#sorry this took a bit longer

[lulu-draws-stuff]

How does that sound?

[thedracomalfoy]

Draco entered the Charms class shortly after, turning so his back was facing the class and his head was still out of the door. His laugh was quiet - ensuring he didn't disrupt the class, lest he face Snape's wrath - as he gave a quick kiss to Pansy before he closed the door and moved to take his seat on the other side of the room with the rest of the Slytherins, next to Blaise Zabini. While they normally didn't mix years, they had a few professors quit recently, which had left them with a few doubled classes this year. He ignored Snape's piercing gaze, knowing that he'd be reprimanded later for the interruption, despite its overall subtlety. Malfoy was already prepared within a minute or two, however, with his Charms book out, some fresh parchment, an inkwell and a quill; he had always prided himself on his good grades, his intellect evidence in his endeavors. It didn't take long before his quill was scratching softly across the paper, silently taking notes on the lecture.

When he glanced up toward the front of the class, listening as Professor Snape continued the lesson, Draco did a double take across the room. Sitting there amongst the other Hufflepuffs was that same girl from before, and his jaw tightened slightly as he realized she was in this class. Malfoy's gray eyes glinted with a hint of caution and indignation, wondering just how bad his luck might be since he kept running into her wherever he went. He shook his head imperceptibly, returning his focus to his work with a faint sneer. "At least she isn't Potter," he thought, choosing to ignore her for the time being.

He couldn't help but think back to earlier, when Susan Bones and Hermione Granger had interjected themselves into the situation. Draco found it distasteful, vexing, and complicated; it wasn't as thought he went around and targeted Mudbloods specifically, although he couldn't deny his disapproval of them. Nor was it his fault when they constantly got on his nerves and in his way, like Granger - and, of course, Bones had it coming when she insulted him and his family. Malfoy rolled his eyes to himself at the thought, still fixed on their interaction in the Great Hall. "She'll regret it when she finds the Canary Custards," he mused silently, his sneer shifting into a smirk as he finished up the line he'd been writing, caught up in his thoughts as Snape droned on.

The look on Susan's face was that of absolutely shock and heartbreak. She didn't say anything but ran out of the room.

"Draco, you really need to stop calling people that!" Another female said to the boy, almost punching him in the face and

before darting off in the direction Susan ran, so I followed them both.

"What happened? What did Draco call you?" I ask, running my hand up and down Susan's arm in comfort.

"Mudblood. It means dirty blood; those who aren't pure bloods." The other female said.

"I'm sorry, what is your name?" I ask her.

"Oh I'm Hermione Granger, I'm a second year Griffyndor. Susan and I became friends last year; Draco called me a Mudblood too."

"Why does he have to be so mean?" Susan asks, bringing the attention back to her.

"He's just insecure. He doesn't know who he is and so he's taking it out on everyone else," Hermione says.

"I hate Draco. I'm so sorry Susan." I say, already finding distaste in the Slytherin.

"Monique, you should go, its time for your first Charms class but be careful, Professor Snape is very strict and the head of Slytherin House," Hermione says, giving me a concerning look.

"Oh great, more Slytherins," I say rolling my eyes.

"Yeah and he doesn't like anyone to be late to his class," Susan added.

"Geez, okay, I'll head over there now. Thanks!" I grab my books, notebook and a quill and dart off to the Charms classroom. I luckily made it just before Professor Snape.

Just looking at the professor gave off a scary feeling. He was tall, had dark eyes and hair that matched, pale skin and a look of annoyance on his face. He definitely was over the Slytherins.

"There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in my class." Even his voice was low and monotone; why was a he a professor? All I knew was it was going to be a long year with Snape as my professor. @thedracomalfoy

[oobbbear]

Song bird and the Rat Part 2

<- Part 1 Part 3 ->

<- Part 1 Part 3 ->

All chapters/Story Master Post

[twilightkitkat]

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.)

[theecholegend]

Biting Legend like that corrupted fairy from LU except I'm doing it for fun

Careful, just because you are small doesn't mean Legend won't respond to violence with violence, because he will.

(though he lifted the hat back up almost immediately)

[spiderziege]

the pig parade!

[eggwishing]

messing around with lineart

[royalarchivist]

SmallFryz: NONONO– Fit, Fit, Fit– Listen, listen– We can talk this out, we can talk this out! 😨

Fit: See, that's the fighting spirit! There we go! Mano a mano!

SmallFryz: Fit– Fit, we're like brothers, man! How could you do this to me?

"There's no lore on JoeSMP" Maybe not, but there sure is drama! 🍿

[radio-zephyr]

mcmapicc for our diva

who is this DIVA ❤️

(Everyone go vote for Prince Zam in @mcyt-gender-showdown ‘s poll here now!!/nf)

[koolades-world]

Hiiiii hope you’re day is going well so far! I was wondering if you could write the brothers reaction to the other brothers walking in on them having a heated make out session with mc

hi! of course :)

hope you didn't mind i took a bit of a sillier take on this haha. i could only picture the silliest of things i'm afraid

enjoy <3

Other brothers walk in on Mc and another brother making out

Lucifer

he'll be almost like a father

happy that you're happy

but at the same time, just feels so odd to him

whatever choice you make, he's going to support you <3

Mammon

will scream and protest as loudly as possible

of course he feels it should be him in his brothers place

will sulk and or pout for the next few days

if he has the courage, he'll ask if the next kiss you give will be for him

Levi

like mammon, he will scream, but run away instead

will apologize more times than you can count

for the next week, he will avoid eye contact with the both of you

secretly jealous and wishes it was him

Satan

he'll pretend it didn't even happen

he interrupted your moment and he didn't mean to

if it was lucifer, though

he'll be in a pissy mood for the rest of the day lol

Asmo

will whine and ask why he wasn't invited

it might take some convincing to get him to leave the room

however, he respects the relationship you have with his brother

he's happy for you <3

Beel

he wasn't prepared for what he just saw

but he handles it the best!

he apologizes and then leaves

later, he'll apologize again and congratulate you <3

Belphie

will turn around as soon as he entered the room

he saw nothing

don't bring it up around him

unless you want him to make a stink about it like mammon

[vaard]

Same anon as a while back about the alternate race Vaard art. I hadn't realised their was also a Lightforged one too until I stumbled on the pic today. So cool how different he felt even though he was still a Draenei. Your art is always brilliant.

Thanks, anon! Vaard being mistaken as Lightforged comes up a lot, it's the most asked question and ask I've gotten since Legion.

It definitely makes him look so different. It's such a different vibe from normal Vaard. The one Lightforged Vaard I drew for a prompt was 8 years ago, hard to believe, so I figured it's time for an updated one!

[ask-starlight-anya]

[leslieseveride]

they really weren't kidding about the rom-com vibes in this season.

[bicarbonate-blues]

Heatless Flame

Stardew Valley- Sebastian x Female!Farmer

Summary: Sebastian coming to the farm asking if you have any herbs to help with the rock crab wound he got in the caves and you help patch him up. He's silly goofy in love with the you. Fluff

notes: I'll typically try to do a gender neutral farmer but I'll specify when that isn't the case like with this fic. I use Y/N in this fic.

Tag: @victorylr

The ticking of the clock was far too loud as Sebastian lay in bed, eyes wide and locked onto the ceiling. His hands were folded on his chest but his fingers twitched with frustration and impatience. His skin was crawling as he tried his best to lay still and fall into sleep but it wouldn't take him and he knew that he'd have to get up and do something before his unsettled bones could rest.

That day had been nothing short of miserable. Work had been tedious, boring, and a general waste of time if it weren't for the paycheck. He'd gone upstairs to grab some lunch and instead had retreated right back down the stairs when he'd heard Demetrius and his mom start to bicker at one another. That had been a can of worms he hadn't felt like opening over a reheated slice of pizza. Everyone knew he'd pick his mom's side for whatever asinine thing they were at odds with and Demetrius would give him the stink eye like he shouldn't have been born. A regular Tuesday, really.

Since then he had remained in his room. Normally he wouldn't regret the reclusive day he had made for himself but as the clock ticked further into the night he was dying to do something fun. If it weren't for the brakes on his bike needing maintenance, he'd already be halfway to Zuzu City. Finally, his eyes locked onto a frozen tear that the farmer had gifted him last week for his birthday.

The frozen tear sparked an idea in his mind and off he went, tugging a beanie over his head and tugging on his favorite boots before he left his bedroom. He did his best to be quiet while he searched the dark garage for a leftover pick axe and a flashlight, courtesy of his mother. Snow crunching underfoot, he made his way to the haphazard wooden plank that pretended to be a bridge to the right of his home and he crossed it. It wobbled slightly, his stomach doing flips, and he wondered how it hadn't broken beneath the weight of the horse you rode across it every couple days.

Flashlight at the ready he walked to the back of the mine to where the elevator was poorly lit, like a beacon saving him from his boredom.

Pressing the button going down, Sebastian took a steadying breath. Immediately the metal doors slid open for him, with a slight groan and a loud creak. The impatience flooding his veins was gone now, replaced with excitement. Before the doors slid shut he wondered if he could find something pretty to gift you in return for your gift to him.

_

About five levels down and a backpack full of odd stones he found pleasant to the eye, Sebastian was wondering how in the hell you spent the entire week running back and forth to the mine. Not that he ever could truly complain about you stopping to say hello while he was out for his nightly smoke. You would wrinkle your nose if the wind blew towards you but never in disgust or judgment at his habit, however negative he knew it to be.

It was a secret he kept locked inside his heart but those were his favorite nights. Standing beside you at the lake while you recounted your day's events to him. The glow ring you had lit up the space around your hands as you waved them in the air happily. You were so full of life that it ran over your edges, seeping into him and filling him with a new vigor to do something. Those dreams of escaping to Zuzu City permanently once he had the means seemed so much smaller after meeting you. Without knowing it, you had given him so much, and he'd be damned if he didn't try and repay the effort.

Resettling his bag on his shoulders he climbed down the next ladder he had found. It had been nestled at the end of a long cave, right beside a line of tracks that led to a mine cart full of coal. He had pocketed some, maybe you could use it or Clint could buy it off him.

Nearly immediately after dropping into the cave he saw a curious looking stone that reflected back the beam from his flashlight in oranges and yellows. The cave seemed to glitter, like a heatless flame and he knew immediately that he needed to get this for you. The grin he was imagining you'd have was so brilliant he nearly stopped breathing. I might actually die if she smiles at me for real... He thought in passing as he took to working the stone. What was it?

Sebastian searched his head for thoughts that didn't scream you, you, you. It was hard when you had come to consume him. With a smile he pocketed the stone, the topaz. That's what it is, Topaz. The way the topaz had lit the room up reminded Sebastian of the way your glow ring sparkled off of your eyes when you shared your late night talks.

You were his heatless flame. Never there to hurt him or leave him burned or scarred, but always there to warm him and fill him with a new life he hadn't had since it was just him and his mom, playing pool every Friday even if he hadn't been quite as tall as the table.

In his reverie, Sebastian had lost some of the caution he had practiced the first few levels of the mines. He had cut through slimes and avoided any bug he came across but now he was tripping over a larger than average rock and that rock was beginning to crawl at him.

"Shit!" Sebastian muttered, scrambling back on his hands with his eyes locked onto what he knew now to be a rock crab. They were quicker than he thought and it got it's pincer around his calf before he could mutter another curse. He jerked away from it in panic but all that accomplished was the rock crab strengthening it's grip. The hard edges pulled at his skin and he winced before grabbing the damn thing and ripping it away from his calf.

His heart pounded forcefully in his chest and his head swam momentarily before the rushing in his ears calmed down. The terrible rip of his skin had filled him with adrenaline and he used it to pat his pockets and reassure himself your topaz was tucked safely away before bolting to the ladder and then to the elevator. Sebastian had gotten what he had come for and maybe a little more than he had bargained for.

_

Once Sebastian was safely out of the mines he sat heavily down onto the snow just outside the entrance. With heaving lungs, he let the chill of the snow seep into his scraped hands and dampen the legs of his pants. The cold was grounding, calming. His calf gave a painful twinge and he snuck a glance at the offending wound. Blood dyed the snow beneath him scarlet but the flow was not fast nor terribly bothersome. There was an ache that wouldn't go away and he knew he should get it tended to but Harvey was long asleep and he wasn't about to face his mother's wrath or invasive questions.

Robin's anger wouldn't be half as frightful if he told the truth but then she'd look at him with searching eyes and say, "The farmer, huh?, like it wasn't obvious that he had fallen for her this last flower dance when she had danced with Alex of all the people in town. She had danced with the man who shared the least in common with him. Did that mean something?

His heart gave a sharp tug almost as painful as the rock crab wound. Sebastian knew damn well Alex had invited you to dance just to catch Haley's eye, but you had said yes. You were more than arm candy and he had spent the next week in the worst mood wondering why. It wasn't until he saw you again that that feeling had eased and then he'd been faced with the knowledge of having fallen in love.

You had just shrugged when he'd asked how the dance had been with Alex. A sly smile played at your lips when you'd then asked, "How was dancing with Abigail?", like you knew something he didn't. Like you knew Abby was a childhood friend he tried to put distance from as often as possible and had since become a placeholder for inconveniences such as the annual dance. Like you knew he was wishing for her to be you.

Shuffling around on the snow when his hands began to sting with the cold, he realized that he needed to get up and care for his wound. He could walk on it well enough so he hobbled even more cautiously this time over the wooden bridge and back into his garage. Eyes peeled and flashlight at the ready he searched for where his mom kept her first aid kit for when she worked. Spotting it on Demetrius' workbench, he opened up only to be filled with disappointment. Sebastian's wonderful, loving, intelligent mother had not restocked the first aid kit in Yoba only knows how long.

Where would he even-?

Sebastian's thought was cut off with your name, as much of his thoughts were. You were always around town with bandaged fingers and poultices to offer to Evelyn for sore hips or to Vincent for scraped knees. You would have something to help.

He supposed it was wishful thinking that you would answer the door, and the walk to the farm wouldn't be delightful this time of night let alone with a bum leg but Sebastian pictured your smile once more and that heatless flame you gave off warmed him just enough to spur him to action.

_

Sebastian's head swam uncomfortably as he took the route to your farm but he used what adrenaline he had left in him to carry him all the way to your porch. Thankfully, torches lit the way and he didn't stumble or otherwise agitate his calf. Knocking on the door one, two, three times he let his fist fall before settling into the rocking chair you had set up for when George came to see you.

You had confided in him once that George enjoyed watching you work and was comfortable with letting you help him into the rocking chair. It reminded him of his childhood and Sebastian thought it was so sweet he could fall apart. He chuckled for a moment, even if Alex wasn't interested, he was sure that George hoped you would take a liking to his grandson just so he could claim you as family.

"Y/N!" He called, not too loud but none too gently either. He'd be thrilled to get something to fix the damn ache in his leg and close up the wound but if you were sleeping there was a part of him that wanted you to keep on dreaming. Your welfare mattered greatly to him, nearly over his own. He let his eyes close for a moment. Maybe it'd be alright if he just rested here for a second and then he could be on his way. He'd see Harvey tomorrow.

"Sebastian! What happened?" You gasped, jolting Sebastian back to reality. You held three jars of mayonnaise in your hands and at the sight of him you dropped all of them.

His throat was suddenly dry at the sight of you.

"Y/N, I-"

"Inside, right now," Your scolded but your voice was still so warm and even as your eyebrows knit together in confusion he could see the concern in those gorgeous eyes while they traced down his figure to the tattered jeans and blood on his leg.

Sebastian pushed himself up from the rocker and nearly giggled when your hand pressed firmly against his back. If he thought hard enough he could imagine your hard-earned callouses against his spine and he suppressed a shiver. Maybe he had bled a bit more than he'd thought.

You pulled a chair out from a table, your farmhouse being much larger than when he had last visited. Rather than the single room your first year, you now boasted a kitchen, three upper level rooms, a cellar and basement. You put his mom to good work and good work she had achieved.

And here he was, getting blood on the hardwood.

"Sit and speak," You demanded and Sebastian fixed his eyes onto yours. You were already shuffling around in one of your cabinets, retrieving an armful of supplies. He knew you'd have just what he needed.

"Got bored. Went to the mines and didn't see a rock crab."

Sebastian nearly rolled his eyes. He didn't mean to sound so....apathetic. He had spent so long playing it cool that he didn't know how to take himself out of it even when internally he was aching to shower you with gifts, affirmations, and if he was lucky enough, affection.

The pinched look of your face didn't exactly disappear but it eased some as you knelt before him, eyes wide and perfect as they took him in. He always felt exposed around you and at first it had made him uncomfortable. He had tried pushing you away because of it, but now he relished the feeling of being seen.

"My, my, Seb," You scolded against, this time warmly and without the nervous energy you'd had before when you hadn't known what was wrong with him. His heart leapt jerkily at the words you spoke. Yes, yours, all yours actually just ask me-

"It was dark," He mumbled, cheeks bright pink from the cold and something more.

"Typically in an unlit mine, things are dark," You agreed playfully, hands carefully but steadily rolling up the torn leg of his jeans. He really had liked him but he couldn't find it in him right now to mind the loss with your fingers prodding gently at his skin.

"Oh shut it," Sebastian laughed but the last thing he wanted was for you to stop speaking. Regrettably, you grew silent for a moment but he knew it was in concentration as you took a wet rag and wiped the blood and dirt away from the edges of his wound. So careful not to hurt him. Always so careful.

"Does it hurt?" You whispered, tilting your chin up at him. Sebastian drank up your appearance, the light from the fireplace casting gentle shadows against the side of your face. You were kneeling before him, hands carefully prodding at his leg and lips stuck out in a pout. He wanted run his fingers through your hair and pull you to him.

"Nothing hurts right now," He said a bit too honestly, not having time to question the words before they were out. You looked alarmed for a second, hand coming to press against his forehead.

"Don't joke so much, you sound like you're dying and meeting Yoba,"

"Oh yeah, because a scrape from a rock crab would-"

"Stop being sassy Seb, let me clean you up."

Sebastian couldn't help the dumbfounded grin that surfaced. There was something about the way you commanded the room, commanded him, that left him weak in the knees with no defenses.

You hummed softly, even when you applied alcohol to sanitize the wound and he hissed, jerking roughly away from you. You had gripped his thigh to keep him from moving too much and he stilled the second you squeezed. He stopped moving, let alone breathing, after that. Soon you were securing his calf with a bandage and looking at him with a satisfied but curious smile.

"You know, you're lucky I forgot to get the mayo from the coop earlier or I would've been in bed and you would've bled out on my porch,"

"I thought you might be awake," Sebastian answered honestly.

"Your mom could've helped,"

"Her first aid kit was empty,"

"Harvey-"

"Sleeping, and I wanted to give you something anyways,"

That look like you knew something he didn't played at your features again and his stomach did a somersault. To get away from the dizzy feeling you were giving him, he stood up and walked almost normally to his bag that had been left by the door.

"You didn't have to get me anything,"

You said it airily, with no real conviction. He knew you liked presents just like everyone else in town except you didn't receive them nearly half as often as you gave them out. For god's sake Pierre gave you seven potato seeds at the feast of the winter star last year. Sebastian was praying Lewis would let him be your secret gifter this year.

He pulled out the Topaz and extended it, eyes darting to the ceiling but then dropping back down to you. No matter how vulnerable he felt right now, in your home in the middle of the night, he wanted to see you light up at the sight of your present.

It was only when you held the topaz in your hands and looked at it oddly he thought you must have gathered plenty for yourself and he felt momentary regret. What could he give you that you didn't already have?

Taking two steps closer, you raised your chin and he noticed with shock that your eyes had grown glossy with tears.

"How did you know I love topaz?"

Sebastian couldn't help but let out an abrupt chuckle. "I honestly didn't, but it reminded me of your glow ring when you leave the mines and we talk and so I couldn't help but-"

You had put an end to his rambling by throwing your arms around his waist, topaz still held protectively in one of your hands as you tightened your arms around him and snuggled your head against his chest.

The air had definitely left him, never to return, and he was in fact going to die on your floor.

"Y/N..." Sebastian had nothing to say but he felt compelled to speak your name. The way it sounded off of his lips felt like finding a missing puzzle piece.

"Sebastian," You whispered in response, not releasing him from the hug.

"Y/N," Sebastian teasing said back. You huffed in amusement and began to pull away, thinking the moment was over but Sebastian kept you in his arms and you stopped trying to move away when he didn't let go. You stilled even further when he brushed a barely-there kiss to the crown of your head as if possessed by the need to feel your hair against his lips.

"Thank you for helping me, I'm sorry it's late,"

"Thank you for giving me a gift, I'm sorry it's late,"

He rolled his eyes at your parroted words but held you closer. He couldn't feel the cool wetness from his snowy pants or the ache in his calf nor the sting in his palms anymore. His heatless flame with her healing touch had removed all of his ailments.

Sometime later, after you had got him a towel and a warm cup of coffee to sip at while you talked on the couch, you let your head fall onto his shoulder and rest there. Even longer after that, the sun had come up and you had begun your work for the day with the promise to take a nap, Sebastian was on his way home with a skip in his step and warmth in his chest (and two new jars of mayonnaise in his pack).

Maybe you did know something he didn't know but maybe he was starting to see that his feelings for you weren't so different from how you felt about him.

[cent-scratchnsniff]

Do you think Yesod has ever taken refuge on Netzach's floor.. he hates the ticking of his own floor .. and he's a homosexual.. maybe Chesed visits too .... holy trinity of bad coping mechanisms or something ..

thats funny that he does actually... perhaps

[joyfuladorable]

Dragon of the Sun by @forestwhisper3

(Ch.5&6>)

You know, it was kind of weird...

Mikey sat on the living room couch, the sci-fi movie he was watching fading into the background after a really campy fight scene between two psychics reminded him of something.

The first time he'd had a freaky dream that ended up sort of true, he'd chalked it up to some weird crystal mumbo-jumbo messing with him. He figured it was a one-and-done sort of thing, especially since he hadn't had another since leaving the underground city.

But now it had happened again, and this time there were no crystals to blame.

GAHHHH!!!! THIS FIC!!! MYSTIC MIKEY BUT IT'S 03 MIKEY!!!!! This fic has my whole damn heart, holy shit! Author does a fantastic job diverging from canon and giving us all the family feels and character depth that the show didn't. My heart? Palpating, pumping, melting onto the damn floor!! Go read it!!!