#i feel like it'd be easier to hit all the points i want to hit with a char fic

[shouyuus]

What about... Vi teaching you how to trib, as a friend of course... I don't know why I'm obsessed with the idea of her being all flustered when you ask her to show you since you've never done it before.

with friends like these

violet; super duper 18+, smut/fluff, lesbian pining, college roommate!vi au (kinda)

"f-fuck -- fuck, vi -- mm -- ngh --"

"j-juuuust like that -- c'mon --" vi is panting, her cheeks so warm her head is starting to spin, and she's not quite sure how she got here -- well no, she knows exactly how she got here -- but she can't quite think for the way she's got you trembling beneath her, your sodden cunts sliding against each other as you dig your nails into her arms, your head thrown back into the lumpy material of her pillow, her name on your lips like a curse or a prayer.

she groans, rucking her hips against yours, shifting her leg to find a better angle. you keen, mouth falling open in a soft pant, your finger scrabbling at her arms. she grins -- a half-feral thing, as she leans down, if only to watch you fall apart for her from as close as she can possibly get.

"vi, vi, vi!"

"yeah? gonna cum for me, pretty girl? gonna show me how good this feels?" she breaths, grunting as she hoists your thigh over her hip and fucks herself down over you all the harder.

it'd been a strange sort of conversation to have on a thursday night, you and her, drunk and high (respectively), sprawled out on the old couch in your living room, vi chuckling as you stutter yourself into a deeper and deeper corner --

"it's just -- i've never understood how it works --"

vi takes another long hit of her j, blowing out smoke, "what? scissoring?"

your blush darkens as you crinkle your nose.

"y-yeah! like how --" you place your mug of box-wine on the table and hold up both of your hands, two fingers extended as you try to simulate the motion, "it just doesn't seem like it'd be -- pleasant?"

vi grins, a bit too wide, reaches out with one of her hands to catch yours, tugging you closer.

"it's not like that -- chill -- chill -- relax your fingers, or -- legs -- whatever --" she giggles, head tipping back as she tries to wrangle one of your hands between both of hers, trying not to think too hard on the way you let yourself be manhandled into her lap, how easily you give into her instructions, how your skin smells just a bit like pastry bread, sweet and buttery and utterly, mind-bendingly delicious.

she swallows, frowning at your hand in hers --

"usually, you're like --" she tries to show you with her fingers criss-crossed with yours, "face to face, but like -- your legs are crossed --"

you giggle, watching as she tries to slot her fingers between yours.

you grab her hands in yours, shaking your head, tipping back even as she tries to yank you back into her.

"at this point, it'd be easier for you to just show me --"

your breath cuts off as vi's hands tighten around you, hauling you up and over her lap, so that somehow, you end up straddling her, your arms propped on her shoulders, your thighs on either side of her hips, her palms warm on your waist as you fight for a breath that she's long-since stolen.

there's a storm brewing behind the horizons of her ocean eyes, and lightning strikes against the flintstones in your stomach, setting your body ablaze as she bites her lips and looks up at you, her eyes going dark in the static-ridden light.

"yeah? you... you want me to show you how it's done?"

you swallow, saltwater and caramel, slick and sweet down your throat as you search her eyes for any sign of uncertainty.

you find none -- only the hard-lined want you'd become oh-so familiar with as the days went on. the way you'd catch her watching you sometimes, right after you shower, the way you'd find yourself watching her, when she's trying to show off how well she a can flip a pancake in the pan, in nothing but boxers and a tank top.

"i-is that weird?" you ask, chewing on your bottom lip.

vi lets out a soft groan, her eyes darkening as she catches the gesture.

"no -- i mean -- we're friends, right?" she asks, her voice so laced with want she can almost taste it.

you nod, your eyes caught in the net of her gaze, almost in a trance as you let your eyes slick down to her lips.

she leans up to kiss you; you lean down to let her.

it's simple after that -- and so, so easy -- her hoisting you up easy as anything, the pair of you tumbling into her bed, her asking in a voice that's almost a whisper (as if she's afraid she'll wake one of you up from this tender, tenuous daydream) --

"is this okay?"

you nod, eager, fingers sliding into her hair as she groans and peels the sleep shorts from you, tugging down your underwear along with it.

it's only been ten minutes, but vi thinks that it's been centuries, or perhaps only the span of a few seconds. she can't think when she's got you pinned beneath her like this, and she knows she must look a bit unhinged from where you are, sweat shining on her skin as she works her hips down over yours, intent on finding just the perfect angle.

"vi -- oh -- that feels --"

"a-ah fuck, princess -- holy shit --" vi jerks above you, a familiar coil tightening in her stomach as she tries to slow down her pace, to draw it out -- she wants to savor this, to remember this --

"vi -- vi -- mmngh -- th-that's s-so good -- you're making me -- oh god --" you're tugging on her arms, fingers looping around her wrists like bracelets, squeezing her tight as your head tips back and vi leans down to sink her teeth into the bared skin of your throat.

"shit, shit, shit -- no one's gonna -- gonna make you feel this good, hm? pretty g-girl -- no one but me -- fuck --" she rolls her hips, a breath hitching out of her as she feels your swollen clits catch, and then you're squirming beneath her, wetness slicking down your puffy pussy lips, the slick of it nearly throwing her off-pace as she sucks a dark hickey into your skin.

"o-only you, vi -- fuck, please, please, please --" you cum with a hard spasm, fire eating through you as vi whines into the crook of your neck, her own orgasm hitting her half a second later. and it's all you can do to reach out and hold her to you, letting her ride out the waves of her pleasure in soft jerks and heavy pants against you.

"h-hoooly shit..." vi puffs out a laugh against your collarbones as she pushes herself back up. you blink blearily up at her, a tired giggle bubbling out of you as vi pulls back and you both grimace at the soft shluck of your bodies coming apart, sticky with cum and sweat and whatever else.

"w-well --" you say, "i -- that was -- i think i get it now --"

vi stares at you for a second before breaking into a fit of laughter. you join in a second later, reaching for a wad of tissues from her bedside table and handing her a few. she takes it from you with a wide grin.

"and you thought it wouldn't be pleasant."

you crinkle your nose, making a face as the pair of you try in vain to mop up the mess between your bodies. vi holds out her hand for your tissue and you hesitate for a second before dropping it into her open palm.

"thanks," you say.

vi shrugs, biting her lip, her nose ring glinting in the warm glow of her study lamp. she turns to toss both wads into the trash bin by the door. you whoop as they fall in, one after the other.

"what are friends for, right?" she asks, turning back around with a loping grin. there's a kaleidoscope of color caught in the rings of her eyes, and a sadness that you don't have the time to unpack. so you shove back the wince that threatens to shake apart your composure at her words and smile right back.

"y-yeah -- right -- friends."

but you're pretty sure friends don't do what you and vi just did. and friends definitely don't wander back to their own room later that night, the smell of her still on your skin, a pulsing want echoing between your legs, a threading need ticking beneath your ribcage at the thought of her name.

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

Would anybody be interested in my BSD Highschool Au? I'm planning on writing a fic for it, but rn I'm just trying to work out all the smaller details (like figuring out normal names for the Flags and also how tf soccer works)

It's an au where they all still have abilities and go to a high school specifically for kids with abilities. I think it's neat!

[mimipolo]

hi darling, how are you?

genuinely thank you so much for writing about Nam-gyu, I love him and it's kind of disappointing to see that there are almost no fics or headcanons about him :(

I am honestly in love with your way of writing (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

I would love and be very grateful if you could write something about Nam-gyu dating a girl who is more shy and quiet

thank you so so nuch

have a great day/night 🤍

Nam-gyu x shy!reader

HIII I'm doing good tysm for asking‼️

You gave me the opportunity to listen to one of my softer playlists while writing this so kudos to u

He's tries his best to be gentle with you, almost too much. Sometimes he mistakes your meekness for also being weak. Yes weak willed but not necessarily a complete push over. You just prefer to keep to your thoughts to yourself. He genuinely admires you for it because he could never tolerate someone talking shit to his face.

Speaking of he's super quick to defend you, any word he believes could offend you( it offended him more) is immediately being damned to hell. He's holding you close to his side as he shouts at the supposed perpetrator.

We all know he's a super yapper when given the chance so he loves being in your company and talking to you, or well, talking at you. More often than not he's being spoken over or whatever he's saying isn't being received but it's so much more different with you. You're happy to sit and do whatever you're doing as he talks your ear off. Sometimes when he says something especially interesting you ask a question and he's already giddy and ready to explain in unnecessary amounts of detail.

Feels like he's the chosen one because you chose him out of all the loud bastards out there to be with. He wants to brag and show you off so badly but he has to physically restrain himself because he knows how much you'd hate having so many people you didn't know have so much information about you. Sometimes slips in a comment or two...or more to Thanos, nothing too crazy.

You understand him better than anyone else, when he's about to go from frustration to anger, then anger to violence. You're that voice of reason just behind him urging him to reconsider what he's about to say or do. At some point he realises he hears your soothing voice coaxing him to calm down when you're not there. Genuinely shudders at the thought because you have that much of an affect on him?? Terrifying.

Sometimes he likes to sit in silence with you, the windows open and it chills the already cool room as his head lays in your lap. You're humming quietly to yourself as you make a mess of his hair and he's content on staring up at you blissfully as you do so.

Takes into consideration you don't usually like PDA so keeps most of it at home. But any threat of someone even hinting at hitting on you he's softly grabbing your hand to pull you away, mean mugging the person the whole time. You hate confrontation at all costs, remembering how you jumped in shock at him just shouting at someone haunts him endlessly. Avoids doing so unless very much called for.

One thing you'll always acknowledge is how much he tries to remember all the little things about you, the effort he puts into making sure you're comfortable noticeable in every interaction. Even if it looks unnatural on him, he swears he's trying.

Guiltiest pleasure is purposefully making you flustered. Loves turning your head up to meet his eyes just for you to snap your head away as you shrink under his gaze. Thinks it's the cutest thing ever. Especially if you take hold of his wrists and tell him to stop it but don't actually push him away.

One thing he always makes sure of is keeping Thanos in check when he's around. It'd honestly be easier just to avoid him all together but the man is anywhere and everywhere. Has elbowed his stomach roughly when he was halfway calling you Senorita. Would do it again gladly. Got teased a lot after for being so protective you, Thanos clapped his back like some proud father as if he wasn't the main culprit.

He's your number one defender. If you have no fans he's legally dead. Supports every small hobby you do, and insists you make something big with it. Just wants to see you excited about something.

He's a snappy guy with a smart mouth so he has to tripple check himself every time he's slightly upset at you. It's not that he means to hurt you with his words he's just a little too creative. But due to your lax nature conflicts occur very rarely, a sense of peace only you could provide him with. Even if you did argue he'd be folding immediately after he's cooled down.

"Don't hate me kay? I didn't mean it."

"Speak to me pretty, ya know I said sorry."

Doesn't let up until you give out a short laugh, signalling his success.

[twilightkitkat]

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

Part 1 , Part 3, Part 4

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unfortunately, it wasn't left unguarded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was exactly what he thought it was.

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

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

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

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

Bang.

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

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

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

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

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

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

How the hell was he supposed to get home now?

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

---

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

Where the hell was he?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not anymore.

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Wade almost screamed in frustration.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Too familiar.

Holy shit.

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

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

His Logan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As soon as he muttered the word, Logan pounced.

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

But Wade knew that face. Knew those eyes.

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

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

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

And oh.

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

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

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

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

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

And oh.

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

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

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

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

And yet, here Logan was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was going to be a long night.

[lycheeloving]

I KNOW MY THING IS "every member of the Justice League has their own darling". BUT. all of them having the same darling is so fun too... Some slight nsfw at the end so minors dni please. (Inspired by the A Day In Life series by @couldeatthatgirlforlunch, bc it's what made me think of the yandere JL so much that I had to write something. Hope it's ok to tag you!)

I feel like they'd have a schedule. Who's allowed to hang out with you at what time? Just a meticulous schedule that accounts for every second of every day, so that nobody gets to spend more time with you than somebody else.

They try to have one group meal every day, where everyone is present. So even if it's not somebody's turn to spend one-on-one time with you, they still see you and have the opportunity to talk to you that day. They rotate through who gets to sit next to you and right across from you. Those aren't hard rules though, if you want to sit next to somebody else, they begrudgingly (or happily, depending on if you're choosing to sit next to them) follow your wishes. A good way to get back at someone who annoyed you. Green Lantern won't stop bragging about how cool he was yesterday when he took down a bad guy? Get up and tell Superman to scooch over so you can sit next to Batman. Immediately shuts Hal up. And teaches them all not to annoy you during meals if they want to sit next to you.

You sleep in someone else's room every night. That's non-negotiable unfortunately, because some of them are better to sleep next to than others. I think the Flash would move around in his sleep a lot, maybe even snore? Superman treats you like a teddy bear and you can't wriggle out of his grasp when he's sleeping. Wonder Woman probably sprawls out all over the bed so you don't have a lot of space left. Green Lantern steals the blanket. Batman would be one of the better ones, if he wasn't such a light sleeper. Every time you move the slightest bit, he wakes up. Which you wouldn't mind, if he'd only stop his creepy staring... That being said, J'onn is probably the best, quiet and unmoving like Batman, but without the staring. He could be reading your mind and watching your dreams, but that's easier to ignore.

I also think they'd get used to the situation after a while and get more lax about the schedule, get less jealous, learn how to live together! Which is a huge advantage to you as you don't have to hurry from one place to the next to "make the most of your time together" or get back to the Watchtower quickly so you don't cut into the next persons time. That would cause lots of fights in the beginning. None of them blame you, of course, but living with them is still easier when everyone is getting along.

That still leaves the question of how they go about your firsts. Your first kiss with one of them, for example. Pulling names out of a hat? Fight over it? The strongest one gets to go first, the second strongest after that, etc? Letting you decide?

Same thing with having sex. These things are very serious to them so it'd take a while until they decide how to go about it. You'll probably have accepted your place among them at that point, maybe even come to like them?

I could really see them battling it out, even if their jealousy gets better after a while, they would all still want to be the first. Nothing where they'd seriously harm each other, but are still able to determine a winner. Whoever hits the ground first loses?

But whatever it is and whoever wins, I think your first time having sex with them would be a group activity. First place gets to actually have sex with you, second place gets to hold your head in their lap and gently stroke your face, third and fourth place get to sit next to you and each hold one of your hands, everyone else has to watch from the sidelines. (alternate option for that here)

The first kiss would also be in front of everyone else, so the others can stop it from "going too far", and wait for it to be their turn. You'll be kissing non-stop until they've all had their turn (in the order they previously fought over, of course.)

I have no clue who would win though! Superman would be the obvious answer, but if they're allowed to use (tiny, non-lethal amounts of) kryptonite? It could be anyone... Who do you think would win? Or who would you want to win?

[dazed-and-confused23]

Nesting Habits

Hawks knows that you might get upset with your things going missing, but he just can't help himself.

Hawks x Reader

Warnings. Bird behavior. Might come off a little creepy, but he's got nothing but good intentions. Love confessions.

The moment you step away from your desk at the end of the day, Hawks floats over and snatches the cardigan you'd left behind and holds it up to his face. The material is soft, and with no one left in the office, the hero is shameless in the way he buries his face in it. The orange cardigan smells like you, all sweet honey and spicy peppermint. Keigo can't get enough of it.

You'd been his assistant for a long time, a couple of years now, and Keigo had fallen head over heels for you in the first couple of weeks of knowing you. But the two of you had hit it off so well that Keigo hadn't wanted to ruin the wonderful friendship he'd built with you. So here he was, being a petty thief and stealing your clothes to be used for his nest back home.

This first time, it'd happened, was a complete accident. Keigo had invited you over for drinks at his apartment after work, and you'd forgotten your sweater that night. Hawks told himself that he'd give you it back the next week when Monday rolled around, but somehow, the pale purple knit had ended up in his nest, and it just looked so perfect there that he couldn't bring himself to give it back.

It was downhill after that, and over the next few months, Hawks has stolen three cardigans, four pull overs, two shirts, and even a scarf. You'd only made a fuss once after he'd taken the softest UA pullover, and Hawks had reluctantly returned it after noticing how upset you'd gotten over it.

But now he's got this nice orange one to add to his nest, and he couldn't be happier. Hawks jumps up, fully intending to fly straight home, when the life is scared out of him. Blood drains from his face, and his wings puff out before snapping against his back. His golden eyes go wide, and the smile he paints on is full of guilty embarrassment.

"Hi, _."

You flick your eyes from his and down to the cardigan he clutches like life line. The dots connect in an instant, and you point an accusing finger at him.

"You're the thief," you chirp, and Hawks just laughs nervously, shoulders hunching up around his ears.

"I am," Keigo admits and makes no move to give back your cardigan. You don't seem upset, more exasperated, and satisfied that you know who'd been stealing your things.

You drop your hand and cross your arms, expression turning curious. Hawks clutches your sweater, nose full of your unique smell for comfort even when it's you that's staring him down. Hawks feels like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Why?"

He jumps at your question, and his winds perk up. Maybe...

"It'd be easier to show you. Can I?" He asks. Keigo shouldn't be so surprised when you agree, but it still fills him with nervous excitement at the thought of showing you his nest. You follow the hero to his office and then out to the balcony where Hawks hands over the cardigan after you assure him you'd give it back once they got to his apartment.

The flight over is quick, but Keigo relishes every second he had you clutched tight. He loves the feeling of you pressed so close and loves how much you trust him to keep you safe from falling. Keigo loves you, and hopefully, after today, you'd love him too.

You shuck off the orange cardigan and hand it over as promised when they two of you land on his roof. Hawks leads you down but stops before he opens the door of his bedroom. His cheeks are pink, and he's got to take a deep breath to give himself some courage. This was worse than facing a villain!

"I've told you how my quirk works, the bird instincts and all that," He continues when you give him an encouraging nod, "Well- another thing I do is nest? And your clothes are kind of a part of that. They - you're scent - comforts me. I know it's weird, and I'm sorry that I stole your things, but I just couldn't help myself!"

Before he could lose his nerve, Hawks shoved open his bedroom door and let you investigate for yourself. You walk inside, and Keigo follows you close behind, golden eyes wide as he watches your face. His bed is a mess of thick blankets and clothes. You can see all of your missing clothes, each one carefully placed and tucked in the perfect spot.

"I'll give your things back, _. I'm so sorry. I'll even transfer you to a different hero agency if you want. It's hard telling my bird brain no sometimes, and I didn't think you'd mind too much since I didn't do it all that often, but then there was the UA pullover incident, and you were so upset, and I hate seeing you that way. But I still couldn't stop cause you smelled so good, and you're so freaking perfect, and I just. I love you, alright?"

Keigo stares at you, face flushed and chest heaving from all his pent-up emotions, and wait. You're getting really close, and wow, your eyes are so pretty, and you smell so good.

"Are you going to kiss me or not, Pretty Bird?" You say, and damn. That's definitely something that Hawks can do.

After he kisses the life after you, and after you've donated two other scarves to his cause, you pull Keigo in for a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Love you too, Keigo."

[kitsune-oji]

I just read what it'd be like to be Dia's spouse, could you do something similar for Mammon please?🥺👉👈

Married to Mammon

With pleasure, my friend! ♡ though tbh some of these also apply to when you're just in a relationship with him too, without being married

Mammon x gn! Mc (you/yours)

What would your life look like as Mammon's spouse?

You're literally married to your best friend, but in the best way possible

Mammon is awed every day when he realises that he's married to you, like he's actually your husband!!! The fact you love him is so miraculous to him, it's amazing

Wealth finds you in abundance, though not all of it is money. Your wealthy in love and happiness too and you're not doubting for one second that it's because of Mammon('s influence)

The places he frequents to gamble at all know you by name and point you towards him the second you walk through the door. He will ask you every time if you'll blow on his dice for good luck... It's on you if you indulge him or not

So you still live in the House of Lamentation with him and all his brothers? Most likely, because it's just much easier and cheaper and as dysfunctional as their relationships are, Mammon would miss them all way too much... At least after a while

On more than one occasion you catch Mammon bragging about being married to you and proudly showing off his ring. No, it's not that one or the other, it's on his Ring Finger, you dingus (cue him hitting the other demon upside the head)

Whenever Mammon gets his paycheck from his modeling job, he's always trying to do smth with you or get a present for you, just anything to make you happy and show you how much he loves you because he does and he can't believe that you reciprocate his feelings but he definitely doesn't want that to change, ever! So he's gotta keep you happy!

Talking of his modeling job, Mammon invited you to come watch him a few times and (if you went) after a while the whole set knew you, even if maybe they hadn't seen you yet. Hell, Mammon talks about you so much that they feel like they actually know you already before ever seeing you, let alone talking to you.

They let you in to watch his gigs if you want to stop by and watching your chemistry, the photographer asks you to join him in a few pictures and if you're up for it and like it, you may find yourself on and in some magazines in the future...

Since he doesn't have a last name, Mammon will take on yours....and he beams whenever someone calls him Mr. (___)

The crows know you and the demons know you too

The crows see you as a very important person they have to protect and they wanna make you happy too, so they bring you things you may like. With time they also learn what makes you the happiest and frequently get that instead of other things

The demons on the other hand know you as Mammon's Partner, as part of his family and even the dumbest demon who would otherwise look down on Mammon because he's too soft, won't mess with you. Because if they did, everyone knows that Mammon ruin not only their career, but their face (or body depending on the severity of the offence) and their life as well ♡

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

Daily Dose of Solas-Posting Time/just a love of what love can achieve I guess?

I think a lot of people in this fan space struggle to distinguish the apparently very blurred line between "oh look, this poster likes Solas and must therefore condone murder to achieve one's goals", and "rad, she understands that this is a game in which characters do things she would never approve of in real life but given the fact that these are all tiny people on a screen she enjoys extrapolating larger themes"

And for those of you in that second camp how freaking beautiful is it that we get to see one of the oldest saddest elves go on an absolute bender and still get the chance to make things right because he has a friend/lover who knows his heart and refuses to let him hide from it any longer.

Varric disapproves of trying to save him at the end of Trespasser and clearly at some point within the next eight years goes "you know what? This sassy nerdy passionate guy was my friend once and I believe in what he could be if he gives up on the self-destructive path he's chosen"

Harding struggles to fathom what the Inquisitor sees in a disingenuous clefted egg but knows that if nothing else she trusts her friends and for all my critiques of Veilguard I do think Bellara gets a baller of a line with the "trust your heart, it is a good one" banger. Harding may not know exactly how she feels about Solas (and yeah that is so fair) but she knows the Inquisitor's heart is a good one, and if they're trying to save him, she trusts it. She chooses to believe that in an ever-darkening world there is power in restoring a little bit of light.

Your Inquisitor has the option to be like "wow this guy was my friend, occasional confidante (and potentially the most brutal love of my life), fought alongside me and guarded my life as I guarded his, and spoke so wistfully of things I did not understand at the time but now realize came from a place of deep grief. The way he's acting now stems from hurt and trauma and I know it'd be easier to just stab him with his own dagger but what if what if what if..."

And if you're able to look at his story at its simplest (if you're able to see past the broken man and into the spirit of wisdom he once was, if you will) it's really just the grandest version of pre-EA Bioware's bread and butter theme for at least a few companions per game: even the most broken people are capable of changing themselves and ultimately the world for the better if those who can reach out a hand do. And the Inquisitor only has the one hand to reach out, in fact they only have that one hand because of the very man they're hunting down, but if they can find it in themselves to extend it, damn. It brings a broken man back to his feet after an absolutely brutal confrontation of his past and helps him stand tall and face what's coming next in a way he wouldn't have been capable of otherwise. It lets Solas, who is at his absolute lowest, know that someone he strongly admires, who can relate to the challenges he once faced as the young leader of a massive movement, sees the parts of him that just want to do what's right but can't quite remember how anymore.

And to someone who hasn't fought in a war or forged the tools that wrecked entire civilizations, sure maybe that wouldn't hit as hard. But who amongst us hasn't betrayed the core of who we are to make others happy and regretted it? Who hasn't charged down a path that sent thorns digging into their skin with every step because to stop and turn back means facing everything they've done to get there? Means admitting they were wrong? Who hasn't hit a low and crawled their way back to themselves again because that hand came down and refused to let go?

To someone like that, like me, it can make all the difference in the world to see it go down on that tiny little screen.

Mmmmm there's just so much power in having even one person who sees you self-destructing at your worst and goes "not on my watch" and I love that most of these games have brought us such beautifully simple yet meaningful ideas in so many different ways.

[wayfayrr]

I just remembered how sometimes I yell at Link when he does something that annoys me, like if I’m trying to walk across a really skinny plank but he accidentally walks off/falls off, or when I’m trying to run from an enemy but he starts climbing a tree instead. I’ll just be like “Link no! Get off the stupid tree omg ur gonna die!” Or “Link! Stop falling off the platform! I just wanna get to the top already!” Would he be mad at me for yelling at him? Sad? …..?

Then there’s an unrelated issue that isn’t his fault that my controller sometimes drifts, so he’s walked off cliffs before bc it was drifting slightly forward and I didn’t notice. The most annoying one on my controller is when the motion control stops working and I’m trying to aim my bow and arrow but it freezes so I have to quickly manually flick the analog stick so it works again but by then I might’ve already gotten hit. Is he mad at me for these problems?

Oooooooh! Then there’s the whole having to scroll thru the whole menu options when u wanna attach something to ur arrow. Ugh that takes forever! Like I wanted a bomb flower but now I want a keese eyeball and that’s all the way at the other end of the menu! Is he frustrated w that? (Ik technically it’s “paused” when I do that but let’s say he’s still conscious when I’m doing that it’s just everything around him is frozen in time. So like he’s just crouching there waiting for me to finally attach an eyeball lol).

Or what about the sages?? I love them all so much but trying to find them (and the right one when u have all of them) and activate their ability is sometimes annoying. I’ll want Sidon’s shield for a second but instead Tulin does his gust. Or when I’m just trying to pick something up he’ll blow it away lol. What does Tears think of that?

Sorry this got so long. I understand I had like 4 ideas in this ask, they all just came into my mind at once lol.

I think he'd get a bit upset over you yelling at him, he gets that you're worried that he'll get hurt but it's not always his fault? sometimes sure but it's just starting to hurt his feelings more than anything. when you're playing he's just a puppet in your hands and as much as he loves you he's still 'a person'. if you struggle to even put him anywhere near that position soon then well, it's not like you can yell at him again for it right? he doesn't want to upset you after all.

I don't think that he'd ever blame you for console defects like that, hell he could even be behind a good number of them, it's not your fault the game is buggy. The only time he could ever be bothered by it is is you close out of the game because its so buggy, if the game is getting to the point where it's bordering on unplayable he still can't blame you but it'll get under his skin so much more. is he not good enough for you? is his game not good enough for you to work through the glitches? don't be surprised if you can't exit the game or turn off your switch for a bit :3 surely nothing has gotten corrupted or broken beyond repair right? No he hasn't sabotaged it himself, how could he - why would he?

The menu is honestly pretty sucky at times for throwing items and sticking them to your arrows, besides from reshuffling it to get what you need to be closer to where you start scrolling from. I think tears is most likely to get irritated at the games own design for that, because it'd be so much easier for him to just grab what you needed from his pad to fuse it onto one of his arrows but he just can't, he's stuck having to abide by the rules of the game, watching you struggle with the admittedly awful UI Nintendo cursed him with. If he wasn't so stressed about you resetting him - or worse reporting your 'faulty' copy of the game. he'd take his own steps to make it better for you - maybe he'll even do it earlier if you carry on struggling like this. He just needs to get more confident about it <3

the sages probably mess with him so much, he wants you ALONE and now he's constantly got these guys running around him?? he's gotta interact with them to try and get his abilities (lwk this could make him more jealous of wild who gets to have you one on one all of the time) And most of the sages abilities are optional anyway so I mean, maybe you won't notice if he simply disables them right? he won't delete them outright so if you miss them you can use them but if you don't reactivate them? maybe he could.... so then it'll be just you and him, just link.

[enkas-illusion]

Two Can Play a Game

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Geto Suguru x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: suggestive, Gojo being a menace, roommate shenanigans, wingman!Gojo, violent games, friendly banter, geto’s huge fingers…

Chapter Summary: You are stuck with your awful roommates on their Saturday games night. You were ready to be bored to death this weekend but what you were not expecting was being stranded on Geto’s lap by the end of the night.

Author's Notes: gamer!Suguru rotting my mind. Let me know if I should make a part 2! If you enjoy it, feel free to like, reblog or comment; I’d love to know your thoughts. Thank you for reading! 

-Nanami's Munchkin

Part 2

Being roommates with Satoru and Suguru was nothing short of an adventure. It always felt like you were taking care of two cats who actually did pay rent but were a pain in the ass to handle. 

The tamed one was Suguru, the black cat with black cat energy. Satoru, on the other hand, was worse than the orange cats, a menace, making your life miserable. However, you wouldn't have it any other way – a cat person always loves the little devils immensely, despite the hell they raise.

Saturday nights were game nights for the boys. Usually, Shoko, the fourth person in the house, your white dove of peace between the guys and you was out for the weekend. The dove in question, however, had betrayed you to flock in someone else’s nest so you were left alone with the men-children screaming over a stupid game.

It's true that you don't know what you've got till you don't have it anymore. You think back on all the times you open a bottle of wine, enjoy a smoke on the balcony, and share the gossip of the week with Shoko. 

You weighed your options – scrolling through reels while silently drinking your wine while pretending you don't exist would be a lot easier than spending the night witnessing your two roommates behave like toddlers. 

So you did just that, flopped down on the armchair scrolling through feed, sipping your wine quietly. You'd downed more than half the bottle before boredom hit, causing you to look up at the TV to see what Suguru and Satoru were up to. 

The amount of fun they were having playing a violent and gory game made you cringe. For them, this was no less wholesome than a fluffy princess ride at DisneyLand.

“Seriously guys, is this fun to you? You just go around killing people!” Ideally, it'd be better to let it slide without the unnecessary commentary, but this is far from ideal so you let the boredom and booze speak for you.

“Oh and Genshin is not violent at all!! Sweet little Hillichurls getting hit by a meteorite just for existing is fun, right?” Satoru mocks back in an instant without taking his eyes off the game.

“I don’t think you know Hillichurls to be calling them sweet and little,” you argue, offended that your favorite game was dragged into the conversation.

This time Suguru replies,”Maybe you are just salty because you don’t know how to use a console.”

Taking full offense, you challenge, “I would've learnt it ages ago if I wanted to…”

“What's stopping you? That way you can play your precious Genshin on the console as well. It will be fun. Then we can all have a game night.” Suguru's tone is condescending but you understand him well enough to know when to take the bait.

“Hard pass! No way I wanna play with you both. It would only make my hair whiter than this dumbass.” You say pointing at Satoru.

“Huh! The feeling's mutual darling. I’m not psyched about you ruining our sacred games night. Also, you might finally start to look a bit attractive with hair like mine.” 

Satoru’s comment ticks you off, you know better than to let it get to you but you're too far gone to think straight now. So you put down your wine glass as you stomp to where they're sitting, ripping out the console from Suguru, settling in the tiny space between the two manspreading, “You’re on, bitch!” 

“You really think you can beat me?” Satoru looks amused, Suguru has a similar look on his face.

“Just shut the fuck up and start.”

As the game starts, you realize how dumb this decision was – you'd walked right into the trap. Not only do you not know how to use the console, you don’t even know what this game was and what you needed to do.

“I’m going to find youuu~~” Satoru says in a creepy singsong voice that makes you shriek as you try to run in the game. 

Suguru just lies back on the sofa laughing at both your antics. No matter how much you tried to believe the cat analogy exclusively applied to the two, everyone knew you were one too.

“Found you!” Satoru squeals as you nevertheless try to hide and fail miserably. And before you know it, your screen turns red with the words DEFEATED on it.

You pout at Satoru and he says, “Aww, that was no fun. Let me heal you so we can go again.”

“Really! You can do that?” You ask, looking up to him with glittering eyes.

“Satoru!” you hear Suguru suddenly scold, causing you to stare at him with confusion. And before you can ask what was wrong, you hear a few more gunshots from the game. Satoru, being the absolute worst, continues to shoot your already dead character.

‘SatoruAlmighty_89 WINS’ the screen displays.

“Suguru! Satoru is so mean!” You look at Suguru with those puppy eyes that you know makes him melt. Your final trump card, given that he may or may not have called that look adorable in the past.

“‘Toru, your name doesn’t really look that well on top of the leaderboard… kind of used to seeing my own.” Suguru pokes at his best friend just to rile him up.

“Bitch please… Do you wanna go again?” Satoru takes the bait.

“Nope. Not me… her.” he says, tilting his head in your direction.

“Hmm?” you simply give him a confused look. But before you can decipher the meaning behind his words, he wraps his arm around your waist to pull you to him in one swift motion till you’re sitting on his lap. Your face turns hot as you quickly slide down to adjust between his parted thighs instead – trying to keep the atmosphere pg-13, what with Satoru in the room.

Suguru, on the other hand, couldn’t care less – he leans forward till his chest is flush against your back, resting his chin on your shoulder. His huge arms wrap around you, enveloping you into him as they hold the console in front of you. 

“Okay, let’s defeat him, shall we?” he whispers sweetly in your ear, “Let me take it from here.” you feel his hot breath behind your ear, making you blush harder than a rose.

Satoru gives you both a disgusted look, “Ugh… get a room!”

“Somebody’s bitchless.” you tease Satoru. It wasn’t hard to sense the sexual tension that had always lingered in the back ever since you had started living together with Suguru – sure, you had two other roommates but you never wanted to tear the others’ clothes off in a fervor. Shoko had once teased you that ‘if one could try cutting the sexual tension with a knife, the knife would grow blunt due to how thick it was.’ 

As you’re laughing at the now-pouting Satoru, you twist your neck to look back at Suguru, giving him a big grin that makes his heart do summersaults. 

Suguru’s fingers encompass your dainty ones as he guides them to the console. As the guys start playing the match, you move your fingers to the side of the device, letting Suguru take control as his fingers rapidly slam and rotate the buttons. You can’t look away from his hands even when the game begins. His fingers look so sexy moving around the console that you can’t help but imagine how they would feel on you.

“Pay attention to the game, sweetheart.” he whispers into your ear. His words catch you off-guard as your eyes shoot up to the screen, embarrassed that he’d caught you staring. His comment puts you into a deeper daze but you shake it off to focus on the screen, still you find your mind wandering, barely caring about the game. 

He’s so into the game that his chest often presses against you as he tries leaning forward when a battle gets too intense. At one such moment, before you can talk yourself out of it, you shift your hips back ever so slightly to press against his crotch. You swear you feel his otherwise restless movements still for a split-second but he doesn’t let his composure falter since he had a match to win.

Suguru actually manages to win as his name makes it back on top of the leaderboard. You cheer out loud and turn around to hug Suguru, but not before tilting your head to blow raspberries at Satoru.

“What are you… like five?” Satoru complains. You simply bring your hand up to do a blah-blah gesture, rolling your eyes at him dramatically.

“It’s not fair! It was two vs one.” Satoru pouts.

“Go cry about it somewhere else. A win is a win!” you tease him further. 

Satoru gets up from his place and walks off saying, “I anyway don’t play with cheaters.” 

If you weren’t reeling in the high from your win and laughing at Satoru’s antics, you would have noticed the wink he gave to Suguru before retiring to his room.

You’re still laughing as you watch him go back to his room and shut the door behind him with a ‘night, cheaters!’

When it gets quiet, you suddenly become super aware of the way you’re still perched comfortably in Suguru's lap. 

“You need to actually teach me how to use this thing.” You say as you try to break the impenetrable tension, fumbling with the console before tossing it on the sofa, beginning to get up.

Before you can move any further, you’re pulled right back into Sugurus lap as you let out a tiny squeal at the unexpected move. Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his clearly evident boner, hard against you.

“Did you really think I'd let you off so easily after you pulled that little stunt during the game?”

[trashogram]

I've been seeing posts about how people would re-write Helluva/Hazbin, and it got me thinking about how I would re-write it as well. And... I have many many thoughts about all the characters and the writing 😅😅😅

But your posts and our talks have been a huge inspiration for me, and I wanted to share my thoughts with you! If you're interested ^^ of course, feel free to ignore this if it's not your cup of tea. I wish I could get into it all in one ask, but that'd be impossible. So I'll start with an easy one.

Striker and Hell's Assasins

It'd be easier if I do this in bullet points, so-

As we all know, Striker was perfect in his debut. An antagonist who does have an ego, but who also had some good points about Hell's society and great chemistry with the cast. That was until Viv blasted an atomic nuke onto his character...

I think i would keep Striker mainly the same as he was in Harvest Moon, and of course, not use him as the butt of jokes. I'd also want to flesh out deep-rooted insecurities he could have had and explore on his past, and maybe turn him into an anti-hero or lawful villain by the end of the series. I think your suggestion of his family being enslaved or killed by royalty is a great idea for his past and motives! And it explains why he lives in the mine shaft; they royals destroyed his home, and they would never look for him down there.

Which is a perfect Segway into my thoughts on how assasins work in Hell. Obviously, with it being Hell, that's probably a thriving business. However, not exactly for imps. As we are told, the only businesses an imp could hope to start on their own are related to agriculture. Otherwise, they are right alongside Hellhounds only working for others. As such, in my re-write, Blitzø and his crew and Striker are the only imp assasins in Hell, and that is a big reason on how they all have gained a reputation for themselves. Striker and I.M.P. have had to face mockery and prejudice in their rise to the top, and could become two sides of the same coin.

In my re-write, Striker would try to disguise himself in some way when he goes out on hits, if he can't snipe them from a distance like Stolas. Why? Well, Satan has heard whispers of an imp hybrid who is killing royalty. The rest of the assasins in Hell? They can all kill each other for all he cares. But his lowly creations going against the system? That is unforgivable. And that is how the wanted posters for Striker got posted everywhere. Striker's poncho and bandana would become core pieces of his design in my re-write, since those are how he conceals his identity. And his wanted posters depict a mysterious silhouette that's too fast for the camera to capture his likeness.

That's why in my Biker AU, people aren't too sure who Striker is. They know him as the showboating but hardworking farmland for hire that often disappears without much explanation, but they don't know he's a wanted assasin. And why him being an assassin is such a shock and a terrifying thing for Bella. (But on the other hand, as i type this, I realize this is a plothole; why isn't Striker trying to be cautious in town as well if Satan and possibly the goetia are after him? If you post this, I'll comment on it when I figure this out 😅 or just add it to my next ask if you'd like ^^)

And what about I.M.P.? They are notorious, yes, but they aren't wanted by the hierarchy of Hell (yet). They haven't killed any royalty, so the goetia and the sins are ok with just sweeping them under the rug. Sure, Blitzø started his business, but the system is rigged against imps already. He and his team were doomed to fail from the beginning. Makes you wonder what would have happened if Striker chose to stick with I.M.P.

I hope this covers everything? This was a more experimental/easy one I guess? But with how much of a tangled mess Vivs world is, this feels like I'm trying to comb through knots 😅 if you want to see more, I'm planning on doing asks like this for the majority of the HB cast and episodes. I'm thinking of doing Millie and Moxxie after this one.

I hope you enjoy reading these! And of course, if you have any questions, I'd love to hear it!

This 👏 is 👏 how 👏 you👏 do 👏 it 👏

You’re adding structure to Hell and building it up as a world with rules and generalized behaviors yet also adding mystery and intrigue (like Striker’s disguise and the inability to capture his likeness for the Wanted Posters) and stakes!, to the story and characters.

I love that I.M.P. and then Striker, although he’s an unknown entity to Hell’s citizens/royalty, are the only imp assassins. And of course they get written off (not including Striker) bc they’re seen as so lowly and a non-issue — until they eventually get more than just gossip across rings, inevitably.

With this, there would be momentum building up something like I.M.P. being brought before Satan and the court of Sins. It would have real weight to it, instead of being an excuse for romantic melodrama.

(I also love Striker potentially being an anti-hero! That would be fun to explore and see how it would come about, since he’s so inherently vicious.)

[perpetualexistence]

Sea Monster AU: Agony of a Sea Witch

It sure has been a while since I've made a post for this AU, hasn't it? I know I said I would get this done in time for Mermay. But it's only technically two days away, so I consider this to be Mermay in my heart. That and it's Pride month so now this is just my contribution of incredibly toxic yaoi to Pride month!

What's with the song choice you might ask? And the title? Don't worry about it. Noah'll be fine. Probably.

But yeah this is like 3.5K words so I hope you guys enjoy my blood sacrifice Sea Monster AU update!

Content warnings: Murder mentions, toxic relationship, Alejandro being manipulative as per usual

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With his new body comes new risks. He can't afford to have his legs suddenly turn into tentacles on land. It'd be even worse if they transformed in front of Alejandro. So he's not leaving this cove until he's convinced he can leave it without instantly outing himself.

He starts with turning his legs to tentacles and back. A lot of it has to do with wanting them to transform. Which is good because otherwise this would be a pain.

As the adrenaline fades away, he's more cognizant of how weird it is to feel each leg split into four separate limbs, and then come together again. He shudders at the sensation, but over time he gets used to it.

It takes him all night until he's finally comfortable enough to make his way back home. He sneaks back in at one point only to be caught by an older sibling. They express their concerns about his recent behavior. He manages to get them off his back for now, but they're clearly still worried.

It's summer break at this point, so Noah has plenty of time to learn more magic. He lies to his family about taking summer classes so they don't question his time away. He tells the same lie to Alejandro so that Alejandro doesn't insist the two spend more time together.

That lie he's much more worried about. Not only because Alejandro is more volatile, but also because he knows that Alejandro is going to ask him about how his revenge went.

The intent lie Alejandro believes, so he won't have to explain why he did it. But he'll have to lie about how much he enjoyed it to cater to Alejandro.

Except it doesn't really feel like a lie. Because there's a part of Noah that knows he did rather enjoy it. When his mother asked him whether he was getting a job over the summer or staying at school, he almost admitted right there that he wouldn't need to get a job. Their biggest money problem is gone.

Noah has been considering a lot of people 'problems' now. It's easier to feed a problem to a ravenous sea creature than a person. He knows, on a logical level, that this is wrong and is a very concerning line of thought. But he's been through so much that he feels like he's done more than enough to earn it.

When he goes to talk with Alejandro, the large eel does pick up on his hesitation in taking pride in his kill. He's...surprisingly sympathetic towards Noah's reluctance. He admits that doing it in cold blood for the first time hits a lot harder than simply watching it. It's not something for the faint of heart.

It's why Alejandro was so happy that Noah was willing to try it out. Once you get over the morality of it, it's such a delightful, vindicating experience. Alejandro would love to be there one day to witness Noah finally let loose. Noah deserves it, truly. However, Alejandro won't force it. He's not that crude. If Noah does want to go further down the path of might then Alejandro will be happy to guide him along. Until then, Noah can take his time with it.

Noah leaves that conversation with zero suspicions from Alejandro, but so many questions. The way Alejandro phrased it was oddly sweet and felt like an earnest attempt to comfort him. But it was still encouraging murder. Even if it was arguably justified. And satisfying.

At least it made it clear that shrinking Alejandro was the only way to go. Once he was less dangerous, Noah could figure out what to do with him after.

But first of all he's got to figure out this new body of his. Knowing how to switch between human to cecaelia won't mean anything if his new tentacles keep slapping him in the face every time he tries to use them. Or using suckers to attach onto rocks when he did not mean for them to get adhesive. The retractable fangs are rather annoying since he keeps cutting his tongue with them. Not to mention the excessive amount of saliva that seems to come with it.

The most difficult part is learning how to operate eight lower limbs instead of two. It's also the most exhausting. Chef's training had done little to improve his endurance. Even worse since he's underwater where his whole body feels sluggish.

Slowly but surely, he starts getting better at swimming with his tentacles. He doesn't have the finest control over them, but he can swim with them and go in the direction he actually wants to go in. He isn't sticking to everything he touches with his tentacles, either. He considers that progress.

He'd still like to know how being an octopus was supposed to protect him from a giant electric eel. Sure, he can swim better now. That doesn't do much against someone who can easily outpace him. Or just zap him.

He knows the basics about octopi. He knows they can make ink clouds to confuse their enemies. Which might work for about five seconds until Alejandro goes around the small cloud. The more useful thing is the ability to camouflage. It'd only work when standing still. But if the ritual to shrink Alejandro means he has to go out to open waters, he NEEDS a way to hide himself. He wouldn't be able to afford Alejandro catching him collecting something, or worse, with tentacles.

Through trial and error, Noah finds out that his whole body can go invisible, not just his tentacles. All the better for him. He anchors his ability to camouflage with his desire to disappear. It's an easy feeling to pull up. He usually wants to stay out of most interactions, and his desire to get away from all of this is enough to get him invisible. The harder part is stopping it. Because it means letting go of the feeling. Noah can't really calm down to let go of it because Alejandro has him on high alert at all times. He just forces himself to think of something else, and it works.

All of this is just taking more time away from preparing the ritual. He hasn't even had the chance to read over it properly. He very badly wants to jump the gun, but that'll risk getting caught in a body he can barely control. But being unprepared for the ritual, and the lives it'll probably require given this book's track record so far, is also a huge risk. And during all of this, he's still going on hunts with Alejandro. Risks all around, and Noah feels like he's this close to snapping completely when he's pulled in different directions.

So when Owen sends him a text asking if he wants to hang out over the summer? You know what? Sure. Why not?

Noah deserves a distraction from all the things he's putting himself through. Is this distraction also risky? Yes. But it's not as if he's going to go out in the water with Owen. There's plenty to do in this incredibly isolated town that only advertises its incredibly visible beaches with the extrovert who has constantly been inviting him to going to another yacht party in Alejandro's hunting grounds.

God Owen would be so screwed if Noah wasn't setting up Alejandro's menu.

At least Owen doesn't push so much into what's going on in Noah's life once Noah makes it clear that's not happening. It's nice to actually have the ability to say no. Not the illusion of choice Alejandro brings. It's easier to forget all the things he's done when the most he has to worry with Owen is avoiding a nose milkshake.

Well, there is the fact that Owen is also still insisting on Noah coming along to group hangouts. More people means more lies and more suspicion. But it also means more chance to be in the background conversation. Not do anything.

Noah misses not having to do anything. So against his better judgement, he says yes.

He lets himself get swept into the hurricane that is Owen, Eva, and Izzy. He appreciates Eva not asking any questions from him and just letting him exist. Plus watching her go off on people is fun. Izzy, for all the rabid energy she brings, is more than happy to make all the choices for what they're going to do. He's more than happy to just let her. Owen's both enabling all the chaos and making sure everyone's doing great. He doesn't question Noah wearing a scarf during the humid, sweltering summer. He just scoops Noah up when the heat exhaustion starts getting to him.

And Noah? He's just there. There's no expectations that he does anything. He snarks and they don't complain about his personality.

It's such a nice break from all the murder and deceit. It takes away from the time he could be spending to solve this problem. But if he doesn't give himself this he's pretty sure something's going to snap inside of him. So he fits it in between the magic and the hunting and the hanging out with Alejandro that the eel still insists on.

Hanging out with Alejandro does make hunting more bearable. And Alejandro more bearable. Alejandro still enjoys reading with Noah and bringing him smaller treasures.

Still, now that Noah's started to hang out with other people, he can how conditional spending time with Alejandro is. There's a stark contrast between being with people who could kill you on accident with their shenanigans, and being with someone who would kill you on purpose for trying to pull shenanigans.

It nags at him. Constantly. He doesn't want it to. He wants to relax for once in his life. He can't have that with Alejandro like this. He needs to stop distracting himself. No matter the cost, he has to go through with this. He's done too much now. He just has to keep playing this game a little longer.

He doesn't realize Alejandro's picked up on anything until they're on their way back from a hunt.

The conversation started off simple enough. Noah was making snarks about the people Alejandro had thrown into his gullet. They were long past having any sanctity for the dead.

Alejandro was pushing the boat that was carrying Noah along...and then he began to slow to a stop. They were nowhere near the shoreline. It was just open waters.

Noah asks what's going on. He's trying to sound as casual as possible. Maybe if he keeps faking it, he'll actually begin to calm down.

Alejandro promises it's nothing major, really. It's about a few things that have been bothering him, that's all. He's noticed some new things about Noah.

At first Alejandro thought they were great changes. He does find Noah's scarf cute, and he's very fond of Noah's new interest in Alejandro's passions.

But he's also noticed that their conversations have started to become more awkward. Like Noah isn't completely there for the conversation. He's just curious about what could be on Noah's mind.

Noah's immediately concerned as he now has to come up for an answer for this. It's just him thinking about school, that's all! And the whole murder thing! Giving that serious thought. That's the only thing on his mind.

Alejandro smiles at Noah. He wants to believe Noah. He does. But there's one other thing that's bothering him.

Noah's scent.

The day after Noah came back from his first kill, there was something new to it. Something charged. And salty?

It's very strange. Alejandro was willing to be patient for an answer from Noah. To an extent. The real problem, though, are the newest scents on Noah. They're all human scents. From different people.

Noah would have to be especially close with these humans for an especially long time for their scents to intermingle. Yet Noah hasn't mentioned anything about other humans. Given what happened the last time Noah was getting close with other humans, Alejandro is very interested in knowing what explanation Noah has for this.

Noah knew he shouldn't have let Owen bear hug him so much. Or let Eva carry him around no matter how convenient it was. Or let Izzy constantly invade his personal space. Even though the only way that he could have stopped any of them would have been not to be near them at all.

This was on him, really. For letting himself get distracted. Now he has to figure out what to tell Alejandro. If he tells the truth, he'll be dooming his friends. Alejandro will force him to make an impossible choice. It's what he always does.

He's racking his brain for something, anything to get him out of this mess. Alejandro is waiting for an answer. He does not want to be in this situation. He would give anything to get out of this situation. To just disappear.

"Que es esto?"

Noah looks up to see Alejandro looking down at him. There's some mix of confusion, horror, and anger in his eyes. It's worrying since Noah hasn't given a response yet. His eyes are also darting around Noah. Around?

Noah brings his gaze back down to the boat to figure out what Alejandro is looking at.

Then he looks down to realize that on instinct, he's camouflaged with the ship.

Oh.

No.

Noah's body acts before he can think twice about it. He jumps into the water. Staying on that boat would be a death sentence. At least this way he has a chance at getting away and figuring out SOMETHING.

He knows Alejandro is calling for him and he doesn't care. He's never transformed while invisible and he doesn't want to take any chances now. He's barely gotten any distance until he feels the hairs on his arms raise.

Invisibility means nothing to electrolocation.

Noah is grabbed and is pushed away from the surface. Noah lets out a shout as air bubbles escape him. He switches to using his gills since Alejandro wouldn't notice those anyways. He has a clear view of the fury on Alejandro's face as they swim deeper.

Alejandro demands an answer NOW. He won't return Noah to the surface until Noah shows himself and agrees to explain. Alejandro will keep him here until he drowns if he must. Because he needs to know how Noah knows magic.

Noah thrashes as he tries to get out of Alejandro's vice-like grip. Alejandro doesn't know about the gills, but he'll figure it out eventually. The most he can do is buy himself some time. He's terrible with coming up with plans on the spot but he's got no choice to learn through trial by fire.

He refuses to respond. Speaking would expose his gills. He can hide somewhere and wait Alejandro out if Alejandro thinks he needs to go to the surface for air.

Alejandro is still demanding an answer. How does Noah know magic? That would explain the new scent, but not where Noah got it from. Alejandro has scoured these waters thoroughly. He's the only sea creature here.

So how? And why? They've been having such a good time together. Alejandro didn't even know he could enjoy spending time with a human. Yet he waited with bated breath for Noah's visits. He had been looking for every excuse to keep Noah alive when he fully recovered from his journey here.

Then, when Noah suggested these hunts-

"What?" Noah asked. Holding his cards to his chest be damned. He could NOT let Alejandro try to make Noah out to be the bad guy.

"When you suggested the hunts." Alejandro repeated. He seemed too agitated to even notice that Noah shouldn't be able to speak underwater.

"I didn't suggest them! I never asked for this! You made it clear it was help you or die!"

"I never said you had to help me. I only said you had to give me a reason to let you live."

And no. No, that's not how that worked. That can't have been how that worked. Noah can remember the threat on his life.

"You made the offer to help me hunt all on your own. You could've offered only to spread my legacy and I would've accepted it. You chose to be just as vicious as me. And I was so delighted that you chose me over your own kind."

That's not how that happened. Because if it was, then Noah could have avoided all of this. If it was, then Noah might have been able to reason with Alejandro from the beginning. Noah wouldn't have any blood on his hands. He would still be a good person. Instead of whatever he is now.

It takes more effort than he dares to admit to keep his voice flat. "If it was a choice this whole time, then why didn't you tell me?"

Alejandro paused for a moment. He looked like he wanted to search for Noah's expression. There was none to give with the camouflage. "I thought you'd be happier this way."

How dare Alejandro? How dare Alejandro?

He can't stack the cards against Noah and then blame Noah for not playing the game right. He can't say Noah could have communicated better when he was the one who made Noah feel as if he couldn't say anything at all.

Months of pent up aggravation are bubbling to the surface. He wants Alejandro to hurt. He wants Alejandro to bleed. It's the only way this monster will understand the extent of what he's done to Noah.

Noah feels the transformation happen, and he welcomes it. He's revealed as legs become tentacles. The blue rings on his tentacles glow bright and fierce. He can feel Alejandro struggle to re-adjust his grip. Alejandro is transfixed by the glowing rings. Good.

He uses his tentacles to push at Alejandro's hand to give him room to escape the grip. It's working somewhat. It gives him enough room to sink fangs deep into Alejandro's finger. This was for every time the damnable thing had ruffled his hair. Every time he was given a playful pet or a light jab. Every agonizing moment of patronizing.

He can taste when he pierces through the skin. He keeps going. As hard as he can. Noah's saliva is pouring into the open wound. It's small, but it's something.

Alejandro shouts in pain but doesn't let go. Noah can see the water around Alejandro's tail crackling with frustrated electricity.

Then, Alejandro's grip loosens. Noah bursts out of it. Finally, his sacrifice was good for SOMETHING. He tries to swim away from Alejandro's range.

Alejandro uses the same hand as before to block Noah's escape and bring him back to face the merfolk. Noah is expecting to be squeezed again and tries to get off of Alejandro's palm before it happens.

He does escape. Alejandro's hand closes around where Noah had just been a couple of seconds ago. Alejandro looks...confused. His hand is trembling. He reaches for Noah again, but the hand is slower this time. Much easier to avoid.

"What...what did you do to me?" Alejandro asked.

Noah's rage is marred with confusion. Alejandro's arm slowly falls to the side. Limp.

That's when it clicks for Noah. He'd never looked up the exact species of octopus he was. He'd been far too preoccupied with other matters, and he thought it would never come up. Yet here he was, with glowing blue rings and a bite chockfull of saliva.

Except it was never saliva. It was venom. And now they're both finding out how deadly Noah had made himself.

The fear in Alejandro's eyes is satisfying. Noah's finally managed to turn the tables on him. Even if he never wanted it like this. The plan had never been to kill Alejandro. Just to contain him. Alejandro would have killed him if he thought he had to. So whatever's about to happen is just going to happen.

So long as he keeps telling himself this, he can ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

He can't ignore the gray mass of flesh barreling towards him.

Of course.

Noah should have realized it was always going to end like this. He's not going to be fast enough to outswim that tail. He's been martyring himself this whole time. Might as well go all the way. At least the few people he cares about will be safe from his stupid, horrible mistake.

His last thought is wondering if there ever was a way this could have ended differently.

The tail hits him. Electricity courses through his body.

He screams, and it goes dark.

(For all of you curious, Noah's a blue-ringed octopus! I would have shared a picture earlier, but I didn't want to spoil the surprise in case you knew about it already. Here is a lovely little picture of an incredibly deadly octopus the size of a golfball that can kill a human in minutes!

[thezombieprostitute]

Frayed - Part 3

Summary: There are so many new things happening in your life that the only two things you can count on are your boyfriend, Mace, and that your life is almost always in danger. 

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Implied death and violence. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N2: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: the electricity is out, let's keep each other warm

Part 2 -- Part 4

Series Masterlist

It's been a few months since the scare at the ice cream parlor. You've significantly calmed. Well, at least you're no longer looking over your shoulder every 20 seconds and you don't wince every time you walk past the parlor. Not that you did much walking. Mace was insistent on driving you to and from work. As much as Teach pushed, the priority for the family was still finding out who put out a hit on Steve's wife. You can't say you blame him. You just had someone try to intimidate some information out of you. She's got someone literally gunning for her!

You've gotten into your routine with work and Mace's security measures. Your job has been getting, maybe not easier, but certainly more tolerable. Dr. Beck is very patient with you for the grant writing aspect of your job. Practically begging for funding was something you'd never had to do with Wilford & Gilliam. But, then again, they weren't a non-profit. You hated having to ask for funds to replace machinery that was outdated almost a decade ago. It was definitely your least favorite task and you always needed to shut out as much peripheral interference as you could.

When you take your lunch break in your "office", you also take your phone off Do Not Disturb. There were several texts from Mace and a missed phone call from Teach. Your breath hitches as you listen to the voicemail.

"DC we've gotten word that Franco is in your area," Teach's voice informs you. "I haven't told Mace yet, I'll let you do that. For now I need you to stay out of sight at the clinic. I'll call again when we're sure it's all clear."

You feel the tears form in your eyes at the panic building in your chest. More than that, it's the frustration. You were doing what you knew to be the right thing. You were saving lives and making sure people were held accountable. And you've lost so much for it! You lost your salary, your apartment, even your health and well being! As much as you've heard people talking about taking comfort in doing what's right, standing up for others, you can't help but mourn what you used to have.

You start sobbing, months and months of pent up frustration and anger finding their way out. To your credit you don't throw anything, knowing you'd just hate yourself if you did. You desperately want to call Mace, have him come and hold you, comfort you, but if he shows up, he might get spotted by Franco and ID'd as part of the Family and then he'd be in even more danger than usual. It just all feels so unfair.

By the time Mace picks you up, you've gotten the all clear from Teach. You don't tell Mace about it. It'd just make him worry all the more and there's really nothing he can or could have done about it except put himself in danger. You decide to just plant a smile on your face and ask him to hold you extra tight tonight.

As soon as you're in the passenger seat Mace asks, "what's wrong? Did something happen?"

"Huh?"

"Your eyes," he points to your face. "You've been crying."

"It's just been a long day, AC," you sigh. "Please, let's just get home."

He nods and pulls away from the free clinic. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No," you shake your head sadly. "It's just...life. You know?"

He nods thoughtfully. You're so lost in trying to hide your pain you miss the brief look of pain on his face. He knows how much your life has changed since the two of you reunited and he's scared he's not enough for you. That you're going to change your mind about moving away and go on to bigger and better things, just like after high school.

The rest of the trip home is spent in silence.

Back at the apartment, Mace is quick to start cooking. You hug him from behind and thank him for taking care of you. He looks over his shoulder at you, "it's the least I can do, DC. You've been the best thing to happen to me in years." You squeeze him a little tighter. "I hope you always know that," he adds. He feels you nod against his shoulder and smiles.

You finally let go of him when it's clear he needs to move around to do the cooking. You settle onto the couch and put on one of his hoodies. Your shoulders are finally starting to relax when the power goes out.

"Shit!" Mace shouts from the kitchen. You grab your phone and turn on the flashlight to help him see so he doesn't burn himself. "Thanks, DC!" he huffs as turns off the burners and gets things secured. He sighs, "I'm not gonna ask you to hold that light the entire time so we'll just leave the cooking for later."

You nod and he gets out his own phone. Together you find some emergency candles and get them lit so you can save on battery life. Mace goes to the window and looks out. You hear a soft "huh".

"What's wrong? The entire block out?"

"No, it might just be the building," he says slowly. He pulls out his phone and makes a phone call. "Jake, can you check my building's area for power outages?" A pause. "No wi-fi because the power is out." A longer pause. "Shit. Was there any activity on Walker or Franco recently?" A short pause before his head shoots up and he looks at you. "We'll keep ourselves locked up, just make sure someone's doing a sweep and send Hal to check the usual suspects for the building losing power."

He hangs up the phone, his eyes never leaving you. "Why didn't you tell me?"

You don't bother trying to deflect or play dumb. "Because what good would it do? You'd be putting yourself in danger if you came to the clinic off schedule. And by the time you were picking me up, I'd gotten the all clear."

His jaw clenches and the muscles in his neck tighten. "You should have told me."

"Again, what would be the point?" you ask, your voice starting to rise.

"I could've posed it as taking you to a surprise lunch date or something and gotten you out of there."

"Then he'd know you were associated with me and that could put you in danger either as leverage for me to talk or because they now know who you're working for! There was nothing that could be done so I didn't tell you because I didn't want you hurt or stressed out by the futility of knowing!"

"Because then you wouldn't be suffering alone!"

"I'm already suffering alone!" you scream. "You didn't lose your high paying job. You didn't lose your sense of safety. You didn't lost a damn thing! I did! And it fucking sucks because I don't want to hurt you but I need to grieve, but I don't want to stress you out, but I need some fucking release, but I don't want to be even more of a burden on you, but I---"

"Burden?" he interrupts. "When have I ever given you the indication that you're a burden?"

"Oh come on, Mace," you scoff. "You took on a protection duty you were never qualified for. You abetted a murder to keep me safe. You drive me to and from work practically every day and it's very much out of your way to do so! You cook for us and check in on me. I have to be a burden."

The candlelight is strong enough you can see the pain written all over his face. He strides towards you, back you against a wall, and puts his arms on either side of your face.

"You're not a burden," he whispers hoarsely. "I don't do these things because I have to. I do them because I care about you and want to take care of you." You sniffle, trying not to cry again. "I know you lost so much in all of this. I've been...I've been scared you'd think I'm not enough of a reason to stick around. That you'd realize you miss your old life and you'd leave to another country where you could have that life again."

You chuckle, "so we definitely both need to work on our communication skills."

Mace nods, "I also think we could use a vacation. I've got so much time saved up, I've just never had a reason to use it."

"A vacation sounds nice," you nod. "Just the two of us. No work stress."

Mace opens his mouth to say something but then his phone rings. You nod your assurance for him to answer it. He listens for a couple minutes but finally nods and says, "alright, thanks Hal. And make sure to thank GBH for me." A pause. "I know he creeps you out but do it for me?" Another pause. "Thanks." He hangs up.

"No sign of foul play," Mace reports. "I forgot to look out the other side of the building. The buildings behind us are the ones on our power grid, not the ones out this window." He shakes his head, "I feel kinda stupid for calling them up."

"Another sign you need a vacation," you add. "Gotta get your head back on straight."

He nods and pulls you in for a hug. "In the meantime, how about we spend the night keeping each other warm under the blankets? At least until the power comes back on."

"That sounds like a plan."

Tagging:

@alicedopey; @chibijusstuff; @delicatebarness; @fluxxdog; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @jamneuromain; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @lokislady82; @rebekahdawkins; @ronearoundblindly; @texmexdarling; @thiquefunlover63

[immoralimmortals]

ok so what if, hear me out Takara was pregnant (gasp) nah like I want to hear your thoughts on this

So all cards on the table...miracle of life, wonderful, wonderful thing... Yeah, I know all that. But all the same, pregnancy to me is largely a form of body horror. A lot of this is going to be on the fly since it's not my cup of tea. So putting that aside and trying to make the subject warm and romantic, here are some thoughts on what it'd be like if Takara was pregnant:

You KNOW they dote on her. Absolute kings. There isn't a day that passes where ten separate Akatsuki members come up to her, if not multiple times, to make sure she's okay.

Itachi swears she's radiant, glowing like she's holy. You've heard this all before in other headcanons on this site-- he's over the moon with love. Glued to her side, yet somehow not overbearing. 10/10, I'd let this man be with me during my morning sickness. Takara will want for nothing. Probably becomes the most overtly sweet and romantic in al the time they've known each other, gently stroking her skin and kissing her head. When it comes to the point where she's "showing", he's quick to tell Kisame to do tasks for Takara whenever she's about to do something, and he has to be reminded she's not useless and it's good for both her and the pregnancy to continue being active.

You thought Kisame was awkward and cautious *before*? He's at the point where every single little touch, regardless how small or where it is on her body, is so, so purposeful. Nothing he does is haphazard. He will clear paths for her if necessary. He's her knight, her guardian, placing himself between her and the rest of the world. Definitely at one point rests his head on her belly and cries. He's very quick to answer to Itachi's orders and further enables inactivity. It is a lot easier to use his body to interact with other things than it is to use it to directly touch her; he's up for anything. He'll mow down a mountain just so she could go for a walk without having an incline. He will walk to town to buy her flowers every single day.

Hidan gets...quieter around her, especially as the pregnancy begins to show. He's more observant than before. Still gets into his usual attitudes if he doesn't understand or see something coming ("What? You seemed FINE a second ago! What do you MEAN you're gonna throw up!")...but he's certainly taking all this in. What does it mean to Jashin if someone brings forth life instead of takes it? He holds his prayer beads and feels the sigil between his fingers, only shutting his eyes to pray once she is surely asleep. He'll wonder a lot, eventually out loud, what the baby is going to be like, who they'll grow up to be, what it'll be like to have one around. He won't say it, but he's nervous as hell for that part. It's a whole new human being.

Kakuzu is so fucking stressed. This man is the closest in the group to being a normal-ass man with a normal-ass job and goal. He is trying to coordinate enough income for eleven fucking people to live at least somewhat comfortably. You're going to add a BABY? Good lord he might break. That being said, he's a worrywort that's always a little bit on edge. If someone is fucking around with her or the pregnancy too much, he will actually hit you. ...But not until he took you outside, she doesn't need to see it and stress herself or the baby. He is also especially concerned about accidentally being too rough. She'd have to convince him to touch her or sit next to her. Once she does? He finally relaxes, and he's in heaven. There's a whole world that fits right in his arms. He has a second chance not just with her but this child to have a life worth living.

Deidara is the most to treat her like...a normal human being undergoing a body change? I'm not saying he's uncaring, more like he's the best at not losing his fucking mind. Most willing to just hang out and not make it weird, let her do things on her own. Other people-- no, literally everyone else-- will see her reaching up in the kitchen cabinet for a mug and will scold him for not jumping to do it for her. He argues otherwise-- and it makes sense-- so therefore the other person gets pissed off. He tells Takara to be grateful for what he does for her independence, and she genuinely is, rewarding him with a kiss on the cheek that makes him bright red. It makes him stutter and try to move on so things are normal again. I think like Hidan-- even more so actually-- he's very curious about what it'll be like once the baby is around. It's fun to see her change little by little, day by day, too.

Sasori doesn't like change. That's kind of his whole bit. He isn't looking forward to the noise, the filth, the troubles of a baby and then later another growing person. So the pregnancy is kind of a precursor for that. Once it's clear that yes, this baby is coming, he has to make peace with it. He's the one that's most attentive about her physical health and body. He'll notice any change in color of her skin-- reddening or paling-- catch on to ANY morning sickness before she even says a word. She'd have to remind him that regardless of if the stretch marks stay, they're a part of her right now, and with that explanation he begrudgingly appreciates them. He eventually becomes entranced by the idea of teaching the child what he knows.

Konan is...wistful, I think, as well as in awe. She's kind of like Itachi in that she's very present, very gentle. But Takara being pregnant gives her a lot of...thought. Surely when she was born-- when Nagato and Yahiko were born-- their parents, too, had the best intentions in the world. A piece of her is afraid. The best laid plans can still fall into ruin, the intentions of being good parents and giving a happy life certainly did not happen to her and her friends. That being said, she finds comfort in being a pragmatic planner. She's the one that gets a routine for Takara both prenatal and then postnatal, the one that strategized how the baby is going to be educated, what kind of food they need, etc. So if nothing else-- if anything and everything goes wrong-- they at least have a plan to follow even if they panic. She also, like Itachi, finds her radiant in this time. I can see her sitting with Takara and holding her hand for hours on end, just finding peace in how much she loves her right now.

Nagato picks up where Konan leaves off on the whole planning thing. She is not to be alone at any time. She wants to go for a walk? Kisame, walk ten paces ahead, Kakuzu, ten paces behind, Deidara, go up in the trees. If she so much as scrapes her knee, there will be consequences. This will NOT be fucked up. He won't say it, but he loves her even more right now than he ever thought he could. He thinks that despite all her flaws-- any human has flaws, of course-- Takara will be the best mother to grace this universe or any other.

"Tobi" is so, so excited. While Konan is sitting next to her, he's on the floor, wrapping around Takara's legs, talking endlessly about how much fun the baby is going to be. He's also excessively careful and protective, which is in earnest at heart but also being played up so no one second guesses he's an idiot. He will throw away a cup of tea if he deems it too hot for her to drink, uncaring if it hits and spills on someone else. In private...he's quieter. I can see him putting on her socks for her as she has trouble bending, and he does it nearly reverently, looking up at her through that mask with a gaze she can feel as adoring. Obito is feeling every emotion possible. He's afraid, he's overjoyed, he's shaken, he's happy. This situation is the culmination of everything he's come to want while Takara has been here. He looks at her carrying this baby like she's Mary, mother of Jesus.

Zetsu is the funniest one. He doesn't get it. Like he DOES-- there'd be a joke where he'd say he doesn't get it and Tobi begins to explain where babies came from and Zetsu would yell at him to shut up-- but he doesn't get it. He's like me, the author, in the sense that like...if you really want to experience parenthood...why are you making a whole new baby? There are so many babies out there who NEED a parent. And you're going to fill up that slot? Humans are really genuinely so selfish, what the hell. That aside, he's at least mindful of her, in a physical and medical sense. He asks her questions, in the rare moments she is alone, and he genuinely listens and tries to engage. I think he would, finally, in at least a little way "get it" when Takara invites him to put an ear to her stomach and listen.

Everyone is excited to see who the father is, regardless of how much they say it does or doesn't matter.

[beatricebidelaire]

Beatrice has been inside his office for the past 48 hours. The dark shadows under her eyes hint that she has barely slept, and her hair is messy in a way that her adoring fans will probably still find beautiful but she'll never let them see. Beatrice presents a certain image in public - aside from when she's on stage and performing, that is. She looks like she might've cried, earlier. Much earlier. Now she just looks exhausted.

The concierge Frank has tasked with sending meals to her reported back that the meals were all finished, which is good. Under the circumstances, he thinks it's probably the best they could ask for.

"I finished it," she says, her voice a little hoarse. He looks down at the desk, and sees a suspiciously thick bundle of papers. Bizarrely, his first thought is that "I'll need to remember to buy more" and then, the implications hitting him, he says, slowly, "This is your letter?"

"Yes," Beatrice says simply.

"………….. all of it?"

"All 200 pages," she confirms, quietly.

He stares at her.

It the situation isn't so bleak, he thinks, this whole scene would be rather comedic.

"I owe him an explanation," she explains.

This, he thinks, is not what most people would call "an explanation". He wisely does not say that, and instead asks, "Are you sure about doing this?"

She laughs, a little brokenly, "Not at fucking all. But also yes." She exhales. "I love him. I love him so much but it's - I thought I could wait for him forever, but - every time I see another newspaper reporting his death, every time I -" she cuts herself off. "I can't go on like this. I thought I could, but I can't do this anymore. If I had my way I wouldn't let him run away alone, go on the run alone, doing what he thought was best by leaving me behind, leaving me alone without him. But he made his decision, and I - I'm making mine."

"Beatrice ….." he says, quietly.

She smiles shakily through tears. "I know it must be surprising to find out I'm not actually as brave as I look on the surface. That I'm not brave enough to continue doing this. Waiting for him while the only thing that ever comes anymore is false reports of his death that one day might not be false anymore."

Before he can respond, she quickly continues, "This is of course where you agree and say it's completely surprising. Because I always look so perfect."

He sighs. Even in this state, she insists on putting some kind of an act. Even while admitting truths, admitting her vulnerability to him, she needs to do so in a dramatic way, as if to distant herself, as if it's easier to make it into a performance of some kind. Not that he can point any fingers, probably.

She catches his glance and says, warningly, "Let me have this. Indulge me. I'm just about to be broken up with my boyfriend."

Well, if she doesn't want him to acknowledge her vulnerability, so be it. "You're the one breaking up with him," he reminds her.

"Exactly!" She snaps. "He'll leave me behind but he won't break up with me. So I have to be the one to do it." She shakes her head angrily. "He's so noble, you know? He thinks it's for the best. To protect me. I think J also encouraged this. If only if he's a little worse, if only he's not so noble."

"The Snickets," he says slowly. "Are all very noble." If only Jacques is a little worse, too, he thinks. If only J doesn't think it'd be "stringing Frank along while waiting for Jerome to realize his feelings" to sleep with Frank. Too indecent of a thing to do, in Jacques's mind.

She looks at him, and narrows her eyes. "They really are," she agrees. "Oh, F."

"Shut up," he says briskly. "We're dealing with your problem today."

She huffs. "Get your concierge to send up a bottle of brandy. Wait - two. We're getting drunk tonight. And a carrier pigeon too, so I can get this mailed."

"Are you absolutely sure?" He asks again. "You don't want to send this out while drunk, B."

"It's not an impulsive decision," she says, impatiently. "I've thought it over and I've decided. I just need - to get it over with. Or else I'll never summon the courage." She grimaces. "Plus, I wrote 200 pages. Nobody writes a 200 page letter and not send it out. Then what did I put in all the time for?"

"Sunk cost fallacy," he murmurs.

"Mmm, something like that," she says.

[allwormdiet]

Shell 4.3

In which we finally discuss the locker

Little surprised that Alec is taking the lead on this one, but pleasantly so

And yeah, here we finally get an explanation for powers and triggers and all that, or at least the foundations of it

...Also there's no way that Glory Girl triggered just because of a basketball game, that has to be a crock of shit. What's up with New Wave claiming to be the most open hero team and then coming off the shadiest? How am I trusting these people less than I trust the government capes?

I like that they make a point of reassuring her after her blunder. She couldn't have known, and they know that, and they don't hold it against her. I love these kids.

Brian seems more comfortable smacking Alec around than he does Rachel. I don't think that's a thing of not wanting to hit women, last arc he decked Vista like she owed him money. Maybe it's that Rachel intentionally provokes that reaction and Alec is just kind of a little shit? Idk

Again, I remain utterly fixated on how this is Taylor's one line, the thing she refuses to compromise on ever. I'll buy that she doesn't want outside interference from the Undersiders or other capes when it comes to the bully situation, but it's harder to do that when she never makes a move herself.

This is so. Evil. Like, the false friendship, the rotting tampons, the imprisonment. The fact that nobody who sees this play out even bothers to help her. The fact that she's trapped for hours. If that didn't give someone a trigger event, I'm not sure anything would.

Alec is actually so real for this. Like for all that he was disgusted with the story (which, fair) his disgust isn't with Taylor, it's with the fuckers who did that to her. And Brian agrees with him! Lisa is making a point of not disagreeing, even.

Oh hey, Taylor actually acknowledges her thing with anger and violent retribution. Glad she's cognizant of that, it'd be a whole situation if she wasn't tbh

Actually thank god for Alec keeping up this line of thinking, this might be the most passionate we've seen him get about anything. The runner up is like, him being annoyed he can't keep Kid Win's skateboard, and that's peanuts compared to this. Maybe he's wrong about the revenge thing but I don't know that he is, and he's definitely not wrong about the indignity that Taylor is allowing herself to suffer

I don't think this is half the lie that Taylor thinks it is. For all that she has noble intentions, and I don't doubt she'll do her best with those... I don't think Taylor's drive to be a superhero was entirely selfless. This isn't all truth and justice going on here, this is feeling strong and being appreciated by others and not being looked at like a bottom-feeder.

Wonder when she'll figure that out for herself

Get cared about idiot! Get absolutely blanketed with affection and approval from the people who would absolutely rip your bullies apart if you asked them to!

You know. I think Brian's trigger event is one of the ones I know the least about? I know the broad strokes of almost every other Undersider, but I don't think I know anything about his.

Current Thoughts

Even knowing what's coming, reading through Taylor's ordeal with the locker is so fucking heartbreaking. She could've died in there and the consolation prize she got was not worth the cost of admission, that's for damn sure. Emma Barnes is a fucking maniac for this one.

The stuff about powers and trigger events is a pretty neat concept, and I like how it kind of contextualizes most capes as being fucked up. Like, I'm thirteen years late to the party on this one, but what a fascinating fucking idea to build your superhero setting on.

Alec really shone through for me in this chapter. Maybe I relate as someone who finds it easier to get angry on others' behalf than to be angry for myself, or maybe it's just nice to see him get fired up about something. I like this kid.

...Got work and a family thing today, but I'll see if I can't slip some more updates in. I'll probably read some at least and double back with my thoughts if nothing else