#is everything else about their situations the same as canon? by which I mean

[hauntedfalcon]

candela au where jean was never affiliated with candela obscura and was a full eons scientist, while marion and sean got sort of scooped up by eons the second the war ended and are now in a sort of nightmare hostage scenario because one of them is magic and the other is an extremely capable soldier, (eons: hey mr finnerty maybe you should do missions for us so your good friend mr collodi doesn't get vivisected) and jean is the one assigned as the handler, except hey doesn't she know that one guy from somewhere? surely this will cause No Problems in her professional life as a dubiously ethical doctor

you found it. you found a Winter Soldier scenario for the bottom table 🥰

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (1 - Honey! I shrunk the kids! 18+)

Summary: Wanda accidentally shrinks your kids while trying out a spell that would benefit both of you in the bedroom; Jimmy and Darcy attempt to find out more about the Hex, particularly when they discover a remarkable detail about you. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Tags: Smut, Campy Humor, Language

A/N: I've been working on this series since late August and have finally figured out what to do with it, enough to share it with you all. The story will be told in three parts: Westview (The Missing Town), Pre-Westview, and Post-Westview. This follows some events in WandaVision, but it's very canon-divergent. It's going to be different from my other works (I've never written humor before and I'm quite insecure about that), as this one is very plot-driven but at the same time, still very much Wanda x Reader (especially in parts 2 and 3). Updates will be every Wednesday. Chapters will be 2.5–3.5k words long, except for the ending chapters of each part, which are twice as long. So, without further ado… More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

-

“Honey! I shrunk the kids!” 

Wanda bursts into the basement, apron billowing out like a cape. Except, there's no draft down here; that apron shouldn't be moving like that at all. But then again, considering your wife’s claim, maybe the laws of physics are taking a day off.

You glance up from the miniature model home you’re meticulously working on, unsure if you heard her right. Did she really just say that? 

“You what?”

Wanda, flushed and a little breathless, skids to a stop in front of you. “Okay, so I was experimenting with a new spell, one that was supposed to…” She bites her lip, hesitating, her face glowing a deeper shade of red. “...it was supposed to do something else, but it backfired and... well, it’s not important right now!”

“Jesus, Wanda.”

Your poor, beautiful, occasionally clumsy wife stands there, teetering between a freak-out and a fit of giggles. 

“It was an accident! I didn't mean to!” Wanda shrieks, causing the room to tremble from her panic.

Wanda's powers have always been a wildcard. You can child-proof the entire house in a day, but that definitely doesn't cover child-proofing Wanda herself—especially not when your kids are involved. Luckily, the boys have inherited some special abilities of their own, which leaves you as the sole non-superpowered member of the household. With that in mind, you know better than to panic. Getting worked up alongside her would only escalate things, and you’re not exactly keen on being shrunk next.

“Okay…where are they now?” you ask as calmly as you can manage.

Wanda takes a deep breath and leads you to the living room. You trail her in silence, clutching at composure. It can’t be that bad, right? The distant sound of playful music trickling through the house almost makes it seem like everything’s fine. You hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that you think about it, it’s like your brain has learned to associate that kind of tune with situations that somehow always end in collective sighs of relief.

Sighs, giggles, and applause—sounds that don't belong to Wanda or the boys.

Where are they coming from?

Before your mind can completely sink into the oddities of your life here in Westview, Wanda halts in the middle of the living room. Your eyes dart around, searching for Billy and Tommy, but they’re nowhere to be seen.

“Where?”

“Right there,” Wanda points toward the coffee table, her finger trembling slightly.

You squint in the direction she’s pointing. Next to the TV remote, two tiny figures wave up at you—your sons, each about the size of your thumb.

“Oh my god, they’re tiny!” you gasp, covering your mouth with your hand. You expected them to be at least half their normal size—a size they might grow out of eventually.

“Shhhh, Y/N!” Wanda hisses, pressing her index finger to her lips. “The neighbors might hear you.”

Neighbors. Which usually means just Agnes from next door. There’s literally several meters of spaces between your houses, but somehow, she always manages to hear things she shouldn’t and pries like she’s in some perfectly timed routine.

Wanda kneels by the coffee table, her eyes soft. “I told them to stay right there until we sorted this out.”

The twins start making noises, sounding like tiny bells, though still hard to make out. You pull out a magnifying glass from your back pocket—has that been there the whole time?—making sure your sons are okay. As soon as the lenses zoom in on their faces, you're relieved to see them laughing uproariously, seemingly unbothered by their predicament.

“They seem... happy?” you say, lowering the magnifying glass.

“They think it's hilarious,” Wanda grumbles, her lips curling into a pout.

“So,” you sigh, pushing yourself to your feet. “Any ideas on how to fix this?”  You're tempted to suggest just letting it run its course, waiting for the spell to fizzle out, but you know Wanda wouldn’t go for that. She's fiercely protective of the twins, and you can't blame her—it’s all her handiwork, after all.

Then you hear it—a hiccup. Another follows, and then another, each one a little louder than the last.

Before you know it, Wanda's a sobbing mess.

You cup her face in your hands. “Hey, hey...it’s okay,” you murmur, gently brushing away a tear with your thumb.

Wanda’s breath hitches as she looks at you, her eyes brimming with worry. “What if I can’t fix it?”

“We will,” you promise, looking into her eyes.

A collective ‘awww’ rings in your ears, pulling you out of the moment. What the hell—where did that come from? You've had this creepy feeling of being watched lately, and it's only getting worse.

Wanda brings you back to focus when she nuzzles into your palm. “Oh, Y/N, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You give her a small, lopsided grin and plant a kiss on her forehead. “Good thing you’ll never have to find out.” Something passes over her eyes as soon as you say it, but it vanishes in a split-second, replaced by a moment of inspiration.

“Wait,” she bursts out, stepping away from your embrace. “I think I have an idea.”

She heads straight for the fridge, and you trail after her, holding your breath.

“I’ve been trying to reverse it, but my magic isn’t cooperating. It’s like... it’s tangled,” Wanda mutters, yanking things out of the fridge.

You scowl, arms crossed, watching her. “Tangled? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. The more I try to fix it, the worse it gets. Like it has a life of its own,” she says. she says. After a few more seconds of rummaging, Wanda finally grabs a tetra pack of chocolate milk—the twins' favorite.

“I’m hoping this will do the trick,” she says, giving the carton a shake.

You cock your head, clueless on what’s going on. “Honey, what’s going on?”

Wanda mumbles, barely glancing up as she vigorously shakes the carton. “Just doing what it says—’Shake well before serving.’”

You roll your eyes, muttering, “This woman...”. Then louder, you ask, “I mean, what’s the chocolate got to do with our tiny children?”

Wanda stops mid-shake, a look of realization dawning on her face. “Oh, right,” she slaps her forehead. “You can’t read minds. I keep forgetting,” she chuckles, setting down the carton with a sheepish grin.

There it is again—a chorus of laughter from somewhere far off. Your mouth twitches at the sound—it’s really starting to get on your nerves. You make a mental note to bring it up with Wanda later.

Wanda gathers herself, then pitches her plan. “Instead of directly casting a spell on the twins, I think it’s safer to enchant this chocolate milk.” She picks up the carton again, giving it a final shake. “The idea is to infuse the milk with a spell that will gradually restore them to their normal sizes.”

You nod, beginning to understand what she’s trying to do. “Sounds less risky than zapping them with more magic head on.”

“Exactly,” she agrees, her eyes lighting up with excitement. You’d swear she’s getting a kick out of this macabre parenting hack—kids and all. The background tune keeps playing, like a promise that the universe won’t let things turn to shit. You’re wondering if maybe Wanda hears it too.

“This way, the magic is diluted and can adjust more naturally with their systems. It’s like... sneaking the cure into their bodies,” she says, snapping her fingers, red swirls of magic emanating from them to the carton of milk.

“I'm so proud of you, baby,” you say, leaning in for a quick kiss which she happily accepts. “For finding a fix, I mean. The whole shrinking our kids thing? Still not great.”

–

“What kind of spell do you think Wanda was going for?” Darcy asks, her eyes fixed on the credits rolling across the screen before it fades to black. She’s really gotten into Wanda’s little show, a welcome distraction from the freezing depths of hell that is New Jersey in November. Though exciting things are finally happening to her, the timing couldn't be worse. 

“No clue,” Jimmy mutters, his attention glued to the laptop in front of him. It’s been two days since Quantico sent him to look into the bizarre case of a missing town—a phenomenon almost unheard of in the 21st century. Upon arriving, they discovered that the town in question, Westview, was enveloped by some sort of anomaly—or a Hex, as Darcy has started calling it, referring to the hexagonal shape of the barrier encasing the town. 

Around the same time as the discovery, S.W.O.R.D. agent Monica Rambeau was quite literally sucked into the anomaly by accident. The only breakthrough has been Darcy Lewis’ detection of the signals, providing them with a window into the mysterious shroud, even helping them identify some of the show's characters as actual residents of the town.

But overall, they're still desperately trying to piece together why this is happening and how to stop it.

Darcy peeks over at the data on Jimmy’s screen. “Find anything new?”

Jimmy sighs in frustration. “No, not really. Everything we dig up just adds more questions instead of answers.”

“Like what, for instance?”

Instead of answering directly, he slides a thick file across the table toward her. “See for yourself.”

Darcy catches the file and starts flipping through it. Murmuring, she says, “So, Google finally returned search results?” The stack of papers is downright daunting. Jimmy’s right—any mountain of information would raise more questions than answers.

“No, not Google,” Jimmy corrects her. “Stark's highly confidential database did. The woman Wanda's married to in Westview? She’s not in any public records. Turns out her records were wiped clean two years ago.”

Darcy looks up, puzzled. “Why would Stark's company have this?”

“Just read, Darcy. It’s all in there,” he says, turning his full attention back to his research.

Darcy frowns slightly and begins scanning through the pages more attentively. It takes her a few minutes to piece together the information she's reading, with her mind going in different directions and still burning with curiosity about the spell Wanda botched.

Finally, she reads aloud, somewhat incredulously, “Subject was recognized as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s youngest marksmanship prodigy prior to recruitment by Stark Industries following the dissolution of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Subsequently provided tactical support on multiple classified operations in conjunction with the Avengers initiative.”

She sets the file down thoughtfully. “Kinda reminds me a bit of Romanoff or Barton. Total badass. I hadn’t pegged Maximoff for that crowd.”

“What crowd did you have Wanda filed under?” Jimmy asks, just out of curiosity.

Darcy’s gaze drifts off, a dreamy smirk on her lips. “Honestly? I always pictured her—or anyone for that matter—swooning over someone more…mythical hammer than tactical espionage.”

Jimmy snorts to himself at Darcy's whimsical take and says, “Of course, you’d say that. Thor's everyone's type.”

“He’s yours too?”

“Yeah, why not,” Jimmy shrugs, his tone more reluctant than sarcastic, which only amuses Darcy more.

“So,” Darcy begins, “Wanda's settled down in New Jersey, married to a woman? I mean, good for her. They all deserve a break. Maybe even an early retirement.”

Jimmy lets out a long, tired sigh, like he's just about done with everything. Darcy notices and raises an eyebrow. “What now?”

He barely glances up. “Like I said, everything’s in there. Just keep reading.”

Darcy groans but goes back to the file, flipping through the pages again. She’s about to make a snarky comment when something catches her attention—something that has her eyes practically popping out of their sockets.

“It… it says here Y/N’s dead.”

“That’s right,” Jimmy responds without missing a beat.

“Not snapped five years ago. Dead-dead.”

“Yep.”

Darcy stares at the page, disbelief all over her face. “That can’t be right, can it?”

Jimmy finally swivels his chair to face her, looking as tired as he sounds. “That’s what I’ve been trying to wrap my head around for hours. If aliens and superheroes are real, maybe bringing someone back from the dead to star in a sitcom isn’t so far-fetched, right?”

–

You carefully pull the blankets up over Billy, smoothing his hair and whispering a soft good night. Tommy’s already half-asleep, but you make sure to tuck him in just as snugly, brushing a kiss on his forehead. Wanda stands in the doorway, watching you, her heart swelling in her chest. You were so clueless when she first had the twins, but now, being a mother just seems to come naturally to you. 

And you pulled it off in a week, while the twins stretched into six-year-olds just as fast.

“Honey,” you call softly, noticing the way she’s lost in thought. “Aren’t you going to say good night to our boys?”

Wanda steps into the room, giving each of the boys their good night kiss. You pucker your lips, silently asking for your turn, and she playfully swats your arm, whispering, “Not here, baby.”

You pout, giving her your best puppy-dog eyes, which only makes her smile. Without warning, you grab her hand and hurriedly pull her out of the boys' room, making a beeline for your bedroom. Wanda’s laughter fills the hallway, and just as you reach the door, you suddenly sweep her off the ground, lifting her into your arms.

Wanda lets out a shriek, her laughter infectious, and you can’t help but grin, even as you let her thump onto the mattress—a sloppy, graceless drop. You follow her onto the bed, rolling onto your stomach to peer down at her, still sporting that stupid smile.

“So, about that kiss you owe me,” you whisper, hovering closer, teasing her with your proximity.

Wanda nods distractedly. “I think I can manage that,” she murmurs, and then her lips are on yours.

It starts simple and sweet. Though soon, her tongue is gently nudging your lips apart, and it quickly becomes anything but. Her hands slip down to your back, pulling you close until her heartbeat hammering against yours. You break away, lips trailing down to her neck, exploring every dip and hollow, your tongue darting out to taste her skin. When you hit that spot just behind her ear, the one that always drives her wild, she gasps.

“Don't start something you can’t finish,” she warns, her voice already thick with want.

“Who says I won't?” you shoot back with a wolfish grin.

You both fall into a familiar routine, as easy to slip into as the back of your hand. There’s no hurry, just the two of you moving languidly—whispering against skin, giggles turning into sighs and breathy moans. Sometimes, being with Wanda feels like a desperate need, as if not having her completely would literally be the end of you. But it’s moments like these that are your favorite—the ones where you’re barely even trying, yet she still comes apart at your touch, at the mere feeling of your fingers on her. 

Eventually, you both settle down, a contented sigh escaping you as you curl up against Wanda, your skin slightly damp with the effort of your love. You like this, being the little spoon, hiding your face in her neck like you’re hiding from the world, though you vaguely recall a time when it was usually her in your arms. 

As you’re staggering on the edge of sleep, Wanda’s fingers gently massage your scalp, her lips dropping soft, pensive kisses on your forehead. You're almost out, but one last question keeps you from drifting off entirely.

“Wanda, that spell earlier that shrunk the boys—what was that about?” you mumble, your words slurring into the dream nipping at your consciousness.

Wanda’s laughter rumbles through her chest, nudging you slightly from your drowsy state.

“Come on, tell me,” you coax, giving her side a playful pinch to keep her talking.

“It’s embarrassing,” she mumbles, her face turning a delightful shade of pink again that spreads down her neck and chest. Her coy reaction wakes you up some more. As a twisted kind of payback, you run your tongue rough over her nipple, snatching a sharp gasp from her. Moving up, you hold her flushed cheek, making sure she’s looking right at you. Your thigh presses between hers, and it doesn’t take long before she’s wet and ready again.

“Are you going to tell me, or do you plan on sleeping with a wet pussy tonight?” you whisper, brushing your lips against the corner of her mouth. Under different circumstances, Wanda would scold you for your crudeness, but right now, she's too worked up to care. Your dirty mouth has always been one of the most irritating yet irresistible things about you. Even having kids hasn’t changed that.

“I was trying to... enchant your...” she starts, but then your hand tightens on her butt, spurring her subtle grinding movements. By this time, she’s practically dripping onto the sheets, her thoughts scattering as the tightening sensation below her stomach builds.

“My what?” you push, smirking as you watch her fumble for words. You hoist her leg, resting it on your shoulder, laying her wide open. You slide two fingers inside her, fucking her slowly while your thumb brutally circles her clit. As she hesitates to answer, you hook in another finger, drawing a sharp cry of pleasure from Wanda. Your gaze stays locked on your wife, a part of you as surprised as she might be at your boldness tonight.

All day, she’s haunted every corner of your mind, fantasizing about stealing a quick, desperate moment while the twins are asleep or at Agnes’s. But there’s been something—an unnameable restraint—holding you back from indulging those wicked impulses. It isn’t until the boys are asleep, the house quiet, that those invisible chains start to loosen. That’s when you can finally allow yourself to desire Wanda the way you really want to. The way you’ve always been meant to.

“Your... clit,” Wanda finally spits out, seeing you've drifted off, stuck in your head. “I thought I could make it... well, longer. Like a...” She chokes on the words, too embarrassed to finish.

“Like a cock?” you throw out crudely, looking down at her impishly.

Wanda nods, mortified but also a little defiant. “Wanted you to fuck me with it,” she mumbles, finding her backbone now that the secret's in the open.

“I am fucking you,” you whisper hotly right into her ear. “But if you want it like that, all you have to do is say the word.”

Wanda clenches around you at the thought of doing it like that in the near future, her breath hitching. “Please,” she mewls, the word dripping with need. 

“Good girl,” you growl, cranking up the pace as you drive your fingers harder inside her, making her gasp and arch towards you. “You can come.”

With a choked whimper, Wanda surrenders, her body seizing as her orgasm washes over her. She soaks your wrist, the clear fluid trickling down onto the sheets, but you don't stop, pushing through every pulse of her release until she's quaking, utterly wrecked beneath you. You patiently wait until her spasms subside before slowly pulling your fingers away.

Wanda's hand shoots out, stopping your movements. “Stay,” she implores, sounding like she's on the verge of tears. You're momentarily startled by her reaction, concerned something might be wrong. Swiftly, you slide your fingers back where they belong, nestled deep inside her.

“Okay, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, pushing back the damp strands of hair sticking to her forehead with your free hand. Exhaustion begins to cloud your senses as you sink down beside Wanda, still keeping your hand where she wants it. 

“I'm sorry for needing you so much,” Wanda murmurs, her voice shaky with tears you can't see, your cheek pressed against the pillow beside hers.

“Don't be,” you mumble, half-lost to sleep as she clings to you more tightly. “I’m here.”

“You love me,” she says, a hint of wonder, of fear.

You nod, lips brushing the nape of her neck. “And you love me,” you murmur back, your eyes slipping shut. “I'm not going anywhere, Wanda.”

“For now,” she whispers to herself, once your breathing evens out in sleep.

Tears betray her then, and she clamps a hand over her mouth to keep quiet. But just before her sobs fully break free, she flicks a finger, a thin red wisp of magic ensuring you stay deep in sleep.

With you unaware, Wanda surrenders to her grief.

[jedi-enthusiasm-blog]

Many people have taken one look at this and inmediately leaped to the conclusion that Jedi forbid emotions. Which is, huh… interesting.

What people don't realize is that the Jedi Order are a religious organization, and as such they have their own sacred texts, such as this meditation mantra (because yeah, that's the only time it's ever mentioned, during meditation).

And the trick about this kind of texts is that they're not meant to be taken literally. You're not supposed to take it at face value, you're supposed to think about it, reflect about it, and then interpretate it. I'm sure the average "fan" hasn't actually thought about it beyond "code bad Jedi evil", nevermind that it's not actually the Jedi Code mentioned in the films.

Since it's a meditation mantra, one used to focus to make connecting with the Force easier, it makes perfect sense that this is how you should feel when using the Force.

You shouldn't be overwhelmed with emotions or passions, you shouldn't act if you don't have knowledge. This is obvious: if you can command the essence of life, then maybe you should actually be in the state of mind to do it.

However, the other lines of "no chaos but harmony" and "no death but the Force" don't fit into this. So, what do they mean?

Here is the other version of the Code. It was seen for the first time in the Kanan comics, and is arguably more canon than the previous one.

(People have called it the Gray Jedi Code, which is hilarious in and on itself and another point in favor of the argument that the so called Gray Jedi are just canon Jedi.)

I'm sure everyone can agree that this one is good.

Feel, but find peace in your emotions. Know nothing, but figure it out. Suffer, but look past it to find serenity. Just like there is chaos, there is harmony. And just like there is death, there is the Force.

But what if I told you that both Codes are saying the same thing?

I know, I know. You probably think I'm crazy, but… what if they're saying the same things, in different ways?

To expand on the interpretation that the first one is how you should be when using the Force (and I admit with my whole chest that this is my interpretation), we can say that the Force isn't naturally things like emotion and chaos. They are only what we bring with us.

That doesn't make them any less real. They are, and they are important, but they are subjective experiences. Everyone will have different emotions, different passions, different things they are ignorant of. Even death, even as it will come for everyone, is something private and personal. I don't know what X person felt or thought when they died.

However, things like peace, harmony and the Force are universal.

Chaos (noun): "complete disorder and confusion." "the property of a complex system whose behaviour is so unpredictable as to appear random"

Dictionary definition, bear with me. "Whose behavior is so unpredictable as to appear random". It isn't random, it has patterns and reasons to happen just like everything else. We simply don't know those patterns. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Just because we don't know something doesn't mean we can't learn it. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. Therefore there is no such thing as chaos, not really, just a pattern, an order, a harmony, we don't know yet. First definition is about human reaction, not anything about the object itself. There is no chaos, there is harmony.

Emotion, ignorance, passion, chaos, even death. They are all feelings, subjective experiences, things that, ultimately, can change as you find new understanding (well, death only happens once and is permanent but you get the point). But inner peace, knowledge (about situations, about people's reactions), serenity and harmony are all universal. They exist, and will exist long after we die, we just have to find them.

And, long as we remember people, as we understand that all lives have left a mark, big or small, we will keep those who have passed alive within our hearts.

Death, yet the Force. There is no death, there is the Force. Or, perhaps…

"(The Force)'s an energy field created by all living things" Obi-Wan Kenobi, ANH

"Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter" Yoda, ESB

"No one's ever really gone" Luke Skywalker, TLJ

Death, yet the essence of living beings. There is no death, there is life.

[dreamerimpossible]

His reaction when you say someone else's name during sex.

Warnings: 18+ content, unhealthy relationships, mentions of death, typical canon violence, threats, toxic behavior, manipulation.

Characters: Michael Myers, Chucky, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Patrick Bateman, Jason Voorhees, Leatherface, Art The Clown, Jason Dean, Alex DeLarge, Kurt Kunkle, Brahms.

Michael Myers

He stops abruptly and looks at you through his mask while tilting his head to the side. At this point, you were extremely scared. I mean, he's still a dangerous killer and all. You apologize profusely in a shaky voice, feeling the lump of despair forming in your throat. He, in a mood of indulgence, takes pity on you and spares your life. He pins you down, though while his thrusts are brutal enough to make you feel like you're going to break, he doesn't care; he's using all his strength on you. It's your punishment for your recklessness. His hand circles your neck, choking you so violently that you genuinely think for a second that he wants to hurt you. He lets go, though. By the time he finishes, you have a sharp pain in your private parts and your body in general and semen running down your thighs. Frankly, it could have been worse.

Chucky

He would stop. There would probably be an argument where he would say other kinds of things to hurt you. He just can't handle it; he has to be the one to please you. He asks you who the person is that you named; if you resist saying it, the argument will get worse, and he will accuse you of cheating on him. So you tell him so that your relationship doesn't get any worse. It's obvious that the person dies, because Chucky is proud and wouldn't like anyone else in your head. If you apologize, stroke his ego, and are constantly pushing each other's buttons to make the sex rougher and more violent. and behave for a while, he will forget, but sometimes he will moan names of other girls to annoy you, which turns the situation into a vicious cycle. You are constantly pushing each other's buttons to make the sex rougher and more violent. He drives you crazy because he moans names of people you detest. In his mind, you brought it on yourself.

Billy Loomis

He stops everything, makes a big fuss, and leaves. He asks you who that guy is and comes out in his ghostface suit that same day to take care of him. After that has calmed his mood a bit, he comes back to your place and menacingly approaches you and says something like, “I’m not forgiving you next time, honey.” As he runs his knife across your cheek, making it clear that he’s fighting with himself not to sink it. He’s in a bad mood for the rest of the night; the only way to ease it a bit is to climb on top of him and kiss his neck, all the while whispering lots of affirming words in his ear and apologizing for being so dumb and careless. Only then, if he believes your words, will he grab you by the waist tightly and push you roughly onto the bed. He uses you to take out his frustrations.

Stu Macher

Pretty offended. Hides his disappointment with a calm, joking facade. It's scary because he doesn't say anything about it, just laughs, and pretends to be offended, imitating childish behavior. He continues to have sex with you while telling you to scream his name and that he wants to hear you say that you're only thinking about him. However, even if you do it and tell him it was an accident, it's there, and it just doesn't go away from his mind until the person dies. He thinks about whether he should kill you too for making him insecure. His decision depends on your subsequent behaviors. If you're not interested in him or he sees strange behavior with other guys, his decision is made; he's not tolerating disloyalty directed towards him (quite hypocritical). But if he realizes it was just an accident, he'll always bug you about it to hear you validate him.

Patrick Bateman

This is a brutal mistake. Seriously, don't do it. Whether it's an accident or not, avoid it at all costs. He'll stop, pull your hair, and ask you who that person is. He gets violent in no time and will definitely end sex by looking at himself in the mirror and not taking you into account, regardless of your condition. He will then leave you there and get dressed, ignore your comments, and leave without saying anything to you. He will come back the next day and still not say anything to you. He gives you the silent treatment and is very hard to convince. I can see him ending it over something like this, as he wants genuine affection and interest bordering on obsession, and if you moan someone else's name, it means you are not seeing him as the only person in your life and your top priority. If he sees you aching for him for a considerable amount of time, he will come back to you. But I would take it with a grain of salt if I were you.

Jason Voorhees

Bad technique too. It's hard to motivate him to have sex, and if he sees you moaning someone else's name, he might not be able to continue. He'll just pull away and leave you alone. He takes it out on quite a few people along the way. He won't do anything to you, but it's pretty sad because he doesn't treat you the same way anymore. He sees sex in a negative light again, and he'll probably never do it again. The only way he'd want to do it is to just get him to give in to his impulses, but that would be hate sex, and he'd be taking it out on you for being weak and not controlling himself. If you get him down on you a high number of times and moan his name convincingly enough, he'll hate himself less and blame you a little less. He'll probably never forget it, but he finds it hard to resist you. Plus it turns him on too much to have the blood he splattered on his clothes on your skin. You'd be a guilty pleasure that he'd slowly come to terms with.

Leatherface

You better come up with your best excuses in record time, because he is not letting you go that easily. He does not know how to deal with anger, and he could do something he would regret against you. So, you try to explain to him what happened, trying not to stumble over his words and without getting nervous (it is a difficult challenge). He will cling to everything that is even remotely convincing that you say; even if it is incongruous, it does not matter; he will believe it. However, you are limiting interactions with everyone until he feels safe, and you will have to deal with his way of expressing his emotions, even if it is sometimes against you. He will forget over time if you make him feel good and behave properly. You make sure you never make a mistake like that.

Art the Clown

Uh… really? Do you have a death wish or something? Frankly, being with him is entirely a game between life and death. You never know when he will get bored and end whatever you have. Saying that person's name will mean that he will seek that person out and make them watch while Art has sex with you and subjects you to many violent practices that will only give you pleasure if he has already corrupted and trained you well enough. If not, it won't even be pleasurable for you. Your screams will be a constant mix of pain and pleasure. Your body will be visibly battered. The person at the end of the situation is very traumatized, especially by your positive reactions to everything they did to you. In the end, Art will obviously make you watch him kill him, and depending on your level of sanity, you will either enjoy it or feel distressed. I don't know; he doesn't care. He doesn't do anything to you beyond that because you are such a good pet…

Jason Dean

He would like to be one of those guys who makes fun of you and just goes on with his thing, but he quickly finds out that he isn't. Someone else's name hurts him deeply; you can see in his features his disappointed and hurt look. However, he quickly becomes manipulative and controlling. He makes you kill that guy by carefully following his plans, and if you don't, it means that you don't love him and that you just took advantage of him and that if you were a good girlfriend, you would do anything to make him feel safe. You probably do want to fall for his manipulations, because the relationship is clearly toxic. You go along with all his plans, and he is happy; he sees it as a sign of love and all that shit. When all that is done, he will fuck you good and fulfill all your whims so that in his mind there is only him and only him. In reality, he fulfills his mission.

Alex DeLarge

He changes his expression immediately; he looks at you with that dangerous look that his victims give them. He tells you to back off immediately if you want to get out of the situation unscathed. His dominant voice would have you under control, so your mouth automatically obeys, and you apologize several times while you try to explain to him that it was just an accident. He will play with you and tell you fatal scenarios that could happen to you if he decides to leave you and take away his protection. In reality, he is just playing with you; it is not that your little mishap hurt him that much; it is just that he needs you to understand that he is in charge and he will not tolerate you straying or betraying him. After that he will make you fulfill a fantasy, like having sex in a stranger's car while others drive by or something like that; he will also make you yell "Alex" many times to make it more embarrassing. He enjoys your nerves quite a bit, and he feels paid. However, that very night, he and his droogs are visiting the person you named. That's non-negotiable.

Kurt Kunkle

It cracks me up because I don't even know if anyone still loves this character, but anyway, he's added to my list of slashers. Well, he can tolerate recording you having sex; he can even feel comfortable seeing his followers grow thanks to seeing you naked, and he can act all feigned kindness to anyone who hits on you. But he won't tolerate you thinking about anyone else, much less blurting out someone else's name while you're with him. He's pretty crazy, so they'll have sex in public or something while he humiliates you in front of everyone for being an inconsiderate bitch. He laughs like a maniac, creating chaos and chaos. You literally couldn't even remember that day because of all the unusual things that happened. He doesn't apologize; at the end of the day, he doesn't even talk about it; he literally took out his frustrations by causing massive chaos. Well, that's what you get.

Brahms

He throws a tantrum and forces you to calm him down. He manipulates you and makes himself the victim. He will use this to have more freedoms with you and let you do whatever he wants, basically. No matter what you say to him, he won't want to understand. He just shamelessly enjoys the way you ride him afterwards and tries to get him to forgive you that way. In reality, he will never forgive you because he prefers to make you feel guilty all the time so he can keep getting things out of you. The only way out of this is for him to do something worse (which isn't hard) and you get mad at him and the roles change. But it's always like that. It's a vicious circle too. He silently wonders who that person is. Just give him attention and do everything he tells you for a while. He will think he won. However, you have to control his tantrum well; otherwise, he might get too out of control with his own strength.

[howlett-n-morgan]

More Than Words

2. Questions

Logan Howlett x OC!Reader

Series Summary: Having lived for over two hundred years and never having the privilege of human touch is the biggest burden imaginable... until someone comes along with the healing ability to withstand the touch of death.

Chapter Warnings: still a lot for now but: mild language, canon typical violence, mention of murder, death, mutant experimentation, and a depressive episode briefly described. Logan is a warning, especially here

Chapter Summary: The bad dreams have ceased, but many questions lurk in their place, and the meaning behind those dreams is still one of them. In the middle of all the chaos, a few things will come to light.

Word Count: 8.4k

“Of everyone here, I didn’t expect you to be keeping a stash,” he sat down on the edge of your bed, facing your back as you were hunched over the desk, writing sloppily a few notes for tomorrow morning. “I asked Scott and Storm, they had nothin…”

You put your headset on this morning. You usually only used it to drown out everything else when you really needed to. Everyone has noticed except those who don’t know what it means. Those who do, remember the times in which you were at your lowest. Back then you were practically unable to function without the damn headphones over your ears. The last time you even remember wearing them was when you first started teaching here, all the noise and rapid energy being quieted by the music in your head.

 After last night, and the confessions made to Logan, he seemed to be open to hearing more from you then… but he kept you at arm’s reach now, and you couldn’t say you didn’t understand why. He’s not just been thrust into the middle of an age-old fight between friends, but he also is struggling with his identity. 

You did however learn something interesting after hearing chatter when you woke up. Logan and Scott aren't getting along. Why? Because Logan has been relentlessly flirting with Jean. You’d scoffed when you found out. Not because you don’t think Jean is worthy of such advances, but because he was basically shooting himself in the foot by even trying to take her from Scott. 

Jean is a rare bird, and a special person. Charles argues the same thing about everyone who sets foot on the property, but with her, it’s especially true. She’s smarter than most people you know, having gone to a college outside of the education given by Charles and the others. She even attended school alongside you for a while, although it only took you a few semesters to realize you weren’t cut out for the medical field like she was. You have to be able to touch your patients, after all.

She had a lot to offer, and anyone could see that. Even excluding her powers, which were enough to level a city on their own. She was kind, nurturing, and very strategic. All of those things combined with the looks of a super model made her one of the most desirable people in the entire mansion, so even though you and Logan made a connection, you don’t find it hard to see why he’s taken with her. 

It may bother you just a little, but you would never admit it to anyone who asked, not even Charles. 

All of this is not why you put on your headset, but it could be a contributing factor. 

You’ve just met Logan, or at least officially. It stands to reason that you shouldn’t have an inkling of feelings yet. You can’t imagine that would be how it goes. In any rational situation, you have to get to know him. That’s how relationships work.

You remember how it was with Charlie, how it took more than one night of talking late when everyone else was asleep. You got to know him, and got to see his kindness and compassionate heart. You’d seen who he truly was, and it warmed your heart and soul, despite not being able to touch him. You don’t know Logan yet, but you imagine he’s not as soft and kind, nor gentle or compassionate. He seems like sort of a lone wolf, and the type to push away everything except for what he’s got his eyes set on. You don’t even know if the connection you made was real, or if he was just looking for company…

He has nightmares, but you don’t know why. It’s only one relation, that’s all. Maybe he’d only asked you to stay because he was frightened of them, just like you are of yours.

You’d gone back to your room near the hours of sunrise, and fell back asleep before your alarm woke you, but you were still exhausted, and wondered if he was facing the same conundrum. It was only when you went to ask him about it that he became colder to you than the night before. He’d given a stiff answer and gone about his morning, which you were confused by, since he wasn’t a student, nor a teacher.

You passed him in the halls throughout the day, and nodded to him with a sweet smile. He doesn’t really return it, just kept walking. You think that maybe he just didn’t see you, or was on his way to do something else and couldn’t pay attention, but then at dinner he refuses to look at you, and you can’t for the life of you understand why. 

You decide to block him out, to deal with the more pressing matters. The school, the mutant rebellion, and Rogue, the newest recruit. 

She’s like you in a few ways, and you feel sorry for her. You hope that by passing on some stories that maybe she can find hope in her powers. They are a gift and a curse, but she holds them wonderfully well already.

You found her on the back balcony, overlooking the gardens. She’d been sitting alone for about an hour, but didn’t seem to be bothered, just enjoying the peace. You debated whether or not you should disrupt it, but the second she heard you behind her, she turned. 

You had been organizing things back where they go, following the mess of mutant children to try and keep the house in good shape, and now that you’d found yourself with her, you wanted to say a few things. You peeled your headset off and sat beside her, offering a smile first. Her energy felt stiff, like she’d been unwelcome where she was. 

“You settled in yet?” 

She shrugged, unsure of what to say. Even in a place full of people like her, she was an outsider. “I guess I’m getting there.”

It was silent for a moment, and you sensed her energy was low and draining. She must have been sad, or angry, or even flat our forlorn about her powers and the danger they hold. 

“Y’know, when I first found out about my powers, it was the worst day of my life,” you started, but quickly followed up, knowing the words were not inspiring. “They are a blessing and a curse, but for most of my life they were a curse… until the Professor found me. Now, I’ve learned to use them to help people. You can, too.”

It should have helped, but her feelings on the power she held didn’t waver, she just wanted to know what she was in for, and you knew better than anyone what she would face.

“Did you ever… hurt anyone?” she asked sincerely, turning to face you but managing the distance. Both your touches were lethal and dangerous.

“Yeah,” you sighed, looking out to the gardens and hoping that the serene ambience would keep you in a good state of mind. “Most of them were the people closest to me. Always an accident, but still a deadly one.”

“I’m sorry,” she dropped her head, unsure of herself now, too. She didn’t know how to control it, or even subdue it. It may not even be possible. 

“Don’t be sorry, it was a long time ago… I’m a lot more careful now.”

“They told me how old you were, how long you’ve been around…” she trailed, looking for a good way to ask such a terrible question. “How have you lived that long without being able to touch the people you love?” 

You understood why she was asking. Of course, she was concerned about her future, but also her present. She’s a runaway, who’s left her entire family because of her ability. She must be feeling the lonesomeness that all mutants inevitably face at one point in their lives.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, trying not to become emotional. You’ve loved many people in your lifetime, many people you’ve lost early, or at the right time, but you could never go with them. You can’t seem to die, but everyone else does when you need them the most. “I think that being here is really what saved me. Not only knowing there are others like me, but knowing I can have a family who doesn’t fear me, doesn’t judge me. Even knowing all the things I’ve done.”

“You didn’t do them on purpose, did you?” 

“No,” you shook your head. “But I’m still responsible for them, for the people I’ve killed.”

You’ve killed people. How many, she doesn’t know, but she feels as though you’re the only person that can understand her. That can understand being afraid of herself and what she can do to others. She knows that you’ve probably gone decades and decades just trying to learn how to be more careful, and that she’ll have to learn, too. 

“You said you’d hurt people you love… what happened?” 

This was a very soft spot for you. Even after a century, it was still an open wound. Something that would never fully heal, because there was no way to achieve closure over it. What’s lost is gone, and your powers were the cause.

“I was engaged once,” you dropped your gaze to your lap, looking at your hands and the way they were so well fitted with the green gloves. You practically never took them off. 

“Engaged?” 

“Yeah, engaged. I’d somehow managed to find the single man in the entire universe that didn’t require me to touch him to achieve his affection…” You trailed, trying not to go into detail. Searching for a small distraction, you fiddled with the hem of your sweater, pulling loose threads to ignore the sad memories. “I touched him by accident.”

“And he died?” She widened her eyes, both upset for you and becoming more afraid of herself. She doesn’t want to fall in love, not if she’s going to hurt that person eventually. 

“He did,” you wiped your hand over your eyes before any tears could even fall, and then let it rest back in your lap. “But you’re not gonna make the same mistake that I did, I promise. I’ll help you.”

“You will?” Her eagerness to accept the assistance was clear. “Thank you.”

“Of course… and don’t give up hope. There could be someone out there that can withstand your powers just as they are.” 

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to offer such things to her, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Her brow furrowed, unsure if what you were saying was true. From your earlier words, you’ve been around a long time and it’s never happened for you. “Sounds impossible.”

“It’s not impossible,” you told her, standing up from beside her on the bench. “Nothing is impossible.”

You left her on that note, and went back inside. 

-

On your way up to bed, you caught Logan in the hallway. You gave a tight lipped smile on the way to your door, expecting him to be cold like he was throughout the day… but he fell into stride next to you, walking to his own door. 

“You guys got anything good to drink around here?” he asked, partially as a joke, but usually never going without a drink for more than a day was catching up to him. 

“This is a school, Logan,” you turned to him with a laugh and a light smile. Maybe he’d struck out with Jean and was off her coattails now. 

“Well I can see that, but I figured with a limited number of adults chasing after a million kids, someone’s gotta be drinking at the end of the day,” he leaned against his door frame, and you had completely turned to face him, neglecting your door knob which you had reached for originally. 

You huffed a sigh, shaking your head at him. You may or may not have a bottle of Jack hidden where no one can find it. If anyone in this hell hole had a reason to drink it was you, but you never did it in front of the kids, or nearly anyone else. You reckon Charles or Ororo would march up to you if they found out, voicing their concern. 

“Stay quiet, and don’t say a word about this to anyone…” You opened the door, letting him follow you in before closing it and locking the knob. “Under the bed, back right corner.”

You allowed him to go fishing for it himself, going to your desk in the corner to make sure you were caught up on everything and prepared for tomorrow’s history quiz before you settled in for the night. He’d already been ready for bed, seemingly just roaming the halls and looking for alcohol at this late hour. 

“Of everyone here, I didn’t expect you to be keeping a stash,” he sat down on the edge of your bed, facing your back as you were hunched over the desk, writing sloppily a few notes for tomorrow morning. “I asked Scott and Storm, they had nothin…”

“I surprised you, huh?” you ask, not even throwing a look over your shoulder. You may have an interest in this man, but since you started teaching here you were always efficient, and that wasn’t going to stop now. 

“Yeah, a little,” he chuckled, taking swigs straight from the bottle. It had been more than half full the last time you drank from it, so there was a decent amount. “You just seem like the innocent one.”

This made you drop what you were doing and spin your chair around. “Innocent?” 

He smirked at your furrowed brows, but having known of your mutation, he was willing to guess everything and even bet on it. “I believe that’s what I said.”

You tilted your head at him, the look on your face making him grin even more. 

“I don’t think I like that word,” you leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest and thinking of all the reasons why. “I’ve done and seen things that would be considered unfathomable to other people.”

“I don’t mean how dangerous you are, I mean how corrupted you are,” he kept on, another swig taken from the bottle. “And I think you’re innocent.”

“I still don’t like it,” you shook your head, laughing a little and reaching for the bottle, which he was all too happy to hand over, fingers brushing your gloved hands. “I prefer inexperienced.”

“Does it matter? It means the same thing,” he argued, watching you take a nice lengthy drink of the whiskey in your hand. 

“It does matter, actually,” you were all too happy to correct him. “Innocence implies that my mind is pure of corruption, but really, I’ve just never been able to do the things I’ve thought about.”

He rolled his eyes, taking back the bottle and trying to keep up with you. He pointed to your head with a swirling finger. “Yeah right, I’m sure you’re just all kinds of perverted up there.”

You just giggled and looked at him for a moment. He was funny, he was handsome, and he was clearly interested in your favorite choice of alcohol. Just more things to connect on, you supposed. Maybe feelings weren’t so far down the road, after all. 

You blinked out of it when you realized you’d been looking at his bare arms for too long, the beater he wore left little to the imagination as to how fit he was, and it was a nice view to take in, but not this late, and certainly not with a bottle of Jack. 

“I should be getting to bed soon, big test tomorrow…” you trailed, standing up and going to the door. It was late, no one else should be awake, but you still wanted to make sure. “You can take the whiskey for the road, if you want.”

“I’ll get you another one,” he returned, knowing that by the end of the night, the bottle was likely to be empty. He’d not had Jack Daniel’s in a while, so he was grateful for the favor. 

“No need,” you shook your head as he met you in the doorway, peering down and clearly shadowing you under his tall form. You had to take a breath and smile to break the tension you felt, as it was thick and heated. “I really should stop drinking here, anyway.”

“I’m happy to pick it up in your place,” he smirked, still standing right in front of you. If anyone had stepped out of their room, they’d see how close he was looming. 

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” You asked hopefully, knowing full well that he could respond with an empty promise, and still be cold to you as he was today. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you.” 

And he left without another word.

-

You awoke in the middle of the night to chaos in the hallway. You were surprised not to be plagued with nightmares for once, but the screams of your next door neighbor didn’t exactly settle you back into your pillows. You heard footsteps outside your door, and when you sat up, Ororo opened the door without knocking, the urgency of whatever situation that had happened started to set in. 

“There’s been an accident,” she looked to you with an expression of fear and shock, leaving the doorway as soon as she could see you were scrambling to your feet.

You could feel the energy, it was all over the place. Kids were scared, and so were some of the adults, Ororo being one of them. You ran into the room, avoiding the touch of everyone you passed by, and stared at the scene playing out. 

“What happened?” you rushed over to where Jean and Scott were hovering over Logan, his unconscious body thrown over the bed and seemingly in a state of paralysis. 

“Rogue, she touched him,” Jean was working the best she could to try and keep him from death’s door, but even with her skilled hands, she looked afraid. “He’s fading quickly, she may have drained too much of his regeneration.”

You tried to think quickly on your feet. She drained his regenerative energy, but you could restore it. The manipulation of energy was clearly something you were all too familiar with, but you were afraid if his regeneration was too low that he might die from your mutation. 

If he’s already going to die, you’re going to do the only thing you know how to try and save him. 

“Jean, move,” you reach for him, and she practically dives out of the way of your bare hands. 

“You’ll kill him!”

“Just trust me,” you said, your hands finding his shoulders. You heard gasps behind you when your skin met his, and they all started whispering, assuming that if he wasn’t dead before, he definitely was now. 

You focused your energy on him, using what was inside of you and around you to build back up what had been inside of him. His mutation, his strength and endurance, and most of all, his healing capability. 

“Alice, he’s dead,” Scott nearly scolded you, shaking his head. He wasn’t fond of the man, but that didn’t mean he wished him to die… and now he had, by your hand or Rogue he wasn’t sure. “What did you do?” 

You ignored him, and all the ones whispering behind you. You could feel his life force, like a branch in the air around you, reaching out just the smallest bit, but not strong enough to hold growth yet. You were slowly building it, letting it stretch out until his own body could take it from there. 

When he took a sharp inhale of breath and his chest started to rise and fall again, everyone nearly fell over out of shock. No one said a word yet, because they were too stunned to speak. 

Logan was still in bad condition, but you trusted that his healing could help him out from here. You pulled him onto your lap, head resting against your body as you felt for a steady pulse, and saw the color returning to his hands and arms. 

“I got you,” you whispered, holding him close. This was the first person that you’d ever been able to save with your touch, as before, it killed everyone who came across it.

“Alice?” Jean called from behind your shoulder, her mouth still agape and her eyes wide. “Alice!”

You looked to her, only slightly fearful that she may tell Charles about this, and then you’ll be in for an earful. He was the hand that guided you along the terrible pathways of your life, but he was also the one who reprimanded you when need be. 

“He’s alright,” you promised her, but she still didn’t come closer. Scott however, was completely baffled and had a million questions. 

“How did you do that? You can’t touch anyone-”

“I can touch him,” you answered shortly, your arms still wrapped tight around his limp form. “Just him.”

Jean shook her head and snapped out of her train of thought. There was too much to be asked, but this was not the time for it. Logan still needed more treatment, despite the help you gave. You stood up to accommodate her, keeping your eyes on Logan and making sure he was still okay. You could feel his energy restacking, like building blocks in the air around you. 

“Start talking,” Scott pressed, the urgent situation now overshadowed by a need for answers. Ororo joined Scott in front of you, her expression holding more than just shock at this point. She looked nearly excited, but you couldn’t say why. 

“I know him,” you said, trying to start slowly, but knowing the two of them, it wouldn;t be good enough. “When Striker had us, he got Logan, too. He doesn’t remember it, but he saved my life… yours too, Scott.”

“That…” he trailed, shaking his head. He’d done the same thing that you’d done. He blocked it out of his memory. That didn’t mean that it didn’t happen. You just had a better reason to remember it. “That can’t be possible… he’s touched you before?” 

“He practically dragged me out of that cell,” you told him, and he recalled the day of the mutant prison break. He remembers a man helping them, but never imagined it could have been Logan. 

“How is it possible? I’ve seen you drop some of the most powerful mutants where they stand, no one survives being touched by you,” Ororo was the one to pitch in this time, her question not so much one of what, but how?

“His regenerative ability. The way Charles used to explain my powers to me, he said to think of my skin like a radioactive energy poison. When such a poison is absorbed into one’s body it can cause it to shut down. My powers work the same way, just a thousand times stronger and faster. The thing is,” you pointed behind you, where Logan was slowly gaining small bits of health. “His regen mutation never allows my energy to be absorbed… I can’t kill him.”

“Scott?” Jean called from the ground, trying and failing to lift Logan on her own. “Gonna need a little help here. I need him in the med bay.”

Scott shook off the conversation, focusing on the matter at hand. 

When Jean and Scott got Logan through the crowd of kids, they all dispersed back to their rooms. The only two remaining were you and Ororo. 

She stared at you for a moment, wondering if you were going to leave, but then watched as you shuffled around in Logan’s things, looking for what you leant to him. You were hoping by some miracle that there would be some left. 

“Aha,” you let out, grabbing the bottle from inside the dresser drawer, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig. There wasn’t much, but there was enough to ease your mind at this late hour. “Want some?” 

“You really think this is a good time to be drinking?” she scoffed, crossing her arms and watching you fall back onto the foot of his bed. 

“I think it’s the perfect time to be drinking,” you held it out to her, wondering if she’d actually take it. 

She tried to keep her adult habits outside of the school, but these were tumultuous times, and she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to allow it under the circumstances. 

Out of the silence, she turned to you, right as you took your next slow gulp of the smooth liquor. 

“So,” her pause and sigh were unneeded. You knew what she was about to be getting on about. “You can touch him…”

“Yep,” you looked at her, a thin lipped smile on your face. You really didn’t have much else to say, but she did. 

“I know you never got over Charlie,” she spoke gently, not wanting to pinch a nerve, or bring up bitterness in a moment like this. The calm after the storm, no pun intended. “But maybe this is your chance…”

“A chance to what?” 

“You know what I’m talking about,” she leaned into your eyeline, still careful to stray from any of your exposed skin. 

“Yeah,” you muttered, “I know.” And then with the last swig in the bottle, you felt the warmth of the drink, and the tiniest bit of a buzz. “I don’t think Logan’s that kinda guy.”

“You don’t think he’d commit to a relationship?” 

“I don’t think he’d commit to me,” you corrected, shrugging your shoulders. You wished you had more to drink after that revelation, but unfortunately, this empty bottle contained the only bit of alcohol on the entire property. 

“He seems loyal, maybe you just need to know him better,” she encouraged, bumping her clothed shoulder with yours. Always a kind gesture, one of friendship and to show she held no fear of you like others did. 

“He doesn’t even know himself,” you chuckled a little. It may have been a bit of a mean joke to make, because you can’t even imagine how hard it is for him, but still you laugh, because you know him better than he does. “I know who he was that day.”

“When he saved you?” 

“Yeah, saved everyone,” you dropped your head, focusing on your hands and trying to keep your mind from falling down any bunny trails. “He was a hero. I think he still might be.”

“You should tell him that.”

“I did,” you chuckled, tossing the whiskey bottle back into the soft pillows of the bed to rid your hands of it. “He didn’t believe a word I was telling him…”

She sighed, knowing that with your stubbornness, and your fear of hurting people, you may opt to keep him at arms length, regardless of his ability to touch you. She knew about Charlie, and what you did to him. She knew you’d sworn off love since that day, over a hundred years ago… but she still had hope that this could turn into a part of your happiness. 

“Don’t give up on him so fast, alright?” She asked, her eyes turning to that of a puppy dog, pulling at your heart and nearly making you comply. 

“I won’t.”

-

Rogue went missing the next day, and while you’d been chomping at the bit to find her, you were unfortunately called to the office of the professor. You wondered if you were in for a stern talking to after the previous night’s events. 

“Take a seat,” he began, staring out the open window at the setting sun, and the children on property who were playing in the grass before dark. 

You did as you were told, not because you wanted to, but because you respected Charles enough to listen to whatever diatribe he was about to drone on. 

“I’ve had quite a few people visit my office today on your account,” he turned his chair around, his face not one of disappointment like you thought it would be. He didn’t look upset at all, nor did he look like he was going to reprimand you for being careless with your abilities. “I must say, I was surprised to hear of what happened.”

“I know it was careless of me,” you defended, unknowing if it was even necessary, but wanting to cover your bases, anyways. “But I can explain.”

“There’s no need to put up an argument, my dear.”

“There’s not?” 

He chuckled and shook his head, a small smile spreading over his cheeks. “Not at all. In fact, I’m actually quite happy for you.”

“Happy for me?” you asked another question, the reasoning for your visit becoming more unclear. 

“I know how long you’ve suffered,” he sighed, his tone returning to something more serious. “I have felt your anger and bitterness towards your abilities. I’ve sensed your hatred of them for years.”

“That was before,” you tried to interject, to tell him how thankful you were for his training. “But you taught me they were not just a curse, but also a blessing.”

“And do you really think I believe you when you say it? Miss Beckett, I’ve known you more than half my life… I can read your mind without entering it by now.”

You knew that if anyone could understand you it was him. You could feel other’s energy, but when he entered someone’s mind he could feel that and so much more. He could feel emotions, think that person’s thoughts, and even see what they see. 

“You knew all this time, then?” 

“I did,” he nodded, but didn’t stop there. “I knew that no matter what I did, it wouldn’t change your burdens.”

You ducked your head, thinking back to the times you’d lied, telling everyone that things were better. Truthfully, as a person you felt less alone, less hated and less dangerous… but you never felt loved. You couldn’t. No one could, or wanted to touch you, knowing your mutation.

“Scott told me about Logan, how you’d all met once before,” he said, turning the conversation back around to that of a better note. “When you’d repressed the memories of what Agent Striker had done, you’d forgotten him… but you didn’t forget what he did for you, and you didn’t forget a special detail.”

“He touched me,” you filled in the blank, waiting for him to continue. 

“Precisely.”

“I think…” you trailed, unsure of where this chat was going to lead. If Ororo had come to him, you were sure the thoughts exchanged the night before had come up, even if it was just meant to help you. “I think he may have feelings for… someone else.”

Charles nodded, he’d not purposely looked into Logan’s mind, but when Jean was stirring restlessly in the late evening, he took a peek inside hers, seeing the struggle to combat Logan and his advances.

“I understand,” he responded, but thought it was worth mentioning what he knew. “But his advances are pointless.”

“I still don’t want to get my hopes up,” you reasoned, a good point to be made considering his behavior towards you. “I’m getting too old for shit like this, you know?”

His understanding went without saying, he remembers your past, and knows of the only person you ever truly loved. It was a story for the ages with a tragic ending that would even make the bravest of men shed a tear. 

“Of course.”

You waited for him to dismiss you, and when he nodded to you in finality, you stood up from your seat. 

“Stay open minded, my dear, you don’t know where your path may lead.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, giving him a smile as you left the room. 

“Thank you, Charles.”

First Ororo, and now Charles. Your biggest cheerleaders since they met you… you love them both, and want to listen to them, but you are older therefore wiser, and must protect yourself from things that aren’t good for you. Everyday you grow older but your face and body stay the same. Your mentality weakens when you realize you’ve still got so much life to live, and it burdens you more when you struggle to live it alone. Having someone by your side would be the answer to your every prayer, the reason you could keep going. But you know you can’t endure another heartbreak, you won’t survive it. 

-

It’s been days, nearly a week. Your mind is frazzled, and you think that maybe it’s time for a break. A quiet time to let your mind rest and restore itself. 

So much has happened, and you can’t put your finger on what was the most stressful part of it all. The quickness, the escalation, the chaos… or what it almost cost you. 

Erik is temporarily defeated, but you know he’ll keep at it in the future. There were several mutants in his gathering that were unapprehended after the final battle. It will make for an interesting hunt that the X-men get to pursue.

One of which you wouldn't mind letting go about her business for a while. You knew Mystique when she went by Raven. 

So much has changed since then, and you've changed with the time gone by.

There's still something on your mind after everything that's happened this week, and of course that something is Logan. His past, his present, and what he wants to do with his future. 

He’s an X-man now, a part of the team and a member of the mutant family… but he searches for who he is, and you can sympathize with that, especially because of what he did for you. He didn’t just do it for you, but with the state you were in, he could have passed your cell, given up on you. Instead, he practically carried you out of that prison, never knowing how lethal your touch was. He saved you and gave you the greatest gift you’d received. Hope. A fresh start. The thought that life didn’t have to be such a burden. 

The kids were settled in early this evening, after the late night that was pulled the day prior, they needed to catch up on their rest… but Logan was having a hard time sleeping. You were, too. 

It was about eleven when he came knocking on the door, softly so nobody else would hear him. Ororo was behind the door next over from yours, her light on beneath the slit in that door, and he mentally kicked himself for even doing this at all, so late at night. 

When you cracked open your own door, peeking through to see who it was, you were surprised at the man standing in the doorway. 

“Logan? What are you doing up? It’s late…”

“Yeah, I know,” he whispered, just above the level you were speaking at, voice barely audible. “I wanted to talk to you.”

You were unsure of what there was to talk about, really. It had been radio silence since the mission, and you figured he wanted some space after something like that… it wasn’t unusual for an X-man, but you didn’t know him as well, so you didn’t know what you were supposed to expect. 

“Can I come in?” he asked, and it was only now that you realized you’d been frozen in your spot, a furrowed brow worn on your face. 

“Yeah, sorry.”

You closed the door behind him when he passed through, going back to your bed to sit down. He followed suit, and it was nearly a reverse image of the first night he arrived. 

“I wanted to thank you,” he cleared his throat, trying to sound grateful. “For saving my life. Jean told me what you did.”

You smiled a little and scoffed, shaking your head and waving him off. “Don’t thank me… I actually endangered your life.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I? Whatever you did, it saved me.”

“I had no idea that it would, it could have gone either way,” you argued, not for the sake of being right, but because you didn’t want him to think you’d done something extraordinary or heroic. You were actually being quite selfish in your actions. 

“You like to argue a lot, huh?” he teased, remembering the last one on one conversation you both had. You would admit, you didn’t like being wrong. You’d gotten it in your head that after being alive for so long, you ought to know more than everyone. 

“Well, I am a lawyer,” you shrugged, a slight smirk on your face. You’d never practiced in a firm, or even got a law related job, but you liked to remind people of it here and there, it was always entertaining. 

“I noticed that certificate on your wall the other night, noticed em’ all, actually…” he trailed, throwing a glance over his shoulder to check and make sure they were all still there. He’d come to the conclusion that you were intelligent the first time you met, your dialect being very formal for the age he thought you were… but above that, you carried yourself in a way that spoke to being knowledgeable. 

“Oh, those?” you laughed, tilting your head and making a silly face in their direction. “Those are nothing, just reminders of all the times I’ve been bored.”

“Bored? You’re kidding me,” he mused, crossing his arms and chuckling. 

“Maybe I also wanted to better myself a little,” you answered truthfully, rolling your eyes after getting it out. He didn’t seem like the scholarly type. Not a bad thing by any means, but you were sure his abilities far accelerated him in other occupations before he ended up here.

“Well whatever the reason, you’ve clearly done good,” he complimented, and you were certainly not complaining. Getting compliments from your friends, from your mutant family, it uplifted you… but getting a compliment from him? It felt different, more weighted. “And whatever you did to save me, that was good too.”

“I didn’t even know it would work,” you huffed, looking down at your hands. You hadn’t touched him since he came in, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were doing so purposely, or if you just hadn’t gotten the opportunity. “I honestly thought I might kill you faster…”

“Then why would you have tried it?” He couldn’t believe you. A smart girl like you, with the power you held? It seemed out of character to make a decision like that.

“Honestly?” you raised your brows, thinking of a sentence that didn’t sound weird, or selfish. “I was scared you were gonna die before I could know you.”

He tilted his head slightly in confusion. “You want to know me?” 

“I do,” you nodded with a sheepish smile. Thank God for the darkness in the room, because you’re sure your face is turning red. “I mean, it’s not everyday that I meet someone I can shake hands with, so…”

He laughed a little, reaching out playfully for a handshake. You smiled wide, taking his hand and giving it a nice firm shake. You’ve shaken hands when wearing gloves, but it’s just not the same. You’ve touched others while wearing them, too. But the skin contact you’ve always been deprived of, it’s something that sends chills down your spine, no matter how simple the gesture is. Even just a handshake. 

“I’d like you to know me too, but there’s just one problem with that,” he sighs, shaking his head in a bit of something akin to sadness. “I don’t know me.”

You can’t stand to see that look on his face. His hand was still wrapped around yours, now resting on his knee and near your lap. An idea springs to your mind, and though it’s a terrible one, you think about all the good it could produce in the long run. 

“What if I could help you remember?” You suggested, grabbing his attention almost immediately. “You’ve said you don’t remember anything past fifteen years ago… that’s when you saved me from Striker.”

“You think you could help me?” 

“I can try, I owe it to you.” Your reasoning made him turn the idea over in his head, but he wasn’t sure of how you planned to help him, exactly. “Something must have happened that day to make you forget… we can go back to the base, look for answers, see if anything triggers your memories?” 

It was a bold move, but you had to take it. No matter what happened the other night, you still owe him your life, and this could be a way to even the playing field. 

“You’d take me there?” he asked sincerely, a bit surprised that you would even offer, considering what he knew of your time in that prison. You shouldn’t want to return at all, but what’s worse is you want to do it for him. 

“I would… If you want me to.” 

He grinned, his look of bewilderment still laced in. “I would be grateful, if you could.”

“It’s settled then.”

He nodded to you, and you both gave a glance to the door. It was time to say goodnight, though you wanted him to stay and talk till sunrise. You had so many questions, about him, about his life since Striker, and even about his abilities… but it would have to wait till another time. 

He got up, and you followed, getting to the door before you heard voices outside of it. 

“It’s Ororo,” you sighed, turning to him and huffing. “I don’t know who she’s talking to…”

“I better not let her see me sneaking around this late,” he said, looking back at you with a comical expression. “I have a feeling that she’ll tattle on me.”

“You’re right, she would.” You stood with your ear to the door, hearing that the other voice in the hall was Jean. They were talking about you, and you figured it was not a good time to let the Wolverine go traipsing out of your room. “You know, you don’t have to go… if you don’t want to. You could just stay here tonight.”

His smirk held a bout of confidence before he spoke, “You sure I’m not crowding your space?” 

“I’ve got plenty of room,” You nodded to the queen bed you’d stood up from. In all truthfulness, it was a big bed to sleep in alone, and you’d been forced to for over a decade. “You also just happen to be the only person who wouldn’t die if I accidentally kicked you in the middle of the night.”

He laughed, nodding his head. He didn’t want to leave in the first place, he just felt like maybe he’d been imposing. Tough luck on that, because if you had your way, he’d stay longer than just the night. 

“With an argument like that, how can I say no?” 

“I might not sleep for a while, though… so if you wanna turn in, be my guest,” you sat back on the bed, shoving your walkman with the headphones to your side so he could settle in next to you. 

“Couldn’t really sleep already, that's why I came here in the first place.” He started eyeballing the walkman, scooting in closer to where you sat, legs crossed and back against your pillows and headboard. “You got music?” 

“Oh, uh… yeah, just a little mixtape I’ve been listening to.” 

You’d just rewound the tape earlier, and almost put it over your ears when you found you couldn’t sleep. Maybe it would have settled the noise in your brain… but Logan seemed to do a pretty good job of that, too.

“May I?” He gently reached for the set, and your heart stuttered in beat when you saw the sweet look in his eyes.

“Yeah, of course,” You handed it over with a smile, no hesitation, even though this new mixtape was built primarily on the feelings for him you’d been fighting. “It’s mostly just girl stuff…”

He put the headphones on and started listening, and you felt a bit awkward just watching him listen to the music, unsure if he would piece anything together or not. 

The first song played was Fields of Gold by Sting… just a soft ballad that made you think of what life might be like if things were different. 

By the second song, you pulled the plug of the headphones, letting the music play softly through the speaker instead so you could both hear it. It felt much better when you could listen to the music yourself. Music always calmed you down, made you feel more at ease.

You helped him fast forward through some of the songs he seemed bored during, but he stopped you on a few, nodding his head and smiling as the music filled his ears. 

“You like this one?” You asked, watching him start tapping his fingers to the song I Was Made For Lovin’ You by Kiss.

“This is my kinda music, right here,” he laughed, letting loose a little, breaking down his tough exterior just slightly so you could see the softness lurking behind. 

The noise from outside your door had long gone, but Logan didn’t seem eager to leave whatsoever… you did after all invite him to stay. 

When the song Wicked Game came on, you opted to skip it, and he grabbed the tips of your fingers to pull your hand away and ask why. The intro kept playing, the somber guitar filling the air between you. 

“It’s a sad song, kinda haunting,” you explained, but the real reason you were trying to skip it was because you’d rewound this one a bit too much when thinking about him, the lyrics seeming to match up to every time you looked at him the way you were now. “It’s not as fun as the others.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said, taking the walkman and holding it so that you couldn’t skip the song yet. 

World was on fire, and no one could save me but you

Strange what desire will make foolish people do

You looked up at him and he seemed to really be into the music, but his brow was furrowed, like he was thinking about it in real time. 

I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you

You had to look away from him for a moment, your face turning red and your eyes falling to your lap.

And I never dreamed that I’d lose somebody like you

No, I don’t wanna fall in love

No, I don’t wanna fall in love… with you

You took a glance back up, seeing his face and the way it seemed to turn almost upset by the lyrics. You almost thought about reaching for the walkman, but his death grip on it looked too strong to break. 

“The next one is pretty good,” you smiled, trying to lighten the mood. He broke out of his trance and nodded, handing the device back to you. 

The smooth and laid back energy returned to the room, and you could feel the peace of it engulfing you as you absorbed the energy from the air. It fed you, made you stronger, happier. 

You couldn’t even help yourself by the time it got to the end of the playlist, the last song making you quietly sing aloud in front of someone you barely know… which was strange considering you wouldn’t even sing in front of your dearest and closest friends. 

The song just did that to you… it used to remind you of a love you once lost, but because of the lyrics, you were starting to associate the beautiful melody with another face. The one looking back at you with a small lip tug of a smile. 

The song in question? More Than Words by Extreme. 

You didn’t look at him when you sang it, because you were already falling too hard, too fast. You needed to slow down… but just thinking about the lyrics… 

More than words, is all you have to do to make it real

Touching someone for the first time is more than words can express… sitting side by side with someone without fear of hurting them means more than words could possibly say.

When the song ended you stopped the tape, setting it to rewind and putting it over on your bedside table. 

“Not bad… that last one, I’ve heard it a few times somewhere else. It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, I like it better than the others,” you said jokingly, as if he couldn’t already tell by how easily the words came out of your mouth. “Saved the best for last, right?” 

“I’d say so,” he wouldn’t look anywhere else but you, and you felt so powerless under his stare. You were folding in record time, and honestly at this point, you’d count it as a miracle if you made it out of this night without ruining it all.

“You tired yet?” you asked, changing the subject and pulling back your sheets. 

“I’m getting there…” 

His soft and pretty hazel eyes were starting to make you wish you’d not invited him. He was making this difficult. You wanted to know him, and not just physically. There would be time for that, but you had to wait and make sure he was the one.  You weren’t willing to let yourself love him to the ends of the earth if you weren’t going to be able to keep him. It would just haunt you for the rest of your long and burdened life.

“Me too, but uh… I’m gonna try and finish my book,” you smiled, reaching for the novel on your bedside table. Fahrenheit 451. “So, just turn in whenever you’re tired.”

He debated asking you about the book, but ultimately decided that he’d bothered you enough for one night. It seemed like something he might research himself, if it was something you like. You obviously have good taste in music, maybe he ought to give reading the same books as you a try. 

He’d never admit it, because it wasn’t like him to do such a thing, but he liked being around you. Liked touching you. The energy you gave off was pleasant, and every time your skin connected, he absorbed a little bit of it from you. Something that would kill anyone else, he got to experience first hand. 

He smiled and lied down, giving a glance over his shoulder before he settled in. Your bed was warmer than his, more comfortable, too. “G’night, Alice.”

Your grin compared to his was like a young schoolgirl, completely and utterly lovestruck for the boy you met last week. 

“Night, Logan.”

Tags: @ayamenimthiriel @levislegislation @reidsworld @melsunshine @clairealeehelsing

[oceanwithouthermoon]

okok let me finally do my analysis on kusuke and makoto parallels like ive talked about a thousand times (obvious warning that im gonna talk about incest, and also that im gonna be talking about a gag manga in a serious light so if that upsets you just go away ✌️)... yippee, perverted older brothers with unhealthy dynamics with their powerful younger siblings analysis!!

the most obvious parallel is in their interactions with the others sibling. they literally have the same exact meeting, they both go from being fake nice to "my sibling is special and youre not worthy of them"

not included in pictures but also note that kusuo got rid of makoto by calling on kokomi and kokomi got rid of kusuke by calling on her fans

"the second hes distracted, LETS GO"

"we're the only ones who can match up to each other"

kusukes idea of kusuo being inhuman also influences the way this is treated i think- he tells kokomi that marrying a beautiful man will suit her best and that kusuo is above that kind of thing (aka actual romantic and aesthetic attraction), and it seems that being the only ones who can measure up to each other is probably the closest, in his eyes, that kusuo can get to love (confirmed in my opinion by the marriage/engagement symbolism a few pictures down⬇️). thats why he thinks theyre the only ones worthy of each other even if he doesnt see kusuo in the exact same way as makoto sees kokomi. if that makes any sense :p these are obviously already parallel on surface level, but id say theyre even more similar if you look deeply into it

"i know everything youre thinking" and "everyone else looks like monkeys to me"

associating their sibling with heaven/god

a certain fixation on their sibling's body... top two are specifically them trying to see their sibling naked without consent

? not sure how to describe this. implications of engagement/marriage? this use of an explicitly romantic symbol actually confuses me in kusukes case but thats not really relevant here...

theyre the reason their sibling cant relax or be themself even at home... also note that kusuo specifically says that kusuos masochism (which i guess in some contexts masochism can be non-sexual but in this situation, since kusuke is canonically a pervert and there are several implications and allusions to sexual pleasure, it obviously means he gets SEXUAL pleasure from pain/humiliation) is the main reason he doesnt like him. likewise, kokomi is bothered by makotos overprotective and overbearing nature, though unfortunately she doesnt seem to be aware of his sister complex and thinks hes just being an annoying big brother.

not necessarily something that can be captured in a picture but theres also the fact that they both have pretty perfect lives but are still obsessed with their sibling and only their sibling, its all they really care about and their entire lives depend on them.

makoto is extremely attractive, charming when hes trying to be, and is a famous actor... he clearly gets girls. but he doesnt want any of them because hes stuck in his obsession with kokomi, shes the only girl he wants and its ruined his perception of other girls. he believes hes the only one that can be right for kokomi and touch her, and that likewise kokomi is the only girl he can be with. her presence dictates his life, he skips work just to follow her around and prevent her from getting involved with other guys. we only see maybe a few sentences from him where he isnt talking about kokomi, even when hes on tv.

kusuke is an attractive and charming genius, easily pulls girls, cambridge graduate, and is the favorite child in his family. but none of that matters, it only sets him apart from other humans and gives him a skewed perspective of anyone who isnt kusuo. he believes kusuo is the only person he can get that sadomasochistic pleasure from, and kusuo is the reason he developed it in the first place and he specifically seeks him out and coerces him into it. he really only cares about his family, theyre the only people in the world that are worth anything in his eyes, and his only interactions with anyone else have been using them as tools to get to kusuo. his life goal is (or was, before the end of cat tank arc) defeating kusuo. he has cameras in his familys house that hes presumably constantly watching, implied by him being ALREADY watching before his parents even called him about kusuos limiter.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi! I'm trying to get into writing twst fanfiction, but I'm having some trouble with keeping the boys in-character. What do you think are their base traits? Like, what's the foundation of their personalities?

Hello! I spent a long time debating about whether to respond to this ask or not. Ultimately, a lot of the thoughts I would include in my response are the same as what I have already expressed here. However, I've noticed that this has become sort of a recurring issue, so I'd like to address this more seriously.

I've recently been getting a lot of people requesting that I basically tell them how to write the Twst characters. Tens and tens of them, in fact (too many to include all in one post). Sometimes it's an ask like, "please list out strengths/weaknesses or a summary of their character traits", and sometimes it's more specific like, "here is a prompt I am working on; how do you think [character] would act in this situation?" I'm NOT comfortable with either type of ask and refuse to answer asks of this nature.

I want to be clear: this is NOT the same as asking for general writing advice; this is literally just asking to be spoon-fed the answers. There is a difference between seeking advice on how to overcome writer's block or asking what are techniques to show, don't tell (which is general writing advice) versus asking someone to specifically instruct them on how to write Leona Kingscholar from the hit Disney mobile game Twisted Wonderland. The former is okay with me, while the latter is not.

While I am flattered that people care about my opinion and hold it in high regard, I am not here to be a cheat sheet, and nor are my opinions the "most correct". There is no single "correct" way to write a character, and even if there was, it's certainly not mine. Only the Twst devs themselves are the "most correct", as whatever they produce is what ends up as canon.

As I have said in my previous post on this topic, having someone else tell you how to write does little to help you. Writing is a skill, and skills are not inherent. They are something you train in, practice, and learn. Looking at a bunch of adjectives will not help you write or understand the characters any better than you currently do. If anything, it just means you don’t develop or practice your critical analysis skills. In a worse-case scenario, it devalues what a writer does, as it places the burden on them to condense what they know into a laundry list of characterization--as if it doesn't take us tons of time to hone those writing skills. The only real way to get the results you want is to do your own research, develop your own interpretations, and practice, practice, practice. There is no magic pill or shortcut or streamlining or easy way to do it and come out with a quality result. You have to be willing to put in the time and the effort to learn a skill, and that extends to writing, be it for this fandom, another fandom, or even for non-fandom writing. Think about it like this: when you're writing a good research paper, do you go and ask a single other source to gather all your data and summarize it for you? Of course not. You have to go out and manually collect the resources, do the reading, take notes, and gain an understanding of those resources. Then you use your newfound knowledge to summarize and to synthesize your own conclusions in your research paper. The same logic applies for writing in fandom.

I'm not sure why there is this sudden interest in shortcuts. Is it social media shortening our attention spans? Is it the rise of A.I. like ChatGPT making people more reliant on and more comfortable with summaries? Is it that people are concerned with nailing characterization or instant success the first time around? Is it that the internet's so much crueler with comments + feedback that we want to avoid OOC-ness as much as possible? Is it that I just so happen to like talking about character analysis so people think I must know everything? It could be any of these reasons or a combination of them--but whatever the reasoning is, it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It's concerning to me that it seems like people are becoming less and less interested in thinking for themselves and instead are increasingly reliant on others telling them how to create. You NEED to fail and get stuff wrong. You NEED to be able to have the courage to try things on your own. Don't be afraid of failure--failure isn't inherently a bad thing, it is how we learn, grow, and shape our own styles and ways of thinking! I definitely was not perfect when I first started out. I had to fail and stumble and struggle to get my craft to where it is today. So did every single one of your favorite creators. Artists had stick figures, writers had their first words. No artist or writer started off making masterpieces. Arguably, they still don't. Every creator is continuously learning and trying to improve their craft. It's not as though they hit perfection one day and decided to stay stagnant. I feel that it devalues what we make when we try to boil down all the skill we've developed into easy "answer keys" for others to digest. Again, you can ask all you want and seek out as many shortcuts as you like, but that's not going to be properly absorbed into your brain unless you walk the walk for yourself. You can't assume that learning these things will be as easy as reading a summary, memorizing a tutorial, figuring out what brush someone uses, etc.--it wasn't for the people you're asking for this advice from either. Failing is normal and expected. You will also never be able to create something that pleases everyone or something that everyone agrees with--so instead of trying to appeal to an unseen audience, please focus on creating what makes you happy. You have your own creative journeys ahead of you, so don't be scared to walk that road! It can be tough and you'll hit roadblocks and challenges--but overcome them, and you'll become even stronger and more skilled than you were before.

Best of luck!

[valenteal]

I think Dazai’s relationship with Atsushi is the only truly healthy one he’s ever had…

As much as Atsushi looks up to and feels like he owes Dazai, he doesn’t really put up with his shit. He doesn’t ignore or dismiss Dazai’s self destructive behavior but he also doesn’t judge or coddle him for it. He isn’t afraid to call Dazai out or acknowledge his flaws and he doesn’t listen and obey him blindly, unless he is in an immediately dangerous situation where hesitation could mean death. He doesn’t really let Dazai push him away either, he remains a stable source of comfort, someone Dazai can always rely on to help him.

All of Dazai’s other relationships, even Oda, had toxic aspects, some more than others certainly but still. Dazai can never trust Kunikida to accept him, Dazai’s entire being goes against his ideals no matter how much they may care about each other. Oda was always accepting and he was reliably there when Dazai needed him, but he’d also given up on Dazai to an extent, he didn’t actively try to help him at all until he was dying, he was kind of a passive person in general and even admitted that he wished he’d done more for Dazai. These relationships are not incredibly harmful, only damaging in subtle psychological ways that likely impacted Dazai’s self worth and his ability to feel comfortable or known. But still. Not healthy.

With Chuuya and Mori it’s quite a bit more obvious but I’ll explain how I see it anyway.

Dazai’s relationship with Chuuya, as much as it’s defined by mutual trust and respect, is poisoned by Dazai’s controlling behavior toward Chuuya. There are not one but TWO canonical instances where Dazai orchestrated the loss of Chuuya’s entire support network, during the 15 arc and in Storm Bringer. Neither instance was solely because he wanted Chuuya to himself but it was a motivating factor and the result was the same. Except of course Chuuya didn’t really blame him either time because he was able to deflect the blame onto Mori and Verlaine. But Chuuya isn’t unaware of Dazai’s role in either case, and he doesn’t forget. And Dazai doesn’t want to be so close to Chuuya. He doesn’t want someone to know him so well or to grow an attachment that he thinks will only end in pain, and he pushes Chuuya away violently when he remembers that. The thing that makes it toxic is that he forgets when he spends time with Chuuya because he just genuinely really likes him and enjoys his company. They are both each other’s only peers, in both rank and intellect. As much as they fights it, that means something to them both and it tied them together when Dazai was still in the mafia. And that’s not even touching on the rivalry between them, which isn’t inherently toxic but certainly has the potential to be, especially when paired with everything else.

And now we get to Mori. Dazai’s guardian, doctor, boss, and partner in crime. The man who saved his life more times than they can count. The man who gave him purpose and meaning in his life. Who brought him and Chuuya together. Who was responsible for Oda’s death. Who lied to him, used him, planned to kill him. Who trusted him, confided in him, shared his secrets with him. Their relationship is so complex, and in different circumstances it could have been very healthy. Mori truly cares about Dazai, and I think Dazai cared for Mori in return. It’s impossible to spend so much time with someone, share so much, without growing to care for them at all. And Mori and Dazai are so similar, they naturally understood each other and agreed with one another for a long time. One incident soured their relationship. But it still wasn’t healthy before that. Mori was using Dazai, putting him in a position no child or teenager should be in with little regard for his mental health. He still presumably gave Dazai drugs, though we don’t know what kind I think it safe to assume they weren’t regular antidepressants or anxiety prescriptions. Might have just been weed, but I doubt it. Anyway. Point is, Mori treated Dazai like an adult who was allowed to make their own terrible decisions, but took it a step further and pushed him towards those decisions for his own gain. Yes he cared about Dazai, and no he didn’t force him into anything, but he was irresponsible and manipulative all the same.

Anyway, I am once again writing an analysis on Dazai’s relationships in the middle of the night when I am supposed to be asleep. I have a Problem. Hope my sleep deprivation didn’t affect the quality lol

[axhellart]

Leona and a representation with love topics (female & male)

Everything said on this analysis is just a personal opinion, I don't mean to offend nor step on someone else's view or headcanons. Thanks to @/Viperkun to translate it.

First of all, we need to start from the basics and ask ourselves, Who is Leona Kingscholar? Leona is a complex character, filled by development which not everyone sees through or most of the time tends to not notice. He's a character that tends to have high expectations over a depression pretty deep and prolonged, there´s many themes regarding those feelings of inferiority, demotivation and many others, which leads to his self sabotage. However, at first glance he doesn't allows himself to feel pity towards others due to his own high ego and pride, he's a man that despite finding his own life pretty unfair, keeps going on in his own way and stipule.

Now, how would this affect his romantic relationships? The answer may change depending on the person who is by his side, this includes gender. Leona is very polite towards women since he's from a country which prioritizes them, they're stronger and bigger than the usual males from the same country, and so, even if women doesn't really fit this kind of criteria, he's still going to be respectful towards them.

No, he wouldn't be a role model prince (as an example, Eliza, with who he shared a few words one on one, then nothing more), but he's not going to have thoughts or actions that could be considered nor even be close to the category or definition of "incel".

He's not someone who overpowers by his strength or title over women; yes, he speaks with sarcasm, cynicism, and teasing is his second language, but he would never start any situation in which he would make someone uncomfortable or even less put someone at risk or danger (Overblot aside, since Yuu has no specific gender. If that was the case and Yuu was a girl -just like Savanaclaw's manga Yuu-, it's not that Leona decided to have a breakdown due to her or to hurt her, it was something out of his control due to circumstances)

In the case we talk about a boy, it wouldn't be too different from how we see Leona acting towards the rest of the twst cast in game; maybe the level of respect would lessen just a bit to talk in a bolder way we can consider as you to you.

I want to clarify that I'm not saying Leona is a bully towards a romantic male interest, just that he would probably have more fluid talks through a mutual understanding by sharing similar biological features if we put emotional and psychological sides apart, Reiterating it wouldn't be too far from his canon interactions with the original cast. Regarding my personal opinion (as well as this post is) I don't see Leona as someone who uses petnames with his romantic interest, at least not early into the relationship (established or not)

I know, there are many who have seen him or portray him as someone who would use nicknames as "my love", "darling", etc, and I don't invalidate any of them, though I can't really see them coming from someone who's stoic and serious most of the time. "Love melts even the coldest of hearts", yes, however it's complicated relating this through a romantic or platonic relationship with Leona, it's a bit complicated and takes some time.

As I mentioned before, he's a man with issues,problems which were born from deep insecurities and an inferior complex too huge to make them disappear all of a sudden just for love. It's a slow process, I'm not saying that he's going to be toxic once he gets into a relationship just that as many others the relationship would take more time and it's going to be complicated to finally establish it. The first phase of Leona being in love is denial, his main goal won't be focusing emotionally on a person, however, if he falls through this thought he would probably and mostly spend his time with said person; not being a man who would easily please someone with words, let's remember his brain tends to go under the logical side of things rather than emotional.

Even so, he's a man who's predominant love language (at least through this phase) is gift giving. Leona is a smart and sharp-eyed man, knowing at least a bit of the interest of the ones around him (Just look at Idia's second birthday card in which Leona gives him a chess set or how in more than on ocassion he gives Ruggie different things without him asking him to do so under their agreement of basic services; even when he gives a salad to Riddle or a pen to Vil, despite being unnecesary objects, and most of them being related to more of a silly/fun kind of interaction, they exist to let you know that he remembers those special days, he knows what to do, he is a man that sees and most importantly listens to his surroundings). Even if Leona's romantic interest doesn't mention they don't want anything Leona would read that somehow, he'll give it a meaning and provide surprise gifts through different kind of occasions for no apparent reason (money isn't a problem for him).

Moment of interlude, appreciate the kitten:

Ok ,let's continue. Once the relationships progresses, PDA will make it's entrance. Leona would be pretty clingy with his loved one, letting his own scent on them to let the others know that he was there first. Don't misunderstand nor mistake this as the kind of a response from a toxic or possessive person, he knows when to give space and how, even he needs it, but that doesn't mean he would let his lover go around without their clothes having the slightest of his scent on it.

He enjoys to take naps on his lover's lap, or even sleeping while embracing them. If we focus on a more natural-like related environment, lions tends to demonstrate their care to others by caressing each other's heads with their own, caressing their fur and also leaving some love bites; it wouldn't be much different here.

Personally I can see Leona giving love bites as a sign of affection; bites on the cheeks, shoulders, hands or neck (this without leading to a sexual side), leaning his head against his lover's one, or their shoulders if they're hugging, lazy little kisses around their face. I've read that when it comes to a girl, Leona would even ask for permission for a kiss, again related to the topic of consent and respect, to which I agree being someone who would ask for permission without words but actions, subtle, around two or three that would feel more than enough for him.

I don't see Leona jumping over or around someone to express his love through the first months into the relationship, he would be patient, testing the waters to see if this person isn't playing or making fun of him and his trust, something that has happened with other characters from the cast.

Please don't misunderstands my words, I've said before that he would ask for consent if his partner was a girl, but this works in case his romantic interest is a boy too, I just see him being more teasing with the last example.

Conclusion: Leona would never be categorized as a toxic man that would use his strength or status over someone he loves. Even if he ever could do so, the most possible scenario is an accidental one and he would make sure to apologize if he mistreated or make his partner uncomfortable. Leona isn't someone that would be afraid of apologizing when he knows he has done something wrong (we can see this during Tamashina Mina and how he apologizes to Jack by not thinking about how the hot weather would affect him since he wasn't from the same place as him). This also doesn't means that he would leave his pride aside, all he has is his own pride anyways, for good or wrong.

He's a responsible man, attentive, someone who wouldn't be the best at using cliche or romantic words at first; but everything will change with time and a slow development, overthrowing the bad times that he could experience as a partner while evolving into someone capable to keep a relationship of respect and lots of mutual and understanding love.

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter 7

Warnings: swearing, angst

Sam returned from dropping Cookie at her new home hoping he could get to his room and changed into workout gear without running into anyone. Unfortunately, luck wasn't with him and he heard someone in the kitchen. He decided to speed walk past and hope that whoever it was, was too busy to notice him. That didn't work out either and as he heard Bucky calling his name, Sam cursed softly before stopping.

"Hey Bucky, what's up?"

Bucky looked at him, confused "Why are you coming from the hangar? I didn't hear about any mission."

Sam shook his head "Just a quick errand, not a mission."

Bucky's brow furrowed "On a quinjet? What's the story?"

Sam smirked "Sorry, Terminator. It's classified, I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you." He laughed out loud as he walked away.

They met in the gym a short while later and Bucky kept needling Sam to find out what he was up to but Sam held his tongue, even after Bucky gave him a black eye.

In the wee hours of the next morning, Tony Stark was fighting off sleep when he received an email notification *Transfer of Personnel*. Curious, because he hadn't approved any changes, he read through the email growing more and more angry as he realized what it said. He turned up his music and cursed for 5 minutes straight. Once he calmed down, he composed and sent an urgent email.

The Avengers, their ancillary staff and the new head of intel for the compound all received emails accompanied by an alarm, meaning that whatever it was, was urgent, forcing all of them up and out of bed.

Bucky looked at his phone which said 4am, cursing and threw on a shirt and sweats before heading to the conference room. As he grew closer he saw other Avengers and some staff that he knew but others he wasn't familiar with, all trudging the same way he was. He looked at his phone and saw it was 4:15 and swore again. Some poor intern was standing at the conference room door, in her bathrobe and slippers, handing out coffees to anyone who wanted one. Bucky took one and nodded in thanks before sitting at the table by Steve and across from Nat, Sharon and Yelena.

"Why are you here punk? Doesn't being retired mean you don't have to deal with this bullshit?"

Steve shrugged "Ask Tony, we were up late working so I slept in my old room and he included me in his email."

When the room was almost full Tony came in hands shaking, from anger or caffeine was hard to tell but he'd obviously had too much of both. Sam followed behind him.

Tony cleared his throat.

"Alright. Everyone sit down and shut the Hell up."

He paused for a moment to let everyone settle down before he spoke with an edge to his voice

"I want all of you to know how absolutely fucking furious I am right now so you can appreciate how hard I'm working to control myself."

Everyone looked at him with tired eyes before he continued

"First, I want you all to meet our liaison with the intel office here, this is Dylan, supervisor for the Compound intelligence office."

Dylan stood and waved nervously before quickly sitting down.

Steve looked confused "Why won't Cookie be our contact anymore?"

Bucky straightened up and looked at Steve when he heard him mention Cookie. He noticed Sam hadn't said anything and knew he was closest to Cookie lately. Sam looked suspiciously calm, considering what Tony just told them.

Bucky jumped when Tony slapped the table and shouted

"I want to know which one of you assholes made Cookie leave without even saying goodbye? I woke up this morning to an email from Fury letting me know she moved to a different office." Tony paused, panting "I wanna know who is going to make my cookies now? One of you fuckers better step up and find a way to get her to come back or there will be Hell to pay."

Bucky sat back in his chair in shock. He had planned to talk to Cookie soon, he just felt so guilty over hurting her again and again. He knew she deserved better than a broken man like him and when he had finally convinced himself that he deserved to be happy and finally showed her how he felt and spent the night with her, Nat had pulled him into Antonia's web. All he had done since then was hurt her, repeatedly.

Tony hadn't stopped ranting until he looked at Bucky "It was you, Manchurian, wasn't it?" He looked over at Nat, then Sharon and Yelena "and you three. You were all controlled by Antonia, and that's fucked up no question but Cookie got a pretty bad deal in all this too and she considered all of you her friends. So what did you do?"

All four of them looked down at their hands and mumbled incoherently.

Sam cleared his throat

"They didn't do anything, not a god damned thing."

He looked pointedly at each of them "You all acted like acknowledging her would prove that you hurt her and Cookie was so worried that you all seeing her around was making your healing more difficult so she left to make your lives easier while not one of you could be bothered to even try talking to her or spare a thought for her feelings or healing."

Bucky looked at Sam "So where is she?" Something occurred to him "That's your secret mission yesterday, wasn't it? You took her away from me." he accused.

Sam shook his head "No Barnes, you pushed her away. Even after you've been cleared by medical, you didn't even try to talk to her. Just kept skulking around, making her feel guilty."

"But she didn't do anything wrong why would she feel guilty?" Bucky argued

Sam rolled his eyes. "Just take a minute to think about it, you'll get there."

Bucky slowly figured out what Sam was talking about and his head fell. He knew he needed to talk to her, even Dr Raynor who he had been seeing 3 times a week had pushed him to tell her but he hadn't felt ready for Cookie to confirm what he already knew. Even though it wasn't really his fault it was still him and their chances for any kind of relationship were dead.

Bucky felt his eyes fill with tears "It's my fault Cookie is gone but I need to find a way to talk to her and convince her to come home." He looked at Sam "Where is she?"

Sam shook his head "Not a chance. Not until Cookie gives me the ok. Sorry, tin man."

Bucky growled and hit the table, making Tony shout until Bucky glared at him before stalking out of the room.

When Tony was done ranting, Steve left to find Bucky. He went to Bucky's room but he wasn't there. Or in the kitchen or common room. Steve was ready to give up when Friday's alarm blared and announced that the sprinklers had come on in the Avengers private gym which was limited to the team and a select few agents. It was rarely used since the team was usually training with recruits, except for Bucky.

By the time Steve made it to the gym, Bucky was kneeling in the middle of the destroyed room, breathing heavily, sprinklers raining down on him.

"It's my fault, Steve. I fucked everything up and now she's gone." He shook his head "I can't do this without her, I don't know how to deal with all of this every day without her by my side like she has been for the last 2 years." He looked at Steve sadly "What do I do now? How can I get her back?"

Steve shrugged and shook his head "I don't know Buck, I just don't know."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In her new city, Cookie woke up in her new townhouse and got ready for her first day in a new office. Considering how the compound had felt recently she enjoyed having her own kitchen and living area. No one avoiding or ignoring her, making her feel bad for just existing in their space.

Different office but the same job and she already knew all of the analysts here, had hired most of them, but people behaved differently when the boss was around.

It was a beautiful spring day so Cookie decided to walk the short distance to her office. Like the compound her department only took up a floor but instead of Avengers they were surrounded by CIA agents, definitely not as friendly but that was fine with her. Cookie was more interested in work than any personal entanglements with her co-workers.

Cookie entered the building and went directly to S.W.O.R.D. Director Tyler Hayward. He was an ambitious man who wasn't thrilled to have someone in 'his office' who reported to someone else and wasn't in his control but he wasn't going to risk going against Fury so affixed a fake smile to his face and welcomed Cookie to the office.

They spoke for a few minutes before he led her to a conference room to meet with all of the analysts that report to Cookie. Annie was the senior analyst and had known Cookie for a few years so showed her to her new office.

Annie and Cookie had become good long distance friends, bonding over their shared love of mystery books.

When they arrived in Cookies office, Annie told her about a new book release by an author they both loved. The party was this coming Saturday and the publishing company had their offices a few buildings over. Annie had been able to get her name on the guest list and wanted Cookie to be her plus one since Annie's girlfriend didn't care for mysteries.

Cookie responded enthusiastically and they planned to have a late dinner after the party. Cookie was excited to have the opportunity to look around Boston and maybe meet Harland Thrombey.

She thought to herself. Maybe the move wouldn't be so bad after all.

Cookie had a busy week getting settled into her new office and butting heads with Tyler over some tips she had offered to streamline some of their processes. She went to work for a few hours on Saturday before meeting Annie for a mani-pedi after lunch. She went home to get dressed in a purple, silk, cocktail dress with a deep v-neck that fell just above her knees. Adding black stilettos and clutch to complete the look.

She met Annie at the entrance to the building, they checked each other out appreciatively and linked arms as they walked into the party.

A tall, well built, dark blonde haired man noticed Cookie's entrance and his bright blue eyes followed her around the room, after deciding the tall woman he had never seen before would be the evenings prey.

He approached them as she was getting a drink "You're new in town."

Cookie looked at him curiously, feeling her face heat up as he so obviously checked her out. She nodded "I am. Are you the welcoming committee?"

The man nodded "For a lady as pretty as you, I will endeavour to be welcoming." He took her hand and kissed the back "Ransom Drysdale, pleased to meet you."

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N but my friends call me Cookie, this is my friend Annie. Your name is familiar but I can't- oh my gosh you're Harland Thrombey's grandson. One of the VP's here."

Ransom smiled and made a small bow "That's me. Would you like to meet him?"

Annie and Cookie nodded enthusiastically and took the arms Ransom offered to lead her over to meet his grandfather who was as kind and gracious as she hoped he would be. Unfortunately the party was crowded and there were many others waiting to meet the author, so they only chatted for a few minutes.

Shortly after they met Harland, Annie's girlfriend called, asking her to pick up some infants pain killer as their daughter had woken up from teething pain. She tried to apologize but Cookie shooed her away and promised she would find her own way home.

As soon as Annie was out of sight, Ransom smiled at Cookie and licked his lips. "So, Cookie, do you want to get out of here? My club has a great late supper menu if you're hungry or I'm sure we can find something to do."

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx @blackhawkfanatic @casey1-2007 @scott-loki-barnes @selella

Chapter 8

[avionvadion]

What do you think about Skully now with that ending to the latest part?

Hmmm... my opinion is still about the same as it was before.

That said, I do think Skully is less twisted from Jack in general and more the Jack we could have gotten had Jack not had Sally steering him in the right direction at every corner. Because Jack may have been the protagonist of the movie, but he was also momentarily a villain. If Jack didn't have Sally, then after he was shot down there's a good chance we wouldn't have gotten "Poor Old Jack". He would have stayed a villain, and would have potentially tried to take revenge. He might have even pulled an Oogie from Oogie's Revenge and tried to become the Seven Holidays King.

There would've been no, "What have I done? What have I done? How could I~ be so blind? All is lost, where was I? Spoiled all... spoiled all. Everything's gone... all wrong. What have I done? What have I done?"

No guilt. No remorse. Just anger.

Because we do see him get angry. But because he had someone always reminding him about the good he has the capability to bring without taking over someone else's job, Jack reflects on himself during his rage, and realizes, "Well, what the heck? I went and did my best! And, by god, I really tasted something swell! And, for a moment, why, I even touched the sky! And at least I left some stories they can tell- I did!"

Skully never had the support system Jack did. He has the same stubborness as Jack, the same love of opera (Hehehe gods that reference to Oogie's Revenge still makes me so happy) and the same love of Halloween. But Skully isn't twisted from "Jack Skellington". No, no. Not the skeleton we all know and love, who's well-meaning, but stubborn and a bit... naive when it comes to recognizing the consequences his actions can have.

Skully is twisted from the "Pumpkin King".

The king of horror, the entity that strikes fear into all hearts. The one who makes walls fall, mountains crack, and flesh ooze and skin crawl. He is the darkness that lies within Jack's heart (gods this turned into Kingdom Hearts whoops) and is lashing out because the Pumpkin King in him can't stand how happy and joyous this Halloween is becoming.

And now, because "everything's... gone all wrong" Skully is taking matters into his own hands. He's put Jack to sleep, transformed Grim using his unique magic and stuffed him in a sack, and abducted Yuu- dragging them with him, with help from Lock, Shock, and Barrel. I don't doubt Yuu and Grim are going to be Sandy Claws in this situation. He's probably going to enlist Oogie Boogie's help in bring true terror to the town.

(I think there was a novel about how Oogie and Jack used to be childhood friends, but fell apart when they started competing to be Pumpkin King??? I'm not really sure. I only know about the PS2 game, Oogie's Revenge, and the Card Game- which gives a lot of interesting details about the townsfolk, and Long Live The Pumpkin Queen which features Sally as the main character. But if the novel is canon then I could see them potentially pulling from Jack and Oogie's childhood friendship to explain why Skully is working with Oogie. It'd be another parallel.)

WOW, this got long. Um, but yeah. I still really like Skully, lol. I'm really curious to see how the rest of this is going to play out and how we'll be snapping Skully out of his madness.

Baby boy went full on Yandere for Halloween, like DAMN.

[steddieas-shegoes]

frankie

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'freak'

rated t | 930 words | cw: temporary character death | tags: canon-adjacent events, frankie pov, eddie munson lives

🔴🔴🔴🔴🔴🔴🔴🔴🔴🔴🔴🔴🔴

Frankie doesn't think he's a freak. He knows he's not the typical teenager, but he definitely knows there's weirder dudes out there.

Take Eddie Munson, for example. He's fuckin' weird.

He knows people call him a freak for a lot of reasons: he's got long hair, likes heavy metal, plays DnD, and is allegedly queer.

Frankie stays under the radar as much as possible, but he ends up at Eddie's table, sitting next to his one and only friend, Jeff. Eddie's starting a DnD club, needs people who are serious about playing long campaigns. He's a senior and "wants to leave a legacy."

Jeff convinces him to try it out.

He tries it out.

He has fun.

He becomes a freak, too.

And, actually, Eddie isn't really a freak. He's eccentric, sure, but he's definitely not what everyone implies when they call him that.

He's kind in his own way, inviting to people where most other kids at school have their cliques and don't let anyone else in. He's funny, too, sometimes completely unintentionally.

His Uncle is nice enough to let them use their trailer for campaigns, at least until Eddie is able to convince the school to let them use the storage room in the auditorium. They have to fight for space, especially when it comes time for the end of year drama club performance.

Frankie doesn't think much about what will happen when Eddie graduates. He assumed Jeff will run the club since he's Eddie's right hand man.

But Eddie doesn't graduate.

Frankie starts to get into the same music as him, no longer worried about wearing his Black Sabbath shirt to school. It's just music.

He doesn't worry about shaving his head, letting his natural curls grow out a little.

Maybe he's more of a freak than he thought, but it doesn't bother him when he hears others whisper it under their breath. Eddie wears it like a badge of honor, and now he does too.

****

When the news reports that Eddie is the suspect in the murder of Chrissy Cunningham, Frankie knows they've got it wrong.

Eddie is a lot of things, he's a freak, he's different. But he's not a murderer.

He's also gay as fuck, and while very few people know that, Frankie knows he had no intentions with that girl other than to sell to her. Maybe he should have been more careful, but he's gotten away with it this long. Eddie never pushes anything on anyone, only sells to those who seek him out, so there's no way she wasn't the one who wanted drugs.

It seemed to Frankie like a wrong place, wrong time situation for all involved.

Eddie was missing, which means he got scared and ran, and Frankie isn't sure what that means for any of them.

Everything is hanging in a weird balance for days.

Gareth swears he saw him in an RV when his parents dragged him to The War Zone, but no one believed him. Frankie didn't not believe him, he just figured Eddie was probably already out of the state.

Guilty people may run, but so do innocent people with a bounty on their head.

***

Frankie doesn't think Eddie is coming back.

He sees Dustin crying and handing Wayne something. He sees Steve Harrington of all people in Eddie's vest, a vest that now has some suspicious stains on it.

No one mentions him for a while.

Gareth is a mess, and Jeff keeps saying that he'll come back, but the news spreads that he's dead and Frankie feels like he's the only one who is taking that seriously. He doesn't realize how much he's hurting until they're standing in Jeff's garage with no idea how to fill the space Eddie left in the band.

"I think we should have auditions," Jeff says quietly.

"I think you should fuck yourself," Gareth bites back.

Jeff sighs. Gareth crosses his arms.

"I think you guys should come with me," Lucas interrupts from the driveway.

They go with him because Frankie is sure he wouldn't have even spoken to them if it wasn't important. They barely talked since everything happened over Spring Break, but now that school's starting up again, they'll need to figure out Hellfire Club.

He leads them out of the neighborhood and towards the neighborhood at the bottom of the hill: Loch Nora. The nice neighborhood.

It's hot and Frankie and Gareth are both sweating by the time they make it to their destination: Steve Harrington's house.

"You guys can't say shit to anyone, got it? You'll put us all at risk." Lucas is glaring at all of them as he knocks in a very specific pattern on the front door.

"Are you leading us to our deaths?" Frankie asks, only half-joking.

"Despite what Mayfield thinks, I'm not gonna kill anyone."

"Eddie!" Gareth yells as he runs past Frankie and Jeff into the house.

"Alright, keep it down." Steve says from the couch. "Neighbors don't need to know he's hiding out here."

"Holy shit, it's good to see you," Jeff finally says as it registers that Eddie is actually in front of them.

"You know, I was prepared to take on the role of freak," Frankie said quietly. "Just to protect all your sheepies."

Eddie smiled at him. "Yeah?"

Frankie nodded.

"Well, you still can. I'm not gonna go back to school anyway."

"So what will you do?" Frankie asked.

"Not sure," Eddie shrugged. "Teach you my ways, I guess."

Frankie smiled at him. "First lesson: how'd you come back from the dead, dude?"

[saintsenara]

Hi saintsenara, I’d like to know your thoughts on the Trace etc because you always seem to have a a really lucid and informed perspective of, well, everything

I never liked how the Ministry and Hogwarts are able to automatically and infallibly detect muggleborns. I feel like the ramifications of that aren’t properly dealt with but I also think that it’d be more interesting and plausible if muggleborns had to be looked for.

I also feel like the Trace is dealt with very strangely. When is that integrated? Is it just automatic for muggleborn students or would the school’s representative (ie. Dumbledore for Tom and McGonagall for Hermione ) place it? If they can place these restrictions on children remotely then why couldn’t they for, say, Death Eaters or Sirius Black? It doesn’t make sense to me that there is anything about the Trace that would make it only applicable to underage wizards and witches. If they need to do something to the children to place the Trace then why can’t they do that with all Azkaban inmates as a preventative measure? Is it simply too outrageous to do that to adult wizards? Is the Trace too easily broken? If the Trace is easily breakable then the Order would’ve broken it for Harry in Deathly Hallows, wouldn’t they?

The lack of thought enrages me!

the thing which has to be borne in mind with the trace is that its narrative purpose is primarily as a coming-of-age experience - it's the threshold which wizarding teenagers need to cross to become legal adults.

and not only this, it's primarily an allusion to the real life coming-of-age experience which defines [or, certainly, which defined in the 2000s, gen z are famously more abstemious] british and irish teenage life...

becoming old enough to legally drink.

when i was a teenager, eighteenth birthdays were a big deal precisely because of the opportunities they afforded to get legally boozed. i was in the supermarket at 10am on mine, passport in hand, buying a disgusting bottle of own brand vodka [which i don't think i or any of my friends ever touched] just because i could.

but the word "legally" is important in this context. because, while the legal drinking age in the uk and ireland is eighteen... that doesn't mean that most teenagers wait until then for their first sip. and nobody - adults in positions of authority such as police, teachers, social workers, doctors etc. included - thinks they do.

and that's because the law is actually more ambiguous than it seems. in the uk, it's legal for children as young as five to drink alcohol in a private residence [!]. in england, scotland, and wales [but not northern ireland], sixteen year olds can legally drink some types of alcohol in licensed premises as long as they're eating a meal.

as a result, the legal penalties for underage drinking are basically non-existent [for the drinker, that is; they can be reasonably hefty for anyone caught selling to under 18s]... if there's nothing else in play which might attract the state's attention.

or: i went to a house party at a friend's when i was fifteen, drank a bottle of rose, broke up with my boyfriend, and ended up sobbing in her garden at the top of my lungs about how men are dogs at 2am, and was then sick.

this friend and i were both white, grammar-school-educated, generally-perceived-as-sensible teenage girls, whose families were well-known and well-liked. the neighbours, seeing me having an absolute flop of a night, could say "ah, the folly of youth, we were all young once, the lasses are in high spirits etc. etc."

but without the protection afforded by social acceptability, maybe they'd have interpreted the situation very differently, and called the police or contacted social services about my friend's mam letting us drink there, or so on.

the trace functions in the same way. the actual law on underage magic - that it's totally illegal - is obviously nonsense. we know in canon that children in wizarding households can use magic before they're seventeen, because - as dumbledore says - the ministry is happy to trust their parents to regulate them doing so.

that is, in families which have the standing afforded by conformity to social convention [especially in living separately from muggles], underage magic can be seen as all a bit of a laugh.

but muggleborns are viewed in the eyes of the state as risks, until they reach adulthood and - in all the cases we meet in canon - remove themselves from the world of their birth entirely. the ministry's main aim - the thing it's preoccupied with - is preventing muggles from learning that magic exists. therefore, anyone magical who lives in a muggle household is subject to much more surveillance than those who don't.

[if the weasley twins do magic in the burrow's garden, who cares? if harry does it in the middle of little whinging, countless muggles might see!]

when it comes to how muggleborns are detected, i actually quite like the extra-canonical information jkr has given about the quill of acceptance and the book of admittance [which is on pottermore]. where i don't agree with it is that i don't think all muggleborns are admitted to hogwarts.

i've said a few times - and, for my askbox girlies, i will write the longer meta on this, i promise - that i think hogwarts applies some form of selection process, which explains why the class-status of the intake [including the muggleborn students we meet in canon] is near-uniform.

as a result, i think that muggleborn students are looked for - they're observed and vetted to make sure they'll fit in at hogwarts - and the interview they have with the deputy head is the final stage in that process.

when they're accepted to hogwarts [or when they actually start at the school, to give hermione the summer of trying spells she mentions in philosopher's stone] i think it's fair to imagine that the trace comes into effect, but that it's only ever going to cause alarm at the ministry if it's broken when students - of any background - are in muggle areas.

which means very little for wizard-raised students - who can do magic at home whenever they want - but restricts the freedom of muggleborn ones.

when it comes to restricting adult magic... we know - because sirius mentions it in prisoner of azkaban - that inmates are deprived of their wands. jkr has retconned how possible magic is without a wand in her post-series writing, but the evidence of canon is that all but the most basic, unsophisticated magic is impossible without one.

losing access to a wand - and, therefore, losing access to magic - is how the state restricts adults' use of magic [which is what happens to hagrid when he acquires his criminal record for manslaughter]. and this is actually a more strictly enforceable and much harsher punishment - it's basically the permanent deprivation of the wizarding world's fundamental marker of liberty - than the trace, which, while it is enshrined in law, basically amounts to nothing more than a fairly loosely-enforced social barrier between childhood and adulthood for 90% of the population.

[casscainmainly]

Small question, does it have to be Gotham for Cass? There's charas like Dick that can go establish their identity in a different city. Then there's Bruce, Steph, Jason and Duke who are so intrinsically tied to Gotham that this has to be the city for them. Where does Cass lie on this spectrum? Tq!

EXCELLENT question. I think Cass' situation is somewhat unique because of the way her character was handled post-Batgirl (2000).

In favour of Cass not staying in Gotham, she doesn't have the same emotional connection to Gotham as the four people you listed. She wasn't raised there, and in Batgirl (2000), she has next to no ties to Gotham civilians. In fact, it's when she moves to Bludhaven in Gabrych's run that she gains her first civilian friend and civilian love interest. The iconic volving panel is from Bludhaven, too. It's undeniable that the distance from Gotham, from Bruce (and arguably Babs), helps her grow:

Batgirl (2000) #71

It can't be overstated how important ownership is to Cass. To own something means, necessarily, that you not an object. You are a person who something belongs to, and who belongs to something. By calling Bludhaven the "first place that's ever been... mine," she's explicitly saying that Gotham was not hers. Bludhaven was the first place that made her feel fully human.

But there are caveats to this. Cass goes to Bludhaven in the wake of Stephanie's death, a Gothamite through and through. It's probable that Steph's death colours her view of Gotham here, and her willingness to embrace Bludhaven is in response to the pain that Gotham now brings her. (This is also after Babs calls Cass stupid). Feeling like Gotham doesn't belong to her might stem from these specific circumstances, and not be applicable in current canon.

Still, if the story had ended there, I'd say Cass doesn't need to stay in Gotham. Unfortunately, it doesn't.

Red Robin (2009) #17

After Bruce's death, Cass goes to Hong Kong. Well, 'goes' is putting it nicely. She was written off to make Steph Batgirl, which resulted in Cass a) not appearing in most comics, b) being stripped of the bat symbol, and c) being isolated from everyone she cares about, besides Tim. It's a horrific and undeserved fate, reversing everything Cass' story once stood for (narrative agency; becoming a hero; finding a family).

Though Cass regains the symbol and becomes the Bat of Hong Kong, she is no longer part of the narrative; her distance from Gotham became a representation of her distance from narrative importance. That's the real danger of Cass leaving Gotham - unlike Dick, who is a big enough character to be guaranteed solos in Blud, Cass leaving Gotham will forever hold the threat of erasure.

I'm discussing this in a meta-textual sense, but textually Cass knows the danger too.

Gates of Gotham #5

Here, Cass rebuffs Dick's assertion that Gotham will never keep either of them because they don't belong. She says, "It's about how you choose to see the world. Everything else is just an excuse." She's repudiating multiple things: editorial's decision to boot her from Gotham; Bruce's decision to take Batgirl away; even, somewhat, Dick's ascension to the Bat mantle when she wasn't given a chance.

This is ultimately why, though Cass could work elsewhere, I think she should work in Gotham. It's the place she ran to after David Cain, the place she chose to stay in, and the place that gave her Batgirl. Most importantly, it's the place that rejected her. It's not about Gotham itself - It's about how she was ejected from it, and how she fought her way back, over and over again. Cass staying in Gotham ensures history doesn't repeat itself. It rewards Cass fans who survived OYL, Batman Inc, and New 52 with the light at the end of the tunnel.

This is just my opinion! I do love her stint in Bludhaven, so I understand other people preferring her elsewhere. Just for me, she may not belong to Gotham in the way Bruce, Steph, Duke, Jay, or Babs does, but she deserves to be there.

[blazinghotfoggynights]

Buck is obviously pissed at Gerrard in those stills.

Eddie is telling him to cut it out.

So, bear with me here...

What if....

Buck is furious for some reason and Eddie sees him about to go off. Those two are martyrs when it comes to each other. So, Eddie is using a hand to push Buck back or hold him back, but Gerrard doesn't let up. Eddie sees Buck about to lash out.

Keep in mind the end of season 7 showed us an Eddie who is not stable. Eddie is not thinking clearly, in case the whole Kim situation didn't make that obvious.

Eddie, not quite in the right frame of mind, reacts. Instead of letting Buck ruin his career and life, Eddie, who thinks he has already lost everything that matters, throws a punch. If Eddie feels like he has nothing to lose, in his mind, it would make sense. He protects Buck, who is not expendable, who he trusts with Chris more than anyone else.

Some people will say Eddie wouldn't do anything which could jeopardize his livelihood because of Christopher. A clear-thinking Eddie Diaz who isn't lost and without his son would never. This guy? We don't know much about him. Hell, Eddie Diaz doesn't know much about him!

That could lead to Buck demanding to know why Eddie would do something so stupid and Eddie being forced to examine his whole life to look for the answer because he genuinely doesn't know. All he knows is that he lost his son, his best friend is slipping away, in his mind, and he subconsciously feels he has nothing to lose, so why not take care of those he loves, even if it means sacrificing himself.

What if someone points out best friends aren't like Buck and Eddie and maybe he needs to ask himself why he reacts the way he does when it's Buck. My bet would be on Hen telling Eddie and Maddie telling Buck the same thing: Their friendship isn't typical.

Couldn't that trigger a self-discovery arc? Which could lead to answers Eddie isn't ready to face. Truths he must run from and hide from. But at some point, you run out of steam and places to hide. Eventually, the truth tends to come out.

PS: It may or may not ever become canon, but if I get enough free time, I will work on making it fanon.

[webanglikethat]

Hiiii just wanna say this is a slay blog (got all my interests, from Conan to kpop to rc to Taylor to GTop... ANYWAYS can you yap about Conan? Anything about Conan you feel like you could write a PhD only /lh. Have a nice day!

omg hi !!! are we like platonic soulmates? I can't believe we like all the same things !! that made me so excited <33

also omg you can't just ask me to yap cause I WILL shortcircuit and forget everything /j /lh 😭

well we could talk about how the whole Kaishin accident of last year was .. Something.

Gosho HIMSELF stated that MK (Magic Kaito) and DC were in separate universes and were not canon to each other. one of the main differences between the two is that in MK magic actually exists, which I feel like would ruin DC's plotline (just think of the fake 'magic episodes' like the dog on fire episode).

-> so how do their crossovers work? don't ask me idk 😭

if I remember correctly, in MK it was even implied the Professor is the one who built Kaito's gadgets so like ???

I think Gosho messed up by not making these two worlds unite in the first place. I mean he did write MK first then gave up on it, but I still think he has made the plotline and worldbuilding flawed. he shouldn't have flat out said they were not relevant to each other. ofc he couldn't have foreseen how popular DC would become but still.

and his father being alive ?????????? TO BE FAIR we kinda knew that since like 2017 already BUT still ????

from the very beginning, Kaito’s whole reason for becoming Kaito Kid was to figure out the truth about his dad’s death. he thought his father was killed because of this shady organization that’s hunting for the Pandora gem, a magical stone that supposedly grants immortality. it’s a HUGE responsibility for a high schooler, but he took it all on because he loved his dad and wanted justice !!! like he is still just a child !!!! now the organization thinks HE is the original KID !! and he is in danger !!! but he won't give up !!!!!

and then they are like, “oh, by the way, Toichi faked his death and let Kaito think he was dead for years.” YEARS. do you know how damaging that is??? Kaito grew up grieving. he put himself in so many life-threatening situations because he thought it was the only way to honor his father’s memory. and now we find out that Toichi let his own son suffer through all of that on purpose? ON PURPOSE ?????

and yes, maybe Toichi had some big reason for faking his death. maybe he thought it was the only way to keep Kaito safe or whatever. I'm assuming it's gonna relate to the Organization plotline. but like guess what? it didn’t work cause Kaito still ended up in danger!!!!!! so good fucking job !!!! like you're telling me he is oh sooo good at masking himself and he couldn't have faked a new identity?

and you know who else failed Kaito? Yusaku Kudo.

he’s Kaito’s uncle, which means he absolutely knew what was going on. he knew about his 'death'. he knew Kaito lost a father. he knew he was grieving his dad. and what did Yusaku do? absolutely nothing. you're telling me that not even ONCE he went to see him? Toichi is still alive and in contact with Yusaku and that just . Is Okay to Them???

I mean does Yukiko know??

if they were cousins, why have they never tried to interact before? even if their families were distant, you’d think someone would have mentioned the connection. Yukiko was Toichi's student, she should have known about Kaito, right? but in every interaction we’ve seen, Yukiko talks about Toichi as if he was just her teacher, nothing more. no fond family anecdotes, no “Oh, how’s Kaito doing?”—just silence. if she knew they were cousins, wouldn’t she have at least acknowledged the connection? did Yusaku just . Lie to her??? for like what, 20+ years? if Yukiko and Toichi were related, she would have brought it up at some point especially since Yukiko is a bit of a gossip and loves to tease people (what a queen, I love her). you think she wouldn’t have mentioned her oh so pretty and charming nephew Kaito in all her dramatic flair? no way.

then there’s Kaito’s symbolic funeral for Toichi. where were the Kudo family members? if they’re actually related, how do you justify none of them showing up?

also agree with this point: post here

grief was/is a huge part of who Kaito was. this just cheapens everything.

it’s lazy writing, plain and simple. Gosho could’ve explored their connection in so many interesting ways without making Kaishin related. this also downplays Toichi/Yusaku's dynamic cause all the times Yusaku stopped Toichi he was just stopping his own brother lmao.

instead, he threw in a cheap twist that doesn’t add anything to the story and actively detracts from what was already established.

mfers when they see their nephew:

also I hate the 'oh they but look similar, how did you not know?' argument like;

mf this is them:

Gosho you will prey kaishin out of my DEAD hands (and I don't even care about this ship that much!). these two KISS on the MOUTH.

& let's be real: there’s no way Gosho can sweep this under the rug with some heartwarming reunion or throwaway explanation. his father can't just show up and be like 'Hi child! I am alive! let's get some food to eat and discuss your school grades'. I desperately hope it won't be some comedic relief situation, or a joke or whatever. this is DARK.

I suppose the worst part is that Kaito didn’t spend his life secretly hoping Toichi was alive or refusing to believe the evidence. he accepted that his father is dead. Kaito grieved fully. yk how there are characters that are like, 'no, my dad is alive! nobody belives me but please, I know it!'. that simply is not Kaito.

when Kaito finds out Toichi is alive it’s not going to be pretty. IT BETTER NOT BE. Kaito isn’t the type to have a “you’re back, I missed you” moment. I hope he's going to be furious because he’ll feel betrayed, lied to, and robbed of the years he spent mourning. he should be allowed to take a few swings at him tbh -

Gosho NEEDS to dive into the emotional consequences. if Gosho skips over that, it’s going to feel like a complete disservice to Kaito’s character. it needs to be ugly and messy. this can't be fixed immediately. it should be over few different ARCs imo.

another sad part is how Kaito pretty much lives in father’s shadow, trying so hard to live up to this idealized version of Toichi; a version that probably never existed in the first place because he doesn't know his father. he has to piece together the prettiest colours of his memories, from scraps of tales, fragmented news, and his own desperate need for a father figure. when your eyes forget your father's face, tinted glasses veil your orbs.

and in doing so, he put Toichi on this pedestal so high that he could never realistically reach it, no matter how good he actually became. and the worst part is, he DID surpass his father. yes, Toichi was undoubtedly skilled, but Kaito is doing all of this crazy fucking shit while being a teenager. fighting the organization, fighting pirates, risking his life MULTIPLE times? like that one time he almost was blown up in the train?

and Kaito doesn’t even realize it. he’s so fixated on this perfect image of his father that he can’t see how far he’s come. he can’t see that he’s not just living up to his father’s legacy—he’s surpassing it. and maybe to admit that he surpassed it would feel like a betrayal to his father.

I just hate this. you spend so much of your life idolizing your parents, because if you don't, then it also feels like a betrayal. you spend years justifying their mistakes, convincing yourself that everything will make sense someday, that they’ll come through, that they’re doing their best. you try to make sense of why they aren’t there when you need them, why they aren't the people you thought they were. and then the worst thing happens: you realize you’ve been holding onto an image of them that wasn’t real. and not only that, but you were the one who built it. you’re the one who put them on that pedestal in the first place, because you didn’t want to see them as flawed. you couldn’t afford to, because it would mean that everything you thought you understood about your relationship with them was a lie. you lose the last thread of control you had.

so then you paint the walls of your heart with this fantasy version of them, and you know deep down they could never live up to it. idealization is a double-edged sword. when you only see a person as perfect, you set yourself up for constant disappointment, because no one is perfect, and you’ll never be able to live up to the expectations you’ve placed on them cause people are messy and flawed.

so yeah, TLDR: Kaito deserves better. he deserves to be angry, to grieve the years he lost, the loss of normalcy, the loss of his teenage years, and to hold Toichi accountable for the pain he caused. whether or not Gosho will give him that remains to be seen, but if he doesn’t, it’s going to be a massive betrayal — not just to Kaito, but to the fans who’ve followed his story all these years.

in conclusion: