completely convince himself it was you. The last time he’d seen you, you were lying dead on the front lawn of the school, killed by a large group of humans, along with almost everyone at the mansion. You were covered in blood and cold by the time he’d gotten there. He’d held onto you until the coroner was nearly begging to take you away.
Logan remembered almost everything about you. Your favorite movie, what food you hated, and even the feel of your hand in his. But when you looked at him with little to no recognition in your eyes, his heart could’ve broken all over again.
You had no idea the conflicting feelings he’d had while you sat only a few feet away. You looked practically the same, maybe older than you were when you’d died in his world, he was older too, maybe you just didn’t want to be with an old man and were pretending not to know him. He was the worst Wolverine after all, he wouldn’t blame you.
But then there were some things you did that reminded him of his version of you, the way your laugh sounded exactly the same, how you sat the same way in your chair, and you even made the same face when you’d taken a drink of Gambit’s whiskey as when you’d sip his occasionally while the two of you sat on the couch in the mansion watching some movie one of the others had put on.
It was you, just, one that apparently hadn’t fallen in love with Logan Howlett. Logan himself couldn’t help but wonder if that had been your reason for being sent here, but thought better of it, deciding he'd probably never have that kind of impact on any kind of world.
After a successful attack on Cassandra and her small army, Deadpool and Wolverine were gone, and you hadn’t expected to ever see them again. Then Cassandra almost destroyed every timeline to exist, and you’d thought for sure those two variants had gotten themselves killed.
But then the TVA came for you and brought you to said Deadpool variants world, which he had successfully and somehow saved with Wolverine’s help. You couldn’t help but notice Logan’s shirt missing this time around. Almost cursing yourself for not trying harder to go to Xavier’s school when you were younger, having a chance to meet your world’s Logan. A man’s abs can do that to a woman.
“Happy to not be in the void and all, but why am I here?”, you asked, eyeing the agents around you and taking in the cracked subway station.
“I thought I’d give a little gift to Wolvie here,” Deadpool replied in an overly enthusiastic manner, throwing an arm around Logan who instantly pushed him away.
“I’m not a gift to give you dumb fuck,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest.
Deadpool ignored your obvious distain and continued, “Well I figured since he lost you in his world and you never falling in love in your world caused his death that you could stay here with us!”.
Your eyes widened and you had to think about what he’d said for a moment, “I-I got him killed? I got Logan and those other mutants killed?”.
Logan couldn’t focus on the other details once his name left your mouth; he hadn’t heard you say that in almost a decade.
You on the other hand turned to the woman beside you that looked to be in charge.
“Is that the reason I was sent there, because I didn’t fall in love with Logan Howlett and he died because of it?”, you asked, you felt like you could be sick.
The woman sighed, almost regretful, “Yes, it was,” she finally answered you. “Without your help of your mutation those mutants did not survive that attack on the school.”
“Oooooo, trauma plot twist,” Deadpool practically squealed.
“Shut the fuck up!”, you snapped back, making Deadpool whisper a bashful, “Sorry,” and take a step back.
The TVA agents left shortly after, and that was how you found yourself living in a small apartment with Wade, Logan, and the craziest old lady you’d ever met, Blind Al.
Wade and she shared a room as weird as it was, you were given the spare room Blind Al reluctantly let you use, as it was now formerly her grow room, and Logan elected to sleep on the couch.
You settled in somewhat nicely, you still felt awkward in a world that wasn’t yours living with a doofus that you'd grown somewhat fond of and a man you got killed in his other life, but you had new friends, ones that didn’t have a huge chance of dying every day so that was a plus.
Yukio and Ellie had gravitated towards you, you were somewhat close in age, with them being early twenties and you in your somewhat late twenties, they reminded you of your younger sibling’s friends from back home in your previous world.
So, when they invited you to go out a month after you settled in, you couldn’t say no, it would get you out of the house at least, you wouldn’t have to sit and listen to Wade and Logan argue or endure Logan’s kicked puppy look when he thought you weren’t looking.
You felt awful you weren’t the you he thought you were, and you knew it was nothing you could control but after Wade let it slip what had happened to you in Logan’s world you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if the roles were reversed.
So, to hopefully be able to forget about everything for a few hours you got ready, doing some easy makeup and hair, you put on a cute outfit you’d bought earlier in the week, Yukio had begged you to go shopping after finding out you didn’t own anything for “going out” yet on this world.
You relented and picked out a skirt, top, tights, and boots, it was simple yet cute enough to not be mistaken as any old outfit.
When you’d exited your bedroom in your shared apartment shortly before Yukio and Ellie were due to come get you, Wade looked up from whatever the hell he was doing on his phone, which could be anything from porn to angry birds.
His eyes widened slightly, “Got a date?”, he asked, only slightly feigning shock.
Logan had looked up immediately at the mention of a date, he was sipping a bottle of whiskey at the kitchen table. His eyes traveled over your outfit when he thought you were busy glaring at Wade.
“Not that its your business merc but no, I’m going out with Yukio and Ellie,” you stated, tossing a lip balm you had in your hand to your small purse.
“Girls nightttt,” Wade sang, only making you sigh.
As if a divine intervention interrupted there was a knock on the door and when you opened it you found the two girls standing there waiting.
“Hi Wade!”, Yukio exclaimed waving at him.
Wade leaned back in his seat to look around you at Yukio, “Hi Yukio!”.
“Come on,” you told them, moving to leave but a hand on your shoulder made you turn around. It was Wade.
“Now honey,” he began, “don’t take drinks from strangers, don’t go off alone, and don’t hook up with anyone. You know what they say about beer goggles, you’ll be waking up next to the crypt keeper.”
While you rolled your eyes and pushed Wade’s hand off your shoulder although you knew he really did care. Logan on the other hand clenched his jaw. You weren’t his and he knew that, but Wade’s last comment set his teeth on edge.
“I’m a big girl Wade, but thanks,” you told him, turning around and leaving this time without so much as a glimpse Logan’s way.
When the door shut Wade spoke again, “She’s gonna get picked up by every hottie in the club in that outfit. Did you see her legs Peanut?”.
Wade then almost immediately flinched when he felt glass shatter on the back of his head, the alcohol in the now broken bottle staining the back of his My Little Pony shirt.
He didn’t even have to look back to imagine the look on Logan’s face, “Gotcha,” was all Wade replied, picking out a rather large glass shard from the back of his neck.
…
It was hours later when you were so drunk you couldn’t feel the cold outside, but you sure felt good on the inside. The only bad thing was that the other girls wanted to go to another club, and your social battery was just about gone.
You three stumbled out of the club, Yukio and you giggled at something Ellie had yelled at some perv leering at you when you’d walked out. Stopping the other two from turning the opposite way to another club, you spoke rather loudly despite being out of the crowd and loud music.
“I-I think I’m gonna go home! You girls go!” you told them, making Yukio frown.
“Don’t walk home by yourself, call Wade or something,” Ellie commented.
You nodded thoughtfully before gasping, “I’ll call Logan, Wade is doing butt stuff with Vanessa tonight!”.
Your loud comment sent Yukio into a giggling fit and made a guy near you wince, maybe he’d done butt stuff too.
Ellie only nodded, rolling her eyes as you pulled your phone from your purse, scrolling through the very few numbers you’d had, Wade had gotten both you and Logan phones soon after arriving, claiming he needed to be able to send you both funny videos every day. Which were no doubt ignored by Logan.
Pressing on Logan’s contact, you put the phone up to your ear, listening to it ring only once before the call was answered.
“You alright?”, was the first thing out of Logan’s mouth and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh, I’m great!” you replied, “but Ellie doesn’t want me walking home alone and Wade is doing butt stuff so will you come? I’m only a few blocks from home.”
The whole sentence was sort of rushed and you thought maybe Logan hadn’t heard you correctly because the line went silent.
You were about to repeat yourself when Logan stopped you, “I’m coming,” he told you, you could hear him shuffling around and the sound of a door closing, “What’s the name?”.
Despite having been in the club for well over an hour you had to look up and squint at then brightly lit sign, “Uhhhh,” you mumbled into to the phone, before your eyes finally focused, “House of Yes!”.
You could’ve sworn Logan chuckled, “Be there soon,” was all he said before hanging up.
“Escort secured,” you told the two girls, slipping your phone back into your purse. “He’ll be here soon,” you added, attempting to replicate his gravely tone, only succeeding in making yourself cough and sending Yukio into a laughing fit.
It was only 15 minutes of standing around before Logan showed up, you spotted him first, having turned yourself that way to look for him. He was dressed in his usual jeans, button up, and undershirt, along with a leather jacket he’d picked up recently.
He looked good you had to admit, nearly every girl outside, and even some guys turned to look at him when he walked past. He didn’t give them any sort of acknowledgement though, earning some disappointed looks from a few of them when he walked up to you.
What was it Wade said about beer goggles? Logan was hot without alcohol though, so you shook off the thought.
“Ready to go?”, he asked, eyes scanning over you, not to be a perv but to make sure everything was the same as when you left, and it was, save for the way you swayed slightly and the way you smiled at him like you were so happy to see him. He thought he’d never see that again, but he has to remind himself for what felt like that hundredth time that it wasn’t you, not his you at least.
You nodded, turning around to hug both of the girls, telling them to be safe, although you knew Ellie wouldn’t put up with anyone’s shit.
“Bye Y/N! Bye Logan!”, Yukio exclaimed, waving at you both before grabbing Ellie’s hand as they turned the opposite way.
“Alright, come on,” Logan said, taking a step away from you and waiting for you to follow him to keep walking, he made sure to keep you closest to the buildings, it wouldn’t be too great to have you fall in the street in front of a car.
It was silent for a couple minutes, you stumbled every so often and Logan’s hand always shot out, ready to catch you, but you always righted yourself, giggling as you did, and Logan found himself smiling at the sound.
You caught him smiling after a couple times, narrowing your eyes, “What’re you smiling at grumpy?”, you asked, voice anything but angry.
“Grumpy?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Yeah, it’s what I call you sometimes in my head, Mr. Grumpy is also a good one,” you told him in a very serious tone.
“Mr. Grumpy,” Logan found himself repeating, only making you laugh, which made you stumble, nearly knocking into someone walking the opposite way of you both. Logan instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the almost collision and into his side.
You immediately noticed he was warm, you could feel it even with his multiple layers on, it was growing colder now outside as the days went on and you yourself knew without the alcohol, you’d probably be cold but here he was, a personal heater.
“Are you actually just a werewolf?” you asked him, making him stop walking completely and turn towards you, removing his arm from your shoulders, making you pout a bit.
“I am not a werewolf,” he told you seriously.
You groaned, “Okay but you’re really warm, you have claws, you can run on all fours, and you’ve got those little…,” you trailed off, putting your pointer fingers up on each side of your head, attempting to mimic the little swishes his hair made.
Personally, you had no idea if his hair just did that (because he’s a werewolf), or if he styled it that way. You couldn’t decide which option to like more.
When Logan didn’t seem to understand what you’d said, you reached up, lightly running a finger along one of the swoops of his hair. You jumped a bit when his hand caught your wrist as you were pulling your hand back.
There was a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize but it soon disappeared as he let you go, “Sorry,” he quickly said. “Reflex.”
You shrugged, “No harm done,” you told him, and his eyes softened at the way you brushed off his behavior from years of enduring nothing even remotely close to the gentle way you’d just touched him.
Maybe you didn’t think so badly of him. You always seemed so wary, afraid to make him angry, to say something wrong, like he was a ticking time bomb. It put him on edge and made him want to steer clear of you, he didn’t want to scare you off either. But now, standing there staring at you while you just smiled at him made him relax a bit.
“Let’s go,” you suddenly said, beginning to walk away from him. He was back at your side in moments, and you found yourself bumping into him every so often, apologizing every time you did.
Finally, he wrapped an arm around you again, pulling you back into the warmth of his side. You smiled when he did, stumbling slightly but he held you up easily, not letting you fall.
“Thanks for coming to get me,” you told him when you were only a block from home.
“No problem,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk ahead.
There were a few moments of silence before you began to giggle suddenly, Logan’s brow furrowed as he looked down at you, “What?” he asked, hopefully not regretting asking.
“So, you’re not a werewolf?” you asked, looking up at him.
Logan groaned looking away from you, “No, and if you keep asking, you’ll regret it.”
“Ooo what are you gonna do?” you mocked, poking his side.
“Wouldn’t you like to know sweetheart,” he replied, making you stumble at the nickname.
“I would,” you challenged, after righting yourself with the help of Logan’s arm around you.
Logan regarded you for a moment before shaking his head, “You’re drunk, another time.”
“Ughhhhh,” you groaned, “Tell me!”.
“Not a chance,” Logan replied, smirking a bit. He’d been drinking since you left and was buzzed himself, he couldn’t help but smile at your behavior.
The you he’d known had always acted like this, at least when intoxicated. You were whiny, clumsy, and clingy. The way your fingers gripped the back of his jacket to stay up right made his heart ache though and his smile fell.
You noticed his attitude change and became concerned, “You okay?” you asked, attempting to stop walking, but Logan kept you going.
“Fine” he replied, his hold on you loosening slightly, you couldn’t help but notice.
So, you stopped, much to Logan’s dismay, moving to stand in front of him, swaying slightly as you very determinedly looked him in the eye.
“What’s wrong, did I do something?” you asked, genuine concern in your voice, he could almost feel his heart crack just slightly.
“No, it’s…,” Logan began, his tongue getting tied, he was never great at emotions, that’s why he drank so much. You didn’t have to feel anything then.
“I’m listening,” you reassured, resisting the urge to take his hand.
“You’re so much like…like her, like you,” Logan finally said, not really meeting your eye. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t, you even smell the same.”
Logan had rendered you with nothing to say, could you truly comfort him? Reassure him? You felt yourself sobering up a bit at the thought.
It was a few moments of silence before you found your words, “I know this has been shitty for you too, and I'm sorry I haven't been a better friend. Honestly sometimes I think you hate the fact that I'm not her, me her, whatever...that you hate me. But then you do things like this and it makes me think otherwise. I guess I just don't know how to...approach you, Logan."
Logan felt his heart drop at the word “friend”, and the thought he made you feel inadequate. God he really was stupid enough to think he might have a chance with this version of you.
But he found himself lifting a hand to your cheek, feeling your skin heat up beneath his fingers, “I could never hate you, not in this universe, not in any, got it? Its my fault, for pushing that onto you, making you feel like you have to be someone you’re not.”
You couldn’t help but laugh slightly, “We’re both just fucked up in our own special way, aren’t we?”.
Logan nodded, dropping his hand, but you caught it in your own, “It’s not your fault either you know, I personally blame whatever bitchass overlord of the universe did this.”
Logan had to keep himself from solely focusing on the way your hand wrapped around his, “But…,” he went to argue.
You put up a hand to stop him, “Enough with the self-pity Howlett, its unbecoming of a man of your nature.”
“My nature?” Logan asked, titling his head at you.
“Yes, the nature of being absurdly attractive,” you admitted, looking away from him as you spoke, attempting to walk away, but he pulled you back, almost into his chest, but he kept you a few inches away, still concerned with scaring you.
“Absurdly?” Logan asked, the smirk returning to his face.
You swallowed hard, “Did I say that? I meant unappealing, completely unsightly.”
Your attempt at saving your future sober self from your drunk self was failing miserably, but Logan gave in after a few seconds, shrugging as he turned, placing his arm around you once more, guiding you towards the apartment building you could finally see in the distance.
“Whatever you say kid,” he told you.
This was the most at home you two had felt in a while, and when you sat next to each other at breakfast in the morning, Logan passing you whatever you needed when you’d asked, Wade gasped dramatically.
“Did you two also engage in butt stuff last night, or is that not your cup of whiskey Wolvie?” Wade asked.
This earned him a fork to the forehead, easily tossed across the table by Logan.
The way you laughed made Logan’s heart skip a beat instead of crack again. For the first time in quite a while he felt hope, and if being here with you meant putting up with Wade’s dumbass mouth, he could make an exception just this once.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I felt like Tumblr was seriously lacking in Logan fluff so here ya go!
#logan howlett#james logan howlett#deadpool#wade wilson#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett x reader#xmen#logan howlett x you#logan howlett fanfiction#hugh jackman#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett fluff
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MR O’HARA HAS ME ACTING FERAL BOTH OF MY LIPS HAS BEEN DROOLING SINCE I WATCHED ATSV OPENING NIGHT… I NEED HIM TO DESTROY ME
RIGHT??? LIKE--LIKE--
(cws: across the spiderverse spoilers, gn pronouns, smut, rough sex, mating press, size kink, biting/venom, belly bulges, mindbreak(?), breeding mention, a bit of forbidden love trope)
Like....imagine, if you will, becoming an assistant for the Spider-society after your dimension is destroyed. It's mostly because Miguel took pity on you since you're not a spider-person, you had nothing to do with the unravelling of your world, and/or you were meant to gain your spider-powers but an anomaly in your dimension prevented it. Since there's no place for you in another multiverse, he keeps you on his team both to give you asylum and to keep an eye on you just in case you prove to be an anomaly yourself....but it becomes pretty clear pretty early on that you're not really a threat. Not for violence, at least.
You're just a sweet thing that gets doted on by nearly everyone in the society--you're either a refreshing break from the endless spiderman variants running around or you remind the spiders of their Mary Janes, their Gwen Stacies, their Gayatri Singhs, and being a civilian to boot makes you the perfect candidate to have your things carried for you and be given web-slinging rides around the facility even though you're supposed to be the assistant here.
But even so, even though you're treated so lightly, Miguel really likes you and even--gasp--enjoys your company. It can be hard to tell with him, but the most perceptive of the spiders notice that Miguel keeps you in his good graces always. When he's stressed or in a bad mood, he collects himself before he speaks to you. He never snaps at you, and on the very rare times you get caught in his crosshairs, he apologizes quietly and gently and reiterates that whatever it was about, it wasn't your fault. He gives you so much wiggle room for error to the point that his companions sometimes complain outright that he's such a hardass, but he never berates you when you make a mistake, and without fail Miguel will come up with some reason for it; "That's because they don't screw up as often as you do" or "At least I can trust them to do their job", or he'll just tell whoever's bitching to leave you out of it and he'll dismiss you to discuss the matter privately.
Surprisingly, those incidents don't bother him nearly as much as when the inner circle starts getting closer to you. He feels this deep need to pull you away when Gwen offers to take you on a trip through the dimensions (although that's just plain dangerous), but it also bubbles up when Hobie hangs around and encourages you to join his band, and when Jess asks you questions about your life and is eager to hear about any potential romances you might be getting yourself into--there's a lot of single spider-people out there, and you're not tied to any dimension, so you've got plenty of options!
God, Miguel hates when Jess brings that up. You don't need to go anywhere, your place is here. You can stay here safely, which is something he can't promise in any of those other dimensions the spiders come from. But that's not the real reason, he realizes that when he feels that tingle at the sight of you holding Mayday and playing with her, having been given the task of impromptu babysitter for Peter when he has to rush off and do damage control somewhere.
It's you. He likes having you around, and it's not about letting you venture off into other dimensions, he just doesn't want you to leave him. That's why he loves it when you reply to those people, when you tell them "Oh, but I couldn't leave Mr. O'Hara! He'd lose his head without me." or "I really like this job, actually. I wanna keep working under Mr. Miguel." and especially "Miguel saved my life, I owe him all I can give. I could never leave him all alone." because it just reaffirms that desire for him to keep you as close to his side as possible. When he replays those videos of himself and his daughter, the pain is dulled for a while as he sees your eyes in hers, and envisions a future where you create a new family with him--one that he can properly protect this time.
It's that fantasy that emboldens him to lay hands on you, your body so puny and small in comparison to his massive frame, so fragile as he holds your hips in both hands and waits for you to tell him this isn't really what you want. He's waiting for it, anticipating it, even reminding you that you have the option when you look up at him shell-shocked. He promises that your answer won't affect your position here. It falls on deaf ears, however, because you desperately want to kiss him but you just don't think you can reach.
It's so adorable to see you try. Up on your tiptoes, clutching at his suit, straining to try and reach him where he's at--all it takes is an arm around your waist and he's got you off your feet and in the air, perfectly situated to press your pretty mouth to his own and awaken his instincts that have laid dormant all these long years. The stress of keeping each and every dimension following its intended canon has nearly broken him, it might have done so already if not for your unexpected appearance in his life. It's riled him up so much he doesn't think twice about taking you back to his place, nor gives him second thoughts when you help him peel that tight suit off and he tears through your clothes just as easily--maybe it really doesn't matter. His world is gone and so is yours, but you're both still here and you're begging him for another kiss, for more attention. How sweet could you possibly be? Pleading for something you'll always have and not realizing it's the least you deserve, perfect as you are?
Miguel just can't help himself anymore, he's too far gone and you’re too angelic for him to let down when you want him so badly. You don't seem to mind the rough treatment as he pushes you down either, no, you thrive on his aggressiveness and even encourage it to come out as he clambers over you. That pretty smile and those giggles as he shoves your thighs apart and spits, his venom sending electrifying tingles up and down your spine as he fingers the makeshift lube inside you. He's so bulky you can't even get your legs all the way around him when he lowers himself, forced to let your heels scrabble down his lower back as you struggle to find some kind of purchase on him--to just grab something and let it keep you steady as he slides in and rocks you into oblivion. The toxins loosen you up too, thank god, or else you'd be seriously struggling to take him in when he's practically twice your size. And he doesn't want to force it in, he just wants to ease you into the process before he allows himself to batter your poor body with thrusts that shake the whole bed--it's a little bit of payback for flaunting your pretty self around his office without ever telling him how you actually feel about him. Now you know exactly what you've been missing.
Drooling, hair sticking to your skin, sweat dripping down your chest, body gripping him like a vice yet endlessly slick....you're a total mess and he couldn't be more satisfied. You don't even try to keep yourself together, but that's all that he wants--he wants you to lose yourself in the way he makes you feel so you won't ever want to leave. The taboo is there; you're not from his dimension, he shouldn't be planning any kind of future with someone who doesn't belong in his world. But it makes it all more thrilling in the moment even if he can reason his way around it, it makes his every thrust gain power until he's breaking your willpower down enough to have your eyes rolling back in your head, hips jumping weakly as you try to participate. You don't even know how good you make him feel without lifting a finger.
Gliding through you as if you couldn't be more willing to take him, his position is clear just from a glance down at your stomach--the bulge is obvious, and as sickening as it could be your whines as you brush your fingertips over it sing his praises without a coherent word. You're so wet and stupid and needy on his cock, clearly he should've done this a long time ago when you were so much worse at hiding your pining looks at him from across the room. If he knew it would culminate into this, he would've saved the assistant crap and turned you into his stress relief toy that very first day. If he had, you might've already had a family by now....knowing him, at least.
It's still just as sweet to lick your tears up now, though. You're already drunk on his cock, it doesn't make much more difference for him to sink his fangs into your throat and pump you full of more venom straight from the source, the shock sending you straight into orgasm and dragging it out for so long he fears you might just pass out from the pleasure. It's like he's juicing up a plump little fruit until it's so ripe it could burst. And as if your own ecstasy wasn't enough, you really lose it when Miguel has you pinned and flooding that sore, fluttering little hole with so much seed it burns. Jets of pearly-white cum squirting down your thighs, painting you like a canvas without him even pulling out, because you just can't take him at his peak and you know it. You just have to whine and squirm beneath him as he fills you up, his hot breath puffing over your cheeks as he keeps you barely still enough not to wiggle away. With a shift of your hips you nearly slip off right up to the tip, his cum sloshing about and making everything too slick--but a hand slides up your neck and grips the crown of your head, his biceps flexing as he slowly pushes you back down with vermillion eyes piercing through your heated flesh. Lower, deeper, until he's seated himself up in your guts again and holds you there to milk those last few shots out of him, keep him nice and warm with those precious walls uncontrollably spasming around him. Doesn't stop you from pulling his head down closer, though, and whispering your praises while begging in whimpers in equal measure, urging him not to stop now. You're not ready to let him go.
How convenient is that? Miguel won't ever let you go, and he's known that deep in his chest since the moment you arrived--it couldn't make him any more satisfied to know that you feel the exact same way.
#don't look at me i know im 100% off the shits#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#across the spiderverse#spiderman 2099#spiderman x reader#spicy writing#ellie writes#anons
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Anemoia - Nostalgia for a time or a place one has never known.
AnemoiaTale is smth I’ve been working on these past few days because, I honestly miss the peak AU days and I wanted to make one that’s personal to me :)
To sum it up (and I’ll add more details as I post more content for this AU), this AU takes place inside of frisk’s dreams (frisk is around 15-16 in this AU). Because of that, the underground has to deal with Frisk’s dreams and shenanigans ensue!
Of course, being a sans variant he’s the most aware of whats happening around him. This is caused by frisk subconsciously choosing sans as sort of a guardian for their dreams as they need someone to watch over them.
His powers are practically the same as OG sans, with strings that aren’t as powerful as someone like error’s or anything, it’s just extra utility for fights. The reason why he gained them from frisk’s dream is because he personally resonated with it…
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SFW Alphabet: Nightcrawler
a/n: yayy I finally got around to writing again, as I said here's a Nightcrawler alphabet. It feels good to write for the first time in a few months. I plan on writing actual fics though, once I have more out I'll take requests. For now, enjoy a SFW Alphabet! A NSFW will come later hehe. I'm getting the feel of writing him so I'll work out any kinks of things I don't like as I write more of him. I'm going to try to mix the variants of him and not stick with a solid version, so there will be mixes from comics and other shows, etc in his characterization. I hope you enjoy <3
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?):
Kurt is very affectionate, he's a lover, so he likes to be close to you at all times. He likes giving you hugs, kisses, or simply giving you gifts like flowers or chocolates.
He likes spending time with you too, and he will call you sweet things in German because he likes to see you blush.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?):
He'd be a great best friend, always making sure you're doing good and supporting you through bad times. He'd be a blast to hang out with, he'd teleport you around Genosha and show you all the lovely sights.
He'd always make sure you felt cared for, even as just a friend, he'd still ensure you were safe and sound. He likes to have fun, so anytime you wanted to do something, he'd be down.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?):
Kurt is a huge cuddler. He is so soft because of his velvet skin, so he is extra warm. He makes the best cuddle buddy for winter because he keeps you warm, like a heated stuffed animal.
He loves to hold you, he often will rub your back or play with your hair, he will also read to you in German, which almost always lulls you to sleep. He loves to have his tail wrapped around you as well, keeping you secure.
Sometimes he likes to be held though, his upbringing at the circus didn't offer him much affection that way, so he cherishes it when he can be more vulnerable with you. Sometimes he puts that goofy self away and he crawls into your chest and curls up.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?):
Settling down is always something Kurt has wanted to do, but with his lifestyle, it can be hard to determine when.
He's always wanted a family, and he values that at his core, he would talk about settling down a lot with his partner and together, you'd figure out a good time. I think he'd want to settle when Krakoa comes around, after the attack on Genosha, your plans to settle had to be pushed back.
Kurt is German so of course he can cook. He is an excellent cook at a lot of things, but some foods he doesn't normally eat are a bit rough for him. He learns from trial and error.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?):
If he had to, he'd do it in a way where your feelings would be taken into consideration. He'd be as gentle as possible, and he'd let you know that he still cares about you.
I don't think he'd want you out of his life, (unless you cheated or did something really bad), so even if you broke up, you'd still remain good friends.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?):
Being a religious man, commitment is important to him. If he were with you, it would only be you he'd loyal to and he would date in hopes to marry.
He would go off of you, but dating is a trial run for marriage, and he dates for that. He would imagine your lives together, and he would like to marry after a year or so.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?):
He is very gentle, he is sweet and tender and learned to be that way because of all the hatred he experienced in his life. Everyone was afraid of him growing up, so he learned to be extra sweet and gentle to make up for his 'scary' appearance. He doesn't want anyone to be afraid of him.
Physically, he is as tender as ever, his touch is so light and sweet. He loves to caress your back or cheek while you sleep beside him, even his tail will run gently up and down your body.
He is very in tune with his emotions and empathetic to those around him. He is understanding, and is always ready to help you if you feel overwhelmed or upset at all. He is very good at dealing with emotions, and will always do his best to make sure his partner is okay.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?):
Kurt loves hugs! He hugs friends, family, lovers. He does it all the time, and he is one of the best huggers out there. He can squeeze happily, hold tenderly, and spin playfully.
When he embraces you, you can feel the love radiating off of him. It is one of your favorite things to feel him hugging you, and of course his tail wraps around you!
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?):
He would be a little nervous, but he would say it first. He'd either randomly blurt it out to you, or he'd make sure you were having a special time together and he'd speak it tenderly to you.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?):
Kurt can get pretty jealous, it stems from his insecurity. When he gets jealous, he will remain close to you with a hand on your hip or around you. He might kiss you on the cheek to tell whomever you're speaking to that you're taken. His tail will wrap around your arm or leg too.
He will grumble against you later on, he might feel a little more insecure after, but some reassurance and he will be okay again. If he got really jealous, he'd teleport you away and he'd take you somewhere so he could make sure you and everyone else knew you were taken.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?):
Oh his kisses...such sweet, amazing kisses. He has experience, so his kisses would be perfect. He'd learn what you like, and he'd make sure you were breathless every time.
His lips would gently graze over yours, he smiles that cheeky grin of his and he would press them fully into yours. The kiss might be tender, might be a little more passionate, but his soft lips would make you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close.
He loves lip kisses of course, but he also likes to kiss your wrists and the back of your hand if he's feeling playful. He likes getting his temple and neck kissed, even if it makes him blush.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?):
Kurt is excellent around kids. He knows how to handle them, and he is quite playful with them. He always tells you how he wants a few little ones in the future, and he hopes you do too.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?):
Kurt isn't a morning person, he is a little whiny and grumpy when he wakes up, and he is rather clingy. He doesn't like to get out of bed but will trudge after you and hold you from behind if you make breakfast.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?):
Kurt loves his sleep, he values it. In the circus growing up, his mistreatment went as far as being isolated to a cage with a thin layer of hay as cushioning. So, now that he can have an actual bed, he adores it.
He likes soft blankets and pillows, curling up in them like a nest, and holding you close to him. He buries his face in your hair, or he snuggles into your chest for safety.
He doesn't snore, he learned to be silent when he sleeps, you don't ask why. But he makes a tiny purring noise, and his tail stays wrapped around you to make sure you're still there when he wakes up.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?):
Kurt is a pretty open person. Some of the things of his past that are hard for him might take him a while before he tells you, but he just needs to work up the courage. You know that he was mistreated in the circus, so don't pressure him to tell you. He will tell you everything, it just takes time.
He might tell you something that he is uncomfortable with that reminds him of his past or childhood, his playfulness is more serious when he talks about it so you know he's not joking around. He is so grateful you take it seriously and it makes him love you even more.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?):
He is very patient, he learned to be growing up. He can handle quite a lot of shit before he might get a little riled up and upset. Even if he does get angry, he tries to be as reasonable as he can.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?):
He is like a safe, he locks away everything you tell him. Favorite flower, favorite color, little things you like and dislike. He remembers what seasonings you like best with what foods, how you like things cooked, literally everything.
He remembers important things like allergies and triggers, preferences, places to go, everything you say is so important to him. He surprises you with his knowledge too, even you forget you've told him things until he brings it up in conversation.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?):
Definitely when he said he loved you, it was such a special moment between you two and a defining day in your relationship. You grew so much closer, and it was a near perfect day. When he heard you say it back, he swore he died and went to heaven. His heart swelled so much and that day is definitely a core memory for him.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?):
Kurt is protective to a degree. He knows you can handle yourself, but he absolutely won't hesitate to step up and defend you. If anyone speaks about you in a poor manner, he jumps to defend you, especially if you aren't there. He doesn't let anyone talk bad about you.
If you are hurt or can't defend yourself, expect him to be more agile and aggressive than you've ever seen. He will swing those swords and defend you like precious treasure. (Which you are to him).
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?):
Every single date you have, Kurt puts so much effort into. He makes sure things are perfect, he remembers all the little things, he makes sure that you are enjoying yourself and that you have a wonderful time.
Every gift is special and sentimental. Even if it's silly and small, like chocolate, it is always your favorite flavor and brand.
Kurt will adjust to your love language, and acts of service is something he does a lot for you. He will cook, clean, anything if you're too tired to do it. And he never complains, always doing it with a smile on his face.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?):
The only thing that might be perceived as bad is he might be too playful sometimes. He might be a little too light hearted and silly when things need to be more serious, but he gets better with this habit as your relationship develops.
Sometimes his insecurities about his appearance can fester and they can make him slightly more irritable because he feels like you can do so much better than him. Just be sure to reassure him and it usually helps a lot to hear you say sweet things.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?):
Kurt for the most part doesn't seem too concerned with his appearance, but he does have insecurities when it comes to his looks. Sometimes if he sees an attractive person speaking to you, he feels a little down when he thinks about his own looks.
Besides that, he is very aware of his hygiene because he is covered in velvety fuzz, so he washes himself every day and makes sure he is clean.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?):
Absolutely. Kurt loves you with all his heart, you are his everything. Without you, he would feel like a piece of himself is missing. One of his worst fears is losing you, he often has bad dreams about it and wakes you up at night to make sure you're still with him.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.):
Kurt was not a contortionist in the circus, but he might as well have been. Kurt is incredibly flexible, able to bend and twist in unnatural angles. He will show you all sorts of things he can do and loves to hear your praise.
He shakes off from the shower like a wet dog.
One of his favorite smells is fresh, buttery popcorn.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Kurt is a devout Catholic, so he wouldn't want anyone bad mouthing his beliefs. Kurt is very accepting and wouldn't try to convert you or make you believe in things you don't want, he keeps his religious beliefs to himself and only speaks if asked about it. However, if you bad mouth him or his beliefs, he will bristle and he won't like it.
He is open minded to hearing discussions or answering questions if you don't believe, but as long as they are respectful. If you talk poorly about it, he won't be interested in continuing the conversation.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?):
As mentioned before, Kurt loves to sleep. He didn't get a lot of good rest in the circus. So now that he is able, he tends to nest and curl up in a pile of soft blankets and pillows. He loves feeling secure and safe, which is something he never really got before.
If you rest with him, he's either holding you or snuggled into you. He likes to sleep in a dark place, it makes him feel more relaxed. Some nights when he has trouble, he listens to religious passages and he falls asleep quickly.
Thanks for reading.
*BAMF*
dividers by @/adornedwithlight
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or Static (Moltendreams variant of Error) ventures somewhere he shouldn’t be and encounters a eldritch horror Creation Entity. I wonder who Static could be talking about...?
#gASP whats this?? a canonical moltendreams comic?? WHAT#SDKFJl its a quick little thought i had yesterday at any rate#you know how it is#to just get utterly possessed by images sometimes#moltendreams!au#MoltenDreams!error#error sans#error!sans#utmv au#utmv#undertale multiverse#undertale multiverse au#undertale#undertale au#errortale#error!tale#errortale au#my art#cw scopophobia#scopohobia tw
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