#pretty proud of this actually ngl
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Part 3 of thinking about the reaction another universe's Logan would have to meeting Wade. To Wade and Logan's relationship.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 4
---
Logan hadn't left Wade's side since he got here. Eventually, Wade managed to convince him to calm down enough that he could briefly explain to the X-men that this was his Logan, the one from his universe, who came looking for him.
His Logan hovered close to him, practically plastered to his side as if he'd disappear the second he took his eyes off him. Other-Logan was nowhere to be seen.
Eventually, they returned to Wade's room for the night. The X-men offered Logan a room of his own, but he point-blank refused.
When Wade crawled into the twin-sized bed (which definitely wasn't big enough to comfortably fit two people), Logan slipped under the covers behind him. Logan pressed his nose to Wade's neck and released a shaky breath of relief.
He could finally relax now that he was alone, away from the probing crowd that reminded him too much of memories he'd rather leave in the past. Now that he could focus on Wade. His scent, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the sound of his breathing.
The exhaustion hit Logan like a truck. He'd barely gotten any sleep in the past month Wade's been missing, and when he did it was fitful and left him feeling inexplicably more tired when he awoke. He didn't realize how much he depended on the comfort of Wade's presence to sleep until it was gone.
(When he was alone, it reminded him of being back in his universe. Of waking up in the middle of the night, claws unsheathed, breathing wildly. Of realizing he was completely alone, that everyone he cared about was dead. Of popping open a bottle of liquor just to silence the noise of his own thoughts.)
Wade reminded him that he was in a new universe, now. That he wasn't alone. Logan wrapped his arms around him, securely (tight enough to not let him escape) and finally, finally, let himself breathe.
Wade hummed, content at feeling the hot breath of Logan on his neck as he drifted off to sleep. For the first time in a month, he felt warm. He felt safe. He felt comforted, knowing that Logan was here with him. Apparently having a life-sized human heater spoiled him and made it difficult to stomach sleeping alone.
They both fell asleep, comforted by the familiarity of each other's presence.
(It was the best sleep either of them had in weeks.)
---
The aftermath was just a little bit awkward.
Logan hardly left his side, warily glaring at anyone who came to disturb their peace as they went about their day. He seemed to still be on edge around the other X-men (and anyone who wasn't Wade in general).
Wade was sure it would be difficult for him to interact with them, too, if he'd seen and come to terms with all of their deaths. Of being responsible for the downfall of an alternate version of them. It must be jarring to see them alive and well, to see a distortion of the future he could've had with caricatures of his friends.
(It made Wade a little anxious to think that Logan was remembering it all. Reminiscing on a better time before Wade came and took him away from his world.)
Despite the companionship they'd built, Other-Logan had been making himself scarce. Wade was a little concerned about him, but he was more focused on his own version, who'd been acting as his own personal guard dog. (If a guard dog was 300 pounds and a fully grown man.)
Still, sometimes when they passed by each other, he swore he saw that same look in Other-Logan's eyes. The one he still had difficulty deciphering, but recognized as meaningful.
The one his Logan had in the first few weeks of living together. After they'd saved the world. (Maybe even before it.)
(He tried not to think too hard about it.)
The other X-men were just dancing around them. They seemed to be unsure of how to interact with a Logan so similar and yet so completely different from their own. The only member of the X-men who knew about this Logan's backstory was Wolverine and... let's just say it wasn't getting out anytime soon.
It was almost funny to watch their attempts to start a conversation with Logan only to be met with short, one-word responses. Almost. (It wasn't funny to feel how Logan tensed up next to him, how he smoothed over his expression and put himself on guard. To see the slight trembling of his clenched fists. To see the haunted looks in his eyes.)
And so they ended up accidentally (or purposefully, on Logan's part) avoiding everyone for the first few days.
Wade hadn't gone out on any missions in that time. Logan didn't seem like he was in any mood to go out with the others, and, quite frankly, neither was Wade. He didn't realize how much he missed Logan until he was here.
(And a part of him was relieved that Logan was choosing to stay with him. That he clung to him tightly and didn't seem to be tempted to go rubbing elbows with the other X-men anytime soon.)
He'd managed to fill Logan in after they first crashed from exhaustion together. Logan seemed equal parts concerned and relieved to find out that he'd been stranded because his device was broken. (Because that meant Wade wasn't kidnapped or in danger. Because that meant Wade didn't want to leave him behind.)
They'd been sleeping in the same bed ever since. Anytime the X-men brought up moving Logan to another room, a nicer one with a bigger bed, he just growled and muttered that he didn't need it. One time, they'd offered to move another twin-sized bed into Wade's room so that they could at least have their own place to sleep, but Logan gruffly and very quickly turned that down too.
They hadn't tried to separate them since.
Even when Charles Xavier himself called Logan into his office the morning after he arrived, Logan didn't seem to consider leaving Wade behind as an option. And so they'd both stumbled into the office, suspiciously pressed close together, to report Logan's arrival.
Not that Wade was complaining. He'd offer to be Wolvie's emotional support teddy bear any day. (Even if he got dragged around roughly like a toddler who didn't learn to play nice with or share their toys yet.)
Charles had looked at them oddly, a mix of what could only be described as surprise and then understanding crossing over his face. He didn't comment on Wade's presence, nor Logan's insistence to keep him close by.
(He'd pulled aside the other X-men shortly after and told them to not bother this Logan too much. That he'd been through things their Logan hadn't and that he wouldn't be very receptive to their presence. To not comment on his relationship with Wade and to let them be.)
(It had aroused a mixture of confusion and suspicion among the X-men. Scott and Jean exchanged concerned glances with each other. What could cause Logan to want to avoid them, even in another universe? What did Logan go through to be so wary of them? To rely on Deadpool, of all people, for emotional support?)
(And why was their Logan influenced as well?)
After that, things had gone fairly smoothly. Wade occasionally still annoyed Colossus, who'd begun to reluctantly accept his presence (and who Logan was the least on guard around, out of all of the X-men). It drew skeptical glances from the other X-men, who were surely wondering what reason Wade had to be bothering Colossus, of all people.
But other than that, they mainly kept to themselves.
Until today, that is.
Today, the other X-men had finally managed to find a lead on the man who'd KO'd Wolverine and Deadpool, shattering Wade's pathway back to his own universe. Apparently, he'd set up a new base, this time with better-equipped personnel.
Seemed the asshole wasn't working alone. Of fucking course. When Wade wanted a fight all he could find were pussies, but It couldn't ever be easy when Wade actually wanted to go home. Just his luck.
It was large-scale enough that the majority of the X-men were preparing to go on the raid. Not a good sign.
Of course, Wade had saddled in and prepared to go the second they said they had a lead. And of course, by default, that meant Logan was coming with him.
They'd both rested enough, and while they were slightly on edge, Wade doubted that was going to go away anytime soon until they got back to their own universe. It'd be better to just rip the bandaid off and get this shit over with so that they could curl up on their shitty pull-out couch and eat leftovers and let themselves decompress from whatever the fuck this mission was turning into.
After a quick debrief in which they essentially went over everyone's roles and the layout of the base (or what they knew of it, at least) they set off.
Logan and Wade were paired together, luckily (well, most likely intentionally from the sharp glare Logan shot everyone when they began discussing their roles). They were tasked with clearing out the enemies and working their way to the main base, which was unsurprising given their tank-like abilities and healing factors.
Wade stared out the window for most of the ride there (and Logan stared at Wade) and before he knew it, they'd arrived.
And wow. The villains had really outdone themselves in the cliche base department. If the abandoned nuclear power plant was basic, the shady abandoned military facility was the equivalent of a white girl who liked Starbucks and listened to Taylor Swift. Completely predictable and not at all original.
They all split off into smaller, individual teams and, after a quick confirmation, they went in.
The henchmen this time were vaguely impressive. Well, impressive in the sense the typical office worker was impressive compared to a 10-year-old. It actually took more than 5 seconds for Logan and Wade to clear out the first wave.
But a run-of-the-mill decent group of villains was no match for Wade and Logan's teamwork. If Other-Wolverine and Deadpool worked like a well-oiled machine, this Deadpool and Wolverine worked like they were fucking telepaths. Completely in sync, predicting each other's attack patterns and weaving in and out like they shared a set of strings puppeteering them.
(It caused a few of the X-men to stop and stare to watch. It was brutal and grotesque and... beautiful, in way, to see how quickly they plowed through the villains. The X-men knew teamwork—they were accustomed to it, with the whole superhero team shtick—but not this type of partnership. This type of innate, primal fluidity that allowed them to move as one.)
Before long, with a suprising lack of resistance, given this was supposed to be The Villain Base (although, to be fair, they did have the X-men playing cleanup crew around them and taking care of the rest), they finally made their way into what could only be reffered to as some sort of fucked-up evil lab.
The walls were lined with shady medical equipment and some type of alien technology, and, to no one's surprise, the same fucker as last time was standing in the center.
"Nice to see you again, Deadpool," he nodded. "And... nice to meet you, Wolverine."
OK, hold on a second. He thought it was weird that this guy knew his name the first time considering he was, y'know, new around these parts, but he'd brushed it off. Maybe there was an alternate version of him running around (even if he hadn't heard of one despite interrogating an absurd number of people connected to the underground). But to know that this was an alternate version of Wolverine, just upon seeing him?
It's like the asshole predicted their arrival in this dimension.
Wade tensed slightly, and judging by a glance at Logan next to him, he'd picked up on that discrepancy too.
"Hey, Cable 2.0. Or should I call you Evil Cable? Cable the destroyer? Actually, calling you Cable would be an insult to his brand. How about generic futuristic villain #46," Wade quipped, trying to steel his nerves and school his expression back into a grin.
"I assure you, I'm nothing like this Cable you speak of," the man replied, calmly, "If he were similar to me, you wouldn't be standing here right now."
"Oooooh, scary, I think I almost pissed my pants! Quick, Wolvie, hide me, I'm quivering in my boots!" Wade ducked behind Logan, voice rising high from mock-fear. Logan merely grunted, but allowed him to hide behind him for the bit. (See, even Logan must agree he's funny if he's playing along.)
The man blinks at them, clearly unimpressed, before raising his gun. Okay, so they're getting right into it. Fun.
Logan unsheathed his claws and Wade gripped his guns tightly.
And then the fight behind.
This Logan and Wade had better teamwork compared to the last encounter. Their teamwork was down to a science, or a particularly bloody work of art.
Unfortunately, this time, their opponent knew their attack patterns. He was deflecting their attacks with ease, using minimal effort to dodge even while they ganged up on him.
This went on for a few moments, making barely any progress aside from wasting time. Until, a growl was heard from behind them—
—and another Wolverine joined the mix.
"I can you're struggling a bit, bub, let me help you out," he grunted, slashing at the villain.
"Awww! I'd be swooning right now if not for the fact it'd get me killed!" Wade chirped back, dodging a bullet that shot his way.
His Logan growled slightly and landed next to him, before murmuring, "Focus on the fight. Stop getting distracted."
Wade pouted in response but followed dutifully to attack the villain with Logan.
Their group teamwork was actually fairly impressive, in Wade's opinion. Which wasn't surprising, given that two of the members had near-identical fighting styles and both were used to working with him.
The two Wolverines clashed a bit at first, aiming for the same spots and directing annoyed growls at each other. But after Wade finally made them calm down ("Woah woah woah, ladies, there's enough hits to go around! This isn't Fortnite, you aren't going for the Battle Royale. Let's all work together, yeah?") they fell into a better rhythm.
They were holding up fairly well, even managing to make leeway and push the man back. They were on the winning side of the fight (which they better be on, with Deadpool and two fucking Wolverines trying to kill him). "Were" being the key word.
Because, right as they seemed to be tiring out the asshole, he pulled a move nobody expected. He leaped back, suddenly, creating distance, and grabbed a suspicious-looking metal device from the table.
All three of them exchanged glances and seemed to be on the same page: Do Not Let The Fucker Use It, Whatever It Is.
And so they all leaped at once, claws and guns and knives blazing, until the man sidestepped and with a clink had attached the device to Wolverine's neck. To his Logan's neck.
It folded out into a sickeningly familiar shape.
Fuck.
Logan's claws retracted and a panicked look flashed in his eyes despite his angry posture.
It was an ability-restricting collar.
And Wade had a feeling it wouldn't be as easy as punching in the code "7" to get it off, considering the futuristic, sturdy, and significantly more complicated-looking design.
The man picked Logan up by the back of the neck of his suit with an inhuman strength (had he been holding back, before?) and Wade saw fucking red.
Before he could think, he was unloading a full magazine into the man's chest and head. But the bullet wounds just closed up and the shells fell to the ground uselessly.
He saw the fear in Logan's eyes. At being powerless.
A reflection of how Wade felt, strapped to that table. Tortured. (Francis' voice rang in his ears. "What's my name?")
Wade lunged, trying to dig his katanas into the man's side. He dodged, stepped to the side, and blocked as Wade desperately, frantically tried to injure him. Just enough to let Logan go.
"Get your filthy hands off of him, you son of a bitch, or I swear to God I will tear you limb from limb like a 5 year old's shitty Barbie doll!" Wade snarled, a venom in his voice that made Logan's eyes widen from in his hold.
(A venom that made the Logan behind him look astonished, too. It'd always been him as the protector, the stronger one. He always had to carry the burden of worry, of solving the problem. And yet, here was a version of him with someone to do the same for him. Someone who would go to hell and back for him in the same way he had to, countless times.)
(That familiar ache was back.)
"I don't think I will," the man hummed, side-stepping yet another attack. "As a matter of fact, I'm getting quite bored of this back-and-forth."
Suddenly, the man held up a knife (where did that come from?) to Logan's throat. Logan, who didn't have his healing factor right now. Logan, who was just as vulnerable as any other human right now.
(Logan, who was looking at him with terror in his eyes. Logan, who had wanted death for so long, pressing himself against the barrel of his gun and fucking laughing the first time they'd met. Logan, who, through all the blood and sweat and tears and sacritice, had finally found a reason to live again. Logan, who didn't want to die anymore. Who wanted to live with Wade.)
It was like the world stopped turning. It was the same feeling Wade had felt the night Vanessa died, all noises drowned out and all colors and shapes blurring together and ohgodohgodohgod she's dead she's gone it's all my fault I never should've met her to begin with— but this was worse, somehow. It didn't just feel like the rug had been pulled out from underneath his feet, it felt like the entire fucking ground crumbled apart, collapsing in on itself, leaving him tumbling closer and closer to Earth's core until he's burned alive and swallowed whole. It felt like drowning and suffocating and burning alive all at once. It felt like losing his very foundation, the one thing he allowed himself to cling on to, thinking he'd never have to say goodbye. It felt like all his worst fears and nightmares came true in the worst possible way.
It felt like dying.
"Now," the man started, not giving a damn about Wade's internal panic and the incessant ringing in his ears, "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."
Why was Other-Logan just standing there? Why wasn't anyone moving? Why was nothing happening? How could the world keep spinning when it felt like his world was in limbo right now, powerless and dangled between the claws of a monster, threatening to drop him into its maw?
"You can let me go with your buddy right here, or I kill him now and you never see him again. Understood?" the man tightened his grip around Logan's throat, who began hacking slightly. The knife nicked his skin slightly, creating a trail of red down his neck. Logan hissed in pain.
Wade wanted nothing more than to tear his fucking throat out in response.
But he clenched his fists instead, feeling his blunt nails dig into his skin even through the suit.
"Wade, just let me go, you can come get me later, yeah?" Logan wheezed, barely able to speak around the constricting grip.
"But—he could—Logan, no, I can fight him, I can, I won't let you sacrifice yourself again," Wade fumbled over his words, unable to focus on anything but Logan Logan Logan.
"I'm not sacrificin' myself, just," his voice was rough and heavy, "let me go. You can't win, Wade. I'm not going to watch you die trying to save me."
"But—"
"You heard him," the Wolverine behind him suddenly spoke, putting a hand on his shoulder. (Wade wanted to rip it off. It was wrong wrong wrong, so similar and yet too different from his Logan. His Logan, who had deeper callouses. His Logan, whose hands were rougher and gripped him firmly.) "He'll kill him if we fail to fight him now."
Why was everybody else okay with this? Why did everyone else seem so calm when it felt like Wade's world was imploding, his vision was narrowing, and his senses were going haywire?
(Logan could get hurt. Seriously. Not just superficially. He could be tortured like he was. Wade didn't like knowing Logan was in pain, even with his healing factor, but without it? He could be killed. Even if the man kept his promise right now, who's to say it holds up in an hour? A day? A week? Wade couldn't even comprehend living that long without knowing if Logan was dead or alive. Logan could die and he wouldn't know, because he'd be outside of his reach.)
Wade caught Logan's eyes.
Fuck.
He was scared too, Wade could tell, but putting on a brave face for him. Trying to calm Wade down, when Logan was the one getting kidnapped. He was fucking pathetic. (It really was God's Greatest Joke that he couldn't die, huh?)
Wolverine tensed beside him, ready to hold him back if needed. Wade bit his lip until it fucking bled and finally managed to mumble, "Fine."
"What was that?" the man gloated.
"Fine," Wade hissed. "But I'll be back to get him, and I swear to fucking God, if a single hair on his head is out of place, I'll eviscerate you. I'll make sure you wish you didn't have a healing factor, because I'll torture you until you're begging to die. And then finally, I'll snap that shitty collar onto your neck and kill you in the most painful way possible.
The man seemed unphased. But it was a promise. A promise Wade would keep even if his life depended on it. Even if he had to drag himself out of his own grave, regenerate his limbs from scratch, claw his way out of hell, he would make him suffer if he did anything to Logan.
Logan's eyes widened from in the man's grasp. Wade looked at him, a dark expression on his face. Letting him know how serious he was. (That Wade would do anything for him, to keep him safe. To keep him by his side. That if he got hurt, he'd murder every fucking person involved.)
Logan's eyes shone with realization, a vague spark of hope. It made Wade all the more desperate to save him, to live up to those expectations.
"Well, I hate to interrupt the moment, but I really must be going," the man commented.
It took all of Wade's willpower not to lunge at him. Not to attack him as he picked up a suitcase and walked away, yanking Logan alongside him by the back of his neck.
Logan's haunted yet trusting (despite it all, he had faith in Wade, even when he let him get hurt in the first place) eyes were the last thing Wade saw before they dissapeared.
Wade wanted to go after them, to chase them, but he knew better. The other X-men weren't here right now. If all three of them barely managed to hold up against this man, how would the remaining two beat him? And who knew whatever other tricks were up his sleeves.
He was unpredictable. He was dangerous.
Wade knew this, but—
He should've been faster. He should've taken the hit instead of Logan (even if it seemed the man was targeting him to begin with). He should've been better, should've been stronger. Should've prevented Logan from being taken in the first place.
His knees buckled underneath him and he collapsed to the floor. The Other Wolverine startled behind him, dropping to the floor with him and wrapping his arm around Wade for support.
Wade felt the same, desolate, useless feeling wash over him that he had when he'd cradled Vanessa's dead body. He'd failed. Again. He had so much time to learn and do better and yet he still failed. It was all his fault. Everything was his fault.
He should've just brought Logan with him to begin with. Should've swallowed his fears and sucked it up, even if Logan did want to leave him. Logan was a grown man, he could make his own choices. He could realize that his current life, his life with Wade, wasn't worth it if he wanted. He could abandon him and Wade would have no fucking ground to stand on to stop him.
And yet Wade couldn't just fucking swallow his pride and had to behave like a jealous teenager.
(Would it be any different, if they came here together? If they were on the same page from the start, had time to plan and learn together? The man was so fucking strong that even if they had time, Wade was unsure if they'd beat him alone. Maybe they were predestined to fail. All because of Wade's incompetence.)
"Hey," Other-Logan started to speak in a low, worried tone, "We'll get him back. I promise."
He had a concerned and vaguely unsure look on his face, clearly unused to trying to comfort someone. Here's another Logan, comforting Wade when his feelings shouldn't even be a priority to begin with.
"It's my fault," Wade muttered.
"What?"
"It's my fucking fault. Everything is my fault. I should've gotten kidnapped instead. At least if he took me, I could take it."
"Wade—"
"I mean, it's no big deal if I get tortured. I'm used to it. At least I'd fucking deserve it for the stupidity of getting my communication device broken. At least then I'd be the only one hurt, and it's not like I matter anyway."
"Wade, what are you—"
Wade continued to ramble on, frantically, tears collecting in his eyes and threatening to fall down his face, "It should've been me. Logan is a fucking hero, he has a place in the world. He shouldn't be hurt just because of my mistake. I dragged him into this shit, into my universe, and how do I repay him? By letting him get fucking kidnapped and tortured on my behalf!" Wade had to physically force himself to not devolve into full-body sobs at this point, trembling underneath Logan's hand on his shoulde. Rocking back and forth like a lunatic.
"Wade, just listen for one fucking sec—"
"I should've just killed myself. I should've sacrified myself to destroy the Time Ripper, should've been strong enough to grab both the matter anti-matter channels and dissapeared from existence. At least it'd only be me who's gone, and Logan would still be safe. I never should've dragged him into my shit, I should've been long dead before I even met him. I should've had the balls to snap that collar on my neck and explode myself for real—"
—Slap.
Logan had honest to god slapped him. Hard.
Wade snapped out of his rant, holding his cheek as a deep purple bruise formed. He started hollowly back at Logan.
"Shut the fuck up," Other-Logan growled. "Don't speak about yourself like that. You don't deserve to die. It wasn't your fault, you fucking know that. We all were there, so it's as much on us as it was you. None of us could've seen it coming."
"Rich, coming from you, Mr. Blame Himself in the flesh," Wade retorted, scrambling for any kind of purchase in the conversation.
"I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to make me pissed off enough to let it go. But I won't." Logan took a deep breath, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He finally seemed to collect himself and looked at Wade, his gaze piercing and sharp. "Look, you... you're not worthless. Hell, you're the furthest thing from it. When I'm around you, it feels like I'm actually a person for the first time I can remember. It's like I can finally fucking breathe. And if that's how I feel, when I've known you for just a month, I imagine it's even stronger in your Logan."
Wade started to protest, but Logan cut him off. "None of that, bub. You know I'm right. You can't honestly be that fucking blind to not see the impact you have on him. On me. ...Look, when you've been alive as long as I have, it's inevtiable that you feel lonely. Of fucking course it is, when everyone around you dies and you're the only one left standing." Wade stares at him wordlessly, a hint of understanding in his eyes.
"...But you make it better," Logan settles on. "Do you see the way he looks at you? Like if you're gone, nothing matters? That isn't the look of someone who hates you. I don't, and he sure as hell doesn't. So stop putting yourself down when you fucking know he wouldn't want you blaming youself. You wouldn't blame him if you got captured, would you?"
"...No, but that's—"
"—The exact same scenario. But you're too stuck in your head to realize it." Logan groaned, seemingly lost for words to say. "Look, I'm not the best at this. At saying what I'm feeling. You know this. But what I do say, I mean. And I mean it when I say that it isn't your fault and he'd never blame you. I wouldn't. You shouldn't either."
Wade looked at him, at his sincerity, and for some reason he felt more like sobbing than he did before.
"So let's get him back, yeah?" Other-Logan asked, gruff and hesitant. It felt like a peace offering. An olive branch.
"...Yeah," Wade murmured, and let his body weight fall against Logan, who was beside him now. Logan wrapped an arm around him, hesitantly at first, and then more securely when Wade leaned into it.
Wade curled into him, thoughts running a million miles a minute.
(Where was Logan right now? How far had they gotten? What if he was hurt? What if he was writhing in pain, calling out for Wade, and he wasn't ther? What if he was tortured? What if he was dead?)
(...No, Wade wouldn't let himself imagine the worst-case scenario. Of never seeing Logan again. He wouldn't accept that reality. He couldn't. Didn't know to live, anymore, in a world without him. He'd once tore through different universes and escaped the void, all to save his family. He'd do it again in a heartbeat.)
(He'd get Logan back no matter what.)
#deadclaws#deadpool 3#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool movie#logan howlett#poolverine#wade wilson#wade x logan#wade/logan#poolverine angst#kitkat#angst#sorry guys this took a bit longer than i thought#BUT PART 3 IS HERE#i honestly didnt know it would take this long to get the story where i wanted#so#part 4???#maybe they'll actually get a good ending this time guys#let me know what you think of this chapter#it was the angstiest ive done so far#pretty proud of it ngl
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drew @megbanned's silly lil duo
#murder drones#evil!au#murder drones n#murder drones uzi#im actually pretty proud of how uzi turned out ngl#they're the skrunklies!!!#edit: YALL LIKE TY FOR 54 FOLLOWERS WHAT- i did not expect this to blow up
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hiii i have a request 🥹🥹 if possible, could you write a comfort fic with himeko or kafka and reader? reader who has trouble sleeping or has been exhausted from missions, going straight to himeko's room after returning to the astral express and just melting into her arms. or, reader who hasn't seen kafka in a while and just really misses her, needs her to put her mind at ease, so kafka drops by the express unexpectedly and spends the night taking care of reader. can be either sfw or nsfw, I dont mind either 🥹
omg this is so cute! i’ll do both ;)
SLEEPLESS NIGHTS || hsr x reader
cw. nudity
notes. dunno why i felt the need to mention this but this fic operates on established relationship between reader/character, just fyi :)
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HIMEKO
Trailblazing was never going to be easy. You knew this, and you accepted it. To walk the path of Akivili was to lend a helping hand to whosoever needed it. And you do enjoy it—the feeling of making a change in the vast universe, shoulder to shoulder with companions that you would give your life for, and who would do the same for you. You wouldn’t give up your spot on the Astral Express for the world.
But you are only human, at the end of the day.
You’ve been taking back-to-back missions recently, and it’s slowly taking its toll on you. As a more experienced Nameless with many years under your belt, your assistance is slightly more prized over the younger crew—not to say they were incapable. Dan Heng and March alone made a terrifying duo, which was only exacerbated when Stelle joined the mix. But at the end of the day, they’re still a little green and wet behind the ears, so any of the harder jobs tend to fall to you or Welt. And with Welt supervising them on the Luofu, that just left you.
Your footsteps are heavy as you drag yourself back onto the Express. There’s a rip in your jacket from where a Mara-struck soldier tried to slash at you, and several small cuts all over your fingers from the cutting wind of the Disciples. The Luofu had commissioned your blade to quell the number of Mara-struck still roaming around, but for every six you strike down, another dozen seem to take their place.
You sigh as you flop onto one of the many couches on the Express, letting your weapon clatter onto the ground. You’re sore, tired, and aching—all you want to do now is sink into your pillows and sleep, but you have to clean up first. You shut your eyes with another weary noise, deciding to rest up a little before heading to your cabin. Or, shared cabin, rather.
A gentle tap on your shoulder stirs you from your brief rest. You crack your eyes open, and are met with a gentle, golden gaze—it’s Himeko. She’s foregone her usual attire, instead dressed in simple nightwear now, a blanket around her shoulders.
“Hey,” you rasp out. “Were you about to go to bed?��
She shakes her head, smiling softly. “No, I was waiting for you.”
“Ah. Sorry, I must’ve kept you up for a while then.”
“It’s alright,” Himeko says, picking up your weapon off the ground, and placing it inside one of the secure compartments beneath the seats. “I was working on some designs, anyway.”
Then she rises back up, and reaches out to cup your face. Her thumb brushes over your cheek, and you lean into the touch. Then she pulls away, and you nearly whine in protest, before she extends the same hand to you. “Come. Let me care of you tonight.”
You take her hand without hesitation, your fingers slotting perfectly in between hers. You let her lead you to your shared cabin, near the back of the train cart. The door slides open with a small hiss, and the scent of warm, freshly brewed coffee fills your lungs. It’s a comforting, distinctly Himeko scent that you feel some of the tension in your shoulders bleed out.
Her fingers work deftly as they undo the buttons of your clothes, and she frowns when she notices the rip in your jacket.
“I got a little sloppy,” you explain weakly, with a tired grin. Himeko rolls her eyes, but folds it neatly and sets it on the edge of the bed, no doubt to be repaired by the next day.
“As long as you’re unharmed,” she murmurs, working on your shirt now. Your hands rest on her hips as she divests you of the rest of your clothes, until you’re in nothing but your underwear. “The bath is ready. I’ll be there soon.”
You nod, and drag your exhausted limbs to the bath. You strip fully, and then sink into the warm, bubbly water, audibly groaning as the heat from the bath seeps into your aching muscles. The small cuts along your hands sting a little, but you know Himeko must’ve mixed in some antiseptic to ensure no infections take root.
Himeko walks in a little later, and takes a seat on the edge of the tub, smiling as she takes in your relaxed appearance. She brushes some hair out of your eyes, then reaches over for the shampoo and conditioner, tucked away in another small, secure compartment. The Express is littered with them, so things can be stored safely and not make a mess of the train during jumps.
You feel like dissolving when Himeko starts to wash your hair, expert fingers massaging your scalp wonderfully. Her hands--hands that fix, hands that mend--travel from the base of your neck up to the back of your skull, then along your temples, before repeating over again. It's incredible, the way she can put you back together so easily. She chuckles when she notes your reaction.
“Enjoying yourself, my dear?”
You can only manage a wordless grunt in response, feeling like you’re in an entirely different plane of existence right now. Time blurs as Himeko washes out the shampoo and works in the conditioner, before washing that out too and leaving your hair thoroughly clean and smelling like fresh roses—the same scent as hers.
You almost don’t want to leave the warmth of the tub, but Himeko coaxes you out anyway. She offers you a towel and a bathrobe, and leaves you to dry yourself off for a while. You wring out your hair, then dress yourself in a comfy pair of silk nightclothes. When you step out of the washroom, Himeko is waiting for you on the bed, her legs already tucked beneath the covers. On her lap is her laptop as she types away, no doubt finishing up on her many engineering designs.
You practically dive into bed, snuggling under the sheets and pressing close to your lover. She’s warm as always, thanks to her Pathstrider ability being of the Fire type. Himeko hums to herself, wrapping one arm around your shoulders as you bury yourself in her side, uncaring for the dampness of your hair. She reaches over to the bedside table, and with a click, switches of the main room lights, leaving only the soft glow of the lamp next to the bed.
You chance a glance up at her, even as drowsiness nips at your heels. The gentle golden glow of the lamp makes her look divine, enhanced by the fiery red of her hair. There is an affection in her eyes you know is reserved only for you as she leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Rest, now,” she says, her words a caress against your skin. “You deserve it, my love.”
“I love you,” you mumble, eyes slipping shut as sleep finally claims you. It’s easy to oblige the request, safe and sound in her arms like this. These moments make you wish that dawn—or the Express’s approximation of a circadian rhythm—would never come, and you could linger in the embrace of your beloved for eternity. The last thing you hear before you drift off is Himeko’s soothing voice, almost lullaby-like, and you can hear her smile.
“I love you too, dearest one.”
KAFKA
For the nth time that night, you wake up to the sight of your bedroom ceiling.
You sigh and twist in your bed, turning to check the time on the alarm clock on your bedside table. It’s 1am in the morning, and you still can’t sleep.
You don’t really know the root of your recent bouts of insomnia. Maybe it was the workload? But Himeko has given you several days off already. Maybe it was the stress of having to manage the younger Astral Express members, but Welt shoulders that burden most of the time. Could it be Pom Pom then? You shake your head at that—the conductor was usually the one stressing, not being the cause of stress.
Then maybe… maybe it’s because you miss her.
Kafka, your secret lover.
You miss the presence of her next to you in your bed, and the steady, powerful beat of her heart under your ear as you rest your head on her chest. Miss the elegant cadence of her breathing and the feel of her hand in yours.
You sigh again. You know she’d laugh if she ever knew about your silly longing. I mean, you volunteered for this infiltration mission; you knew what you were signing up for. But still, it’s funny—you miss that about her too. Her laugh.
You reach for your phone, resting on the bed. During your last… rendezvous with Kafka she had the foresight—or maybe Elio did, who knows—to give you an encrypted number to contact her with.
Only in case of emergencies, doll, she had crooned, as she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Use it wisely.
Your finger hovers over the number. Does this even qualify as an emergency? It’s just a few sleepless nights. Kafka probably has more important things to do, executing Elio’s endless number of scripts and whatnot. In the end, you shut off your phone and throw your head back on the pillows, ready to resign yourself to another long night—
—when your phone suddenly buzzes with urgency.
You jerk in surprise, brows furrowing as you pick it back up. Who could be calling at this hour? You squint in the darkness as you read the caller ID, and your heart leaps into your throat.
It’s the emergency number.
You fumble to answer, quickly sitting up and pressing the phone to your ear, making sure to cover your mouth and the reciever. The rest of the Express definitely wouldn’t be able to hear you, but you always feel some sort of lingering paranoia, sneaking around like this with Kafka.
“Hello?”
“Hey, doll,” a familiar, smooth voice says, and your heart flutters. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“Kafka,” you breathe out, not bothering to hide the relief in your tone. Kafka chuckles on the other end.
“That’s me,” she hums. “You answered pretty quickly. Were you not sleeping?”
You hesitate for a moment, but decide to come clean. “No. I… haven’t been sleeping well, recently.”
Kafka is silent for a few seconds. “I see,” she says, and something in her voice shifts, imperceptible to the average person. But you aren’t an average person, not to Kafka. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” you reassure her. “Just a little insomnia. Nothing to worry about." The other end goes quiet, so you decide to change the topic. "Why'd you call? Isn't this for emergencies only? Are you in trouble?"
"You worried?" she chuckles, and you can see her smirk in your mind's eye. "I'm alright, doll. And as for emergencies... well, I missed you. Isn't that an emergency?"
It's such a Kafka-esque answer, but it pulls a breathless little laugh from you all the same. "Ugh, you..."
"Me," she affirms on the other end with a snicker. There is small, comfortable silence between you, before she speaks again. "Listen, doll, I've gotta go. But don't worry your pretty little head--you'll sleep perfectly well tonight. I'll make sure of it."
You blink, confused at her words. But before you can question it, Kafka hangs up the call, leaving you both confused and a little disappointed. Usually she'd say goodbye and throw in those three special words, though not this time, apparently. You wonder what she means as you shut your phone off again, and lie back onto your pillows. You close your eyes, and try to do as she says.
You're not sure how much time passes, but it doesn't work, predictably. You groan in frustration, just about ready to get up when a lithe hand slips over your mouth.
You jerk in surprise, one hand flying reflexively to the knife you keep beneath your pillow, the other gripping your assailant's wrist. You swing the knife in an arc, only for it to be caught and restrained by thin, pink, familiar ropes. They glow ever so slightly, illuminating a familiar face, that has your mouth falling open under the hand.
"Good to see your reflexes haven't dulled," Kafka teases, nimbly prying the knife out of your hands and letting it clatter onto the floor. She then removes the hand over your mouth, and releases your wrist from the strings.
"Kafka," you whisper, your hand moving to cup her cheek, your thumb tracing the ridges of her face, "are you real?"
She leans into your touch, that signature smirk tugging on her painted lips. She's really here, solid and tangible beneath your fingers. "You could consider me a dream, if you'd like."
"How did you even get in here?" you ask, not taking your eyes off her for a moment as she shrugs off her coat and begins undoing the buttons of her shirt. Kafka offers you a smug grin at that, pulling a little device from her pocket.
"Custom-made IPC teleportation beacon," she answers with a wink. "Jailbroken courtesy of Silver Wolf, of course."
You make a mental note to buy Silver Wolf the next battlepass in that game of hers. Kafka sets the device on the bedside table, now dressed in only her undergarments. You swallow as you take in the expanse of her milky skin, firm abdomen and muscled thighs, all while Kafka raids the clothing storage beneath your bed for something to sleep in like she's been on the Express this whole while. She eventually settles for one of your old t-shirts, which drapes over her frame in such a sinfully delectable way that you'd pounce on her if you weren't so damn tired.
"Move over," she orders, pulling her hair out of its usual ponytail, and letting it cascade down her shoulders and back. Kafka has always been beautiful--but like this... you would not have been able to distinguish her from Idrila the Beauty themself. You wonder if that makes you her knight. You shuffle to the side of the bed, and Kafka slips under the sheets next to you. Strong arms wrap around you and hold you close, close enough that you can rest your ear against her chest, and hear the soothing lullaby of her heartbeat. Immediately you start to feel drowsy, and Kafka chuckles.
"You really missed me, didn't you, doll?" she muses, carding her fingers through your hair gently. "I'm here now, my dear. Sleep, alright?"
Your eyes flutter shut almost instantly. It's funny, how she doesn't even have to use her Spirit Whisper on you to get you to obey. Maybe love itself is enough of a whisper to your soul, or maybe you've always been weak for her. But oddly enough, you don't find yourself minding all that much if that's the case. You don't mind much of anything when it comes to her. Though you don't ponder for very long as you snuggle closer against her warmth, your arms winding tight around her waist. She'll be gone by morning, you know that. She has to. But for now, this is enough, secure in this haven that is her embrace, and you let yourself drift off into slumber.
(The next morning, nothing remains of her--you may have truly considered her a dream, were it not for the imprint of her form on your bed, and a tiny note on your bedside table, undoubtedly written in her hand.
All it says is i love you.
And for the both of you, that's all it needs to say.)
#sev.writes#hsr#kafka x reader#himeko x reader#im ngl im actually pretty proud of this one#esp the kafka half lol#i will jump for joy if someone sees why#n e way anon this was so cute to write#hope u enjoy !!
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Guys I don't even know how to draw water how did this happen
(Tumblr probably fucks up the quality so click for quality)
#soul's art stuff#ninjago#lego ninjago#seabound#nya ninjago#ninjago nya#nya smith#I am genuinely proud of this ngl#like it's genuinely pretty even if I see like a million flaws <3#I just know I didnit good when the drawing blindness doesn't make me hate it#also ibis paint tfym I did this in 40 minutes???#actually when counting the undos it would probably be like a little over an hour but still#ibis paint x#ibispaintx#artists on tumblr
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Exhaustion
Love and Deepspace Headcanons - You're so tired, all you want to do is sleep and go to see them. They're in the same situation.
A/N: Canonically, in the game we have a motorcycle hence the assumption the MC has their own transportation. Assume they're wearing the proper protective gear and that it's easy to get off XD (Though I know biker gear can be quite hard to actually take off. Just go with it pls lol) Brought to you by me being tired as hell, and thinking it would be nice to be able to go to someone and rest. ^J^
Tags/Warnings: Fluff, exhaustion, loneliness.
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Work had been rather grueling, long, and tedious, all in one, and there was still more to do. Sighing internally, you shot off a text in order to sadly, cancel the plans you had to visit. It looked like you'd have to stay at least an extra 10 hours, due to extremely unforeseen and urgent circumstances for the Hunter's Association.
Your final message felt inadequate to convey the warmth and happiness you felt knowing that he wanted to see you as much as you wanted to see him. Bolstered, the rest of the shitshow was just a bit easier to deal with as you had something to look forward to.
Wind whipping around you, the ride was something you needed. The sense of freedom, the speed, the music and the lights all gave you a sense of solace as you headed towards your destination.
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Xavier
You appreciated the irony as the elevator passed your floor and stopped at his. As you approached his door, you finally let yourself feel the exhaustion weighing down on you. Your body felt heavier, and it took more effort to move. Sleepiness hovered just beyond consciousness, and you fought it off. Looking at your watch, you sigh. 3:07, your estimate had been right on the money.
Still, despite how tired you were, you did want to see Xavier, even if this visit would probably just amount to you sleeping over.
Knocking to make Xavier aware of your arrival, you're just about to enter the door code, when it opens and Xavier stands before you, his arms open for a hug.
Wordlessly, you accept his invitation, hugging him tightly. His embrace is firm, warm and comforting and you can't help but relax into him.
"I thought you'd be asleep." You murmur softly, hugging him just as tightly.
"I woke up when I heard your bike." He nuzzles his face into your neck. "It's the signal for your arrival after all." Reluctantly, he breaks the embrace as you pull away to take off your shoes and put your satchel, helmet and jacket on one of the hooks. He makes his way back to his bed, turning to look at you as you follow, undressing down to your underwear.
Collapsing into the soft blankets, you burrow under the sheets with him. Xavier carefully, gently adjusts your position so you lay against him, your head resting on his arm, your back against his chest. Together, you drift off to sleep.
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Sylus
Unsurprisingly, he met you at the entrance to Onychinus Headquarters
"Sweetie, I would have preferred picking you up." Sylus takes your helmet and satchel from you, handing them off to the twins to deal with. "How rude of them to overwork you like this." Normally, you'd respond in kind, a fun playful exchange that flowed naturally. But frankly, you were too tired to really talk.
He gazed at you, taking everything about you in, and after he did so all he did was wordlessly kneel down and support you as he took off your shoes. "You look exhausted, Kitten. Let me help you." Sylus slips your jacket off your shoulders
Providing support, he guides you towards his room. You're absolutely sure that if he thought you'd allow it, he'd pick you up and carry you, but he didn't. You appreciated it as you much prefer to walk on your own, when you can. "I took the time to fluff your pillow
You may be tired, so much so that its obvious that once you relax you'll fall alseep, but you are very good at ignoring it, soldiering though until your body decides to force sleep.
How lucky it is then, that you can go to Sylus and rest, before it comes to that.
Ultimately, you crawl onto Sylus's bed and collapse, and he's not far behind, climbing in with you despite his wonky sleep schedule.
He faces you, pulling your head into his chest and your body flush against him as you both drift off for some much needed sleep. You feel safe and relaxed with his arms around you.
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Zayne
Unfortunately, this was a more common occurrence than either of you would like. Both of your jobs were quite intense and often required long hours.
Still, you both made a conscious effort to make time for each other, even if it ended up being strange hours sometimes. The times he got home before you were not rare, but infrequent, and this was one of these time.
Taking of your gear and shoes as you entered his home, you hoped that he was at least resting, hopefully asleep. It was something he deserved, and right now all you wanted to do was rest with him.
A warm glow cascaded over the room, making you smile. Zayne had left a light on for you.
Padding softly through the foyer, you quietly open the door to his room, making sure the light from outside doesn't disturb him. Much to your relief, Zayne was sleeping peacefully, his handsome face relaxed. He had an unguarded quality about him that you rarely saw.
A rush of affection suddenly overcame you. Carefully, you went over to him and kissed his forehead. As you withdrew, you felt him grab your hand, his eyes still closed. "Stay here" he murmured, his voice gentle and low, hazy with sleep as his hand falls from yours.
You move over to your side, ensconcing yourself in bed, growing cozy and warm with him next to you.
He gravitates towards you, intertwining his legs with yours and nuzzling his head into your neck, and you fall asleep, your eyes gently closing as you're tangled together comfortably.
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Rafayel
The solitary lamplight from Rafayel's studio illuminates the path as you walk up to his door. Although he had given you a key, you knock gently, just in case Rafayel was absorbed in his art.
A small clatter sounds after you knock, and you can't help but feel amused despite the haze of tiredness dulling your senses.
When he opens the door, a playful, soft smile pulls at his lips. "I don't suppose you have any news of my wayward companion?" He steps aside and helps you with your gear and shoes.
"Hmmm I think I have some news. It seems your companion has made it to their destination." Rafayel cleans up the box of paintbrushes he spilled, making sure your path is clear.
"Well! Now that they've arrived, they can't leave for a while. It's mean of them to leave me alone for so long, and so often." His pout is playful, his eyes focused on you as he intertwines his fingers in yours, holding your hand gently, as if it was some priceless thing, something to be cherished and treated with care.
You squeeze his hand as the two of you make your way to his room, his bed looking like the most luxurious, comfortable place in the world despite it really just being a slightly messy, normal bed.
"As much as your wayward traveler loves to explore, I'm sure they love being here too and would always make an effort to return to you." With that, you climb onto bed, letting go of his hand, your exhaustion amplifying the soreness of your body, making every movement take extra effort. As soon as you're comfortable, you open your arms to Rafayel, who had merely just stood beside his bed as you did so.
You open your arms for him, and he joins you in bed, almost clinging to you under the covers, entangling all his limbs with yours and burying his face into your neck, head resting on your chest, near your shoulder. "I missed you." Together you drift of, feeling safe and sound with each other under the covers.
#love and deepspace#reader insert#x reader#l&ds sylus#l&ds x reader#l&ds reader insert#Anyway I think I'm getting the hang of these characters! Pretty proud of this actually!! ^J^#Especially Rafayel's I think that's the best one in this batch#But all of them are very lovely ngl I love how they turned out#lnds rafayel#lads rafayel#lads sylus#lads xavier#lads zayne
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I hope you never take advice from your friends
x
#I'm really fucking proud of this one ngl#this is the first time i've made a graphic with actual gifs#and I think it turned out pretty damn good tbh#evan buckley#eddie diaz#911 show#911 on abc#911 spoilers#buddie#911 on abc graphic#911 graphic#911 edit#911 show edit#buddie edit#evan buckley edit#eddie diaz edit#i can make things
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drawing from last night I did to test my new pens 😋😋
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I did that one (probably dead) art trend and OUGH HOW DID I DO THAT. WHAT THE FUCK
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#minecraft story mode#mcsm#mcsm nurm#nurm mcsm#minecraft villager#clemont_ine#I KINDA ATE NGL-#My red posca died the minute it touched the page 😭#DUDE I GOT#THE PASTEL PACK#8 PENS IN TESCO#FOR 14 EURO#FOR POSCAS?????#I SNATCHED THEM UP SO FAST#This is actually so pretty I'm proud 😼#Was gonna save this for mcsm tober but I have no clue what prompt to use JFNFNFN#I guess favourite side character#Tho I'm still not 100% if Nurm counts#WELL.#BASED ON HOW THE FANDOM TREATS HIM#LMAOOO#My poor poor old man 😔#Drawn at midnight by someone who's brain shuts off at 9#mcsm fanart#Adding that one cause I love this so much#And if my silly non serious doodles do better than this istg-#JDNDJDKDNGKRNMF
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Medusa and Lilith: a series of letters through time
Dearest Lilith,
I stumbled across
Your story today.
A passing merchant
Fancied himself a hero
In a moment of idiocy.
I have given up on trying to
Warn them.
I am
What they love to hate;
Something tells me
We have this in common
- Medusa.
~~~
Darling Medusa,
Though you have heard of me,
I must confess
Your name is new to my ears.
I must disagree with your
Expressed sentiments.
We are not what they love to hate;
We are as they made us.
They turned us into these things.
If they then choose to hate what
They created,
Well, that is
Their load to bear.
(I hope I have not offended you
By insinuating you are a 'thing,'
My friend)
- Lilith
~~~
Lovely Lilith,
My, what a welcome surprise to
Receive your reply!
Do not fret about
The language use.
I may have once flinched
At being called a 'thing,'
But that time has long since passed.
I do not get the privilege of
Feeling like a human being
Anymore.
I feel the weight of the word
'Monster'
Resting on my shoulders
From the moment I wake up
To the moment I fall asleep.
I am still human in my dreams.
Some days, it feels like
That is all my humanity ever was -
A dream.
When I think back
To my life before THAT day,
I loathe the way in which
I took my existence for granted.
Oh how different the world
Looks when your life is worth nothing;
When your death is prophesied
And celebrated.
I'll be worth more in death
Than in life.
- Medusa
~~~
My friend,
How my heart aches for you.
I can make my own assumptions
And conclusions about your past
And current situation from your
Previous communication,
But I know that I
Do not have the full picture.
So please excuse me,
My friend,
As I do what more people should
In a position like mine
And not say anything at all.
Just know that
I wish the best for you,
And I do not believe you
To be a monster.
Not in your heart,
And that's where it counts.
People choose to see
What they want to see.
It seems,
For both of us,
People choose to see a villain.
Evidently,
In their eyes,
There is nothing more villainous
Than an empowered woman.
- Lilith
~~~
Adored friend,
I thank you for your sentiments.
If I did not know that
Centuries and oceans
Keep us forever apart,
I may have accused you
Of reading my thoughts.
Whilst being a villain
Is not something people aspire to,
I find it more preferable to
'Hero'
With each passing day.
I am going to die,
Lilith.
I am going to be murdered.
A 'hero' who is no more than a boy
Will be the one to slay this beast.
I am to be no more
Than a milestone
In this child's path
To heroism.
I would wonder where the dignity
In this is,
But as a villain
I am permitted none.
I do not wish this
Child's legacy
To be the only reason
I am remembered.
- Medusa
~~~
Medusa, my dear friend,
We are the legacy we leave behind.
If they will not remember us as
Heroes and humans,
Let them remember us as
Monsters and villains.
If we cannot outrun
Our fate,
Let us embrace it.
Let us be
The most monstrous.
The most villainous.
Let visions of us
Plague their dreams
And moisten their palms.
Let our names be whispered
Like a prayer or profanity.
Let us make it impossible
For them to forget that
They made us this way.
Let us give them a
A damned good reason
To remember our names.
- Lilith
© O.M.A
#the recent writco writing prompt CrossEra wouldnt leave my mind#so i wrote this#im actually pretty proud of it ngl#olliewrites#creative writing#writeblr#fiction#poetry#poem#greek mythology#medusa#lilith#historical figures#historical fiction#poems on tumblr#poets on tumblr
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Should probably stop drawing the background last but hey. what can you do
#ngl im pretty proud of this one#drawing adventure time characters in different outfits than their canon looks is very fun#when i started out with this ship it was a mix of hehe fire/plant and hehe two of finns love interests. fun. but now i actually think#theyd get along very well#also its just a fun ship#mispelled draws#misp draws#adventure time#flame princess#flame princess adventure time#phoebe adventure time#huntress wizard#adventure time huntress wizard#forest fire#adventure time fanart#adventure time flame princess
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New year, new brushes to learn. Today we played with watercolours!
The beautiful Liza Sandstorm belongs to @feathered-dino!
And of course my dancing buddy Sploopie, in their majestic Choya form.
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Nancy Wheeler the shoujo manga protagonist you are what with your love triangle and everything about you my pookie <3
#the fake shoujo manga chapter divider in a shoujo magazine is complete!#this took me like three days to finish and needless to say I’m proud of it 😌#ok maybe apart from Steve I’m not too happy with how he came out#everytime I draw his s1 hair apart of me wants to explode cause of how confusing and hard it is to draw#I imagine that this (fake) manga starts off as a regular shoujo romance but slowly escalates into a sci-fi horror#I’d like to thank Betsumas online archive for giving me references of shoujo from the 80s and 90s#ngl this would have flopped without it#I took some inspo from the many different art styles I saw in my betsuma refs and added aspects to my already pretty anime style#I also stylized Jonathan’s hair differently to how I usually do it to go more in line with how I think it would be stylized#in an actual shoujo#same with Nancy too#I also did more softer shading and tried to make it look watercoloury as alot of the shoujo mangaka I like use it for more fancy art#in relation to their work#i don’t think it comes across that way but hey it was worth a try!#I’m either proud of the title of this fake ST manga or ashamed of it idk I can’t decide#anyways I might do a part two to this? idk it was originally my intention#hope y’all enjoy!#stranger things#nancy wheeler#jonathan byers#steve harrington#barbra holland#jancy#I’ll add the jancy tag cause this piece has the pairing in subtext (lmk if i should remove it at all cause this isn’t an obvious jancy thing#)#cw eyestrain#tw eyestrain#<-adding these tags cause I think this could cause some eyestrain
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and while i'm on the subject, Leona is actually NOT lazy or arrogant or selfish at all but some of yall are not ready for that conversation lol
#he is incredibly kind and generous#he doesn't do things for himself#he does them for others#like he's clearly written to be the perfect king and leader#just to make it hurt more you know but like he's all there#people say he's lazy or write him as a selfish violent POS like where r u getting this??????#or they just write him as abusive ngl#but then again that's kinda par for the course with fan fiction#GOD BLESS every writer who actually writes fluff with relationship dynamics that aren't blatantly abusive#!!!!!#i see you lol ;-:#anyway he's NOT lazy he's just clinically depressed#which can be a really sad ugly thing that isn't always pretty but it's real and he's not lazy he's doing all he can and i'm proud of him#and i'd die for him in a heartbeat. as if that wasn't fucking clear LMAO#twisted wonderland#🧸.txt#twst#leona kingscholar#character analysis
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[SSR] Rosienne Minuit - The Rose Festival
after many tears, the main star is here!! 🌟 or, Rosienne's card for my fan event (which is also, technically, his hometown event)
surprisingly, he's not in a dress this time, but i saw the coat on Pinterest and couldn't resist myself. the yellow is, of course, a reference to Belle because one he deserves to be the main character for once and second because i wanted to drive home that he's got some inspiration from her too
[ voicelines under the cut // mention of @cheerleaderman's Astrid ]
Summon Line: Ah, you should be careful around here. Wouldn’t want to get your fingers pricked by the roses, would you? When Summoned: You better not slack off, Prefect. We have to get everything ready on time. Don’t look at me like that. I’m the boss here, I can lay down. Groooovy!!: [locked] Home: How was it like growing up in a castle like this? Well, cold, mostly. Home Idle 1: I’ve been helping my dad run this place ever since I was a little kid. You can probably find lots of embarrassing photos of baby me in period clothes. Home Idle 2: Back in middle school, I never really invited any of my classmates to the festival. It’s kind of nice to do so now, you know? Home Idle 3: Somebody falling for you even despite your monstrous appearance, such a beautiful tale! That doesn’t happen in real life, of course, but it’s fun to indulge from time to time. Home Idle - Login: Yes, yes, I know, it’s weird seeing me in such bright colors. You don’t have to say it. Home Idle - Groovy: [locked] Home Tap 1: That dress looks spectacular on Astrid. Who knew he could look anything other than a sad medieval orphan? Home Tap 2: I invited Silver mostly because I’ve expected him to look real prince-like in here. And he does! His face is great at driving more guests in. Home Tap 3: My dad’s been so excited to meet my friends… and I’ve been stressed somebody will embarrass me before him. Home Tap 4: Despite her name, it is said that the Beautiful Princess valued inner beauty more than the person’s looks. I’m sure a certain someone could learn from her. Okay, okay, that was a joke! You don’t have to go repeating it to him! Home Tap 5: Riddle’s took to teach people historical tableside manners. Usually, only our staff knows so much about this sort of stuff. I’m kind of impressed. Home Tap - Groovy: [locked]
Duo Magic
ROSIENNE: You better not fall behind, pretty boy. VIL: Oh, I'd rather worry if you can keep up.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst oc#twisted wonderland oc#twst fan event#pomefiore oc#💌 art#🥀 rosienne#ngl im quite proud of this one#tho if i have to draw ONE MORE ROSE#i'll explode i SWEAR#anyways!!#i rlly hope i'll be able to make the cards for józia + the canon boys bc ive got their outfits designed already and#im quite proud of the designs too!!#im having so much fun with this is what im trying to say#tried not to push my own oc x canon's because this is an open event and all but i allowed myself to get a little indulgent with#the duo magic lines <3#okay secret tags lore tm but#ive actually been thinking about rosie calling vil pretty boy as an insult back when they still didnt like eachother#and then it turning into a term of endearment over time.........#ugh i feel SO normal guys i swear
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*drags Tsurugi by the handcuffs* So I spun a wheel, and it landed on our favorite boy, the Ultimate Police Officer himself, Tsurugi Kinjoooo.
So, the first thing I wanted to mention was Tsurugi's skin tone. Obviously, when you compare his DRA sprite with his SDRA2 sprite, he is FAR paler than his younger self which can be an...odd choice to make. You can probably handwave it as Kinjo simply looking like that cause he's sickly, but with LINUJ's 2022 winter illustration, it's pretty much canon that he was always suppose to be pale. Honestly, the DRA sprites have their saturation turned all the way up to eleven, and in Tsurugi's case it makes his skin tone look darker than what seems to be intended. I used to turn up the saturation up a lot back in middle school while drawing, too, so I won't harp too much about it. Anyway, since this is Tsurugi from DRA before he, uh, got sick, so to say, I decided to try and strike a balance with his skin tone: pale but clearly very healthy (for now). Aside from that, Tsurugi's design was pretty much fine? When you're told that he's the Ultimate Police Officer, you can understand where LINUJ was going with his design, a simple police uniform but it doesn't exactly scream...authority, you know? So I decided to the push the Police Officer theme a bit more by giving him a vest, a radio, and even some gloves! It's also a nice callback to his friend, Kouhei Sasaki, who also wore gloves before he...well, died. Moving on from his Lore(TM), I rolled up his sleeves, rolled up his pants but still have it so long that it covers his ankles, and changed his loafers to sneakers. I don't know, there's something appealing about a serious, no-nonsense Tsurugi taking his job very seriously...while still wearing jeans and sneakers on the job. It kinda shows that he's still a teenager despite being a police officer even though he's so damn young. Kinda fucked up when you stop and think about that. I also gave him a few scars, not many, but mostly cause they're probably hidden underneath his clothes. Tsurugi has mentioned being in some pretty hostile situations (especially the one that involved Kouhei's death) and I doubt he always got out unscathed, so I decided to put one on each arm: a thin scar from a knife, and a star-shaped scar from a bullet. From there, I toned down the saturation of his color palette, and added more black and gold. Fun fact: the color gold can symbolize reputation, which is hilarious considering how much Tsurugi's reputation sinks during DRA, and how controversial he gets in-universe in SDRA2.
Anyways, Tsurugi is going to start a lot of shit, time to run.
#DRA#Tsurugi Kinjo#Danganronpa Another#SDRA2#Super Danganronpa Another 2#DRA Spoilers#SDRA2 Spoilers#sprite edit#Star's Art#ngl i'm proud of how he looks#he actually gives police officer vibes#...which is probably pretty rancid lmao
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I believe today was a good day <:]
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I drove a car! (I learned the basic stuff, and we practiced in a parking lot.) I learned how to park, how to steer it, and the basic things to know when using a car >:] I’m so proud of myself!
#Random#Hehe ngl I was thinking of doodling this and I actually got a bit emotional 😅<x]#I think parking’s pretty easy! also funny story while my dad was trying to get me to park I panicked a little but after my dad checked to#see how I did I actually did a legit perfect park. my dad was proud of me ^^😂#Now he’s gonna practice with me every weekend. I’m actually really happy about it. Im learning to drive a car!! 😆😆💥💥
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@vee-week
For day 2, I chose the prompt Mama. I first did it in pencil, then opened Adobe Fresco and outlined it. Enjoy! :)
#veek 2024#vee week 2024#the owl house#toh#vee toh#vee noceda#camila noceda#camila toh#actually pretty proud of this peice of art ngl
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