#they'd both go to hell to save each other

[wemalyri]

ೀFALLEN FOR YOU જ⁀➴

pairing: devil!heeseung × angel!fem!reader

༘⋆ genre: smut (MDNI), angst, romance ೀ w/c: ~4k

synopsis: When the highest of Heaven and Hell find out about your secret connection, forbidden between angels and devils, you know there is no way out. Your fate is already sealed. Both of you know — when the sun goes up, you two will be burnt and erased from this world for the sin you have committed. However, instead of spending your last moments in agony of suffering, Heeseung and you choose the agony of your still existing bodies. Because this is your last night together. Ever.

warnings: they turned into human forms to fuck, crying + fucking, soft soft soft, soft!dom!heeseung, a glimpse of mean heeseung, LARGE use of petnames (angel, baby, pretty girl, my love), reader is really sensitive, praise (A LOT) and praise kink, we may assume hee has a corruption kink..., fingering, unprotected sex (they're not humans they can, you don't), a really sad ending

a/n: thanks for waiting!! that was supposed to be shorter but i got carried away....kinda inspired by the cartoon 'Angel's friends' (as a kid I was insane)

English is not my native languages, sorry for any mistakes!

You two knew that falling for each other, spending nights together in the messy bed, filling the room with filthy sounds was a sin. You two knew it would have its consequences. You two knew one day they'd find out.

It was wrong from the start. From the way Heeseung's eyes lingered on you for too long — too long for someone who was on the other side, who was your enemy, who was supposed to make you turn away in disgust and frustration. From the way you never looked away when your eyes met his. From the way you were craving for his lips to touch yours one more time now.

The highest angels and devils clearly let you know — they were aware of everything. Aware of the slight touches you two shared in the beginning, of your wet dreams about each other, of the way you gave in to the temptation and committed a sin. Knowingly.

They also clearly let you know one more thing — they are merciless, and they do not give second chances. Once the line was crossed, your fate was already sealed. And you two were perfectly aware of it.

You two will be burnt out.

Why not send you in Hell, you may ask. Because even Hell doesn't forgive such sins. Even for devils it's a death sentence. And Heeseung was ready to go for it from the start. To burn himself just to feel your lips against his, your body under him, your soft skin pressed to his. You were his angel. The angel who seduced him and made him fall even harder than other devils ever had. Made him fall for you.

His breath was hot against the sweaty skin of your neck. You could see the lights on the ceiling reflected from the window dance to the devilish, sinful melody only they could hear. The door to the room was locked.  Like it could save you two from your destiny.

Heeseung's hands were traveling down your body in a fever full of gentleness, trying to remember every single part. His lips were desperately rushing from the skin of your neck and collarbone back to your mouth, not able to choose what to focus on — he needed it all.

You suspended a moan, biting your lip and throwing your head back, when Heeseung's teeth bit on the sensitive spot of your neck. His hand caressed your thigh with affection.

"Always so sensitive for me, angel. No matter how much I touch you... Always so responsive," his hot breath burnt your ear in a whisper. "But don't hold back. Let me hear you."

You shakily sighed, looking at Heeseung's face, which was almost invisible in the darkness of the room.

"I can't," you took another breath, chest rising up and down, "they will hear us."

Heeseung's eyes softened. Or maybe it was hurt and realization of the situation in them. Guess, you forgot.

"Angel," he spoke in the softest tone — the one that none of the demons had ever been allowed to use, the one that not even all of the angels had in them, "they already know."

Your eyes became glassy. Right.

When the sun goes up, you will disappear.

He will disappear.

Everything will disappear.

"I'm sorry," you whispered like it was your fault, like you could fix something. Tears ran down your face, leaving only wet lonely paths.

Heeseung's eyes were glassy too. For the first time in his whole existence. They were full of hurt, pain, and something forbidden. Maybe...love?

His fingers gently brushed against your face, pulling away the strands of your hair. He neared his lips to your skin, kissing away the paths on the sides of your face left after your tears.

You felt how something wet dripped onto your cheek. Your eyes looked up at Heeseung's face. He was crying.

Heeseung was broken. His face distorted in the way you'd never seen before. He bit his lower lip, trying to hold back the tears in his eyes from spilling out more.

Your hand tapped the back of his head, encouraging him to bury his face in your neck. When he did so, you heard a broken cry that made your heart clench, your own tears running down your cheeks again.

After minutes of sniffles and sobs, you two had calmed down. It wasn't the way you wanted to spend your last moments of existence.

Your fingers were caressing his hair in a slow motion, his face pressed to your neck, the tip of his nose starting to trace lines against your skin that made you smile.

"I don't regret it," you whispered in the silence of the room. "I never did. And if I could go back in time, I would do everything the same way."

Heeseung lifted his face from your neck, a small smile playing on his lips. "Me too."

Then his lips pressed to yours. Again.

You savored the moment. The way your lips were soft and breaths hot against each other, the way Heeseung's hands traveled under your shirt, causing shivers to run down your spine.

You softly moaned, arching your back when his fingers traced a line down your spine before pressing his hand to your back just right.

"Like that, angel. Sing for me," Heeseung groaned, bending your thigh to have more access to your core, pressing his hardness to your clothed pussy. Your hips grinded against his in response. "Shh, don't rush. You'll get everything you want, baby."

Heeseung's hands lifted up your shirt, helping to take it off. Then he did the same with your pants.

"I want to see all of you," he whispered under his breath like it wasn't even meant for you — more like he was talking to himself. "I want to remember you like this — naked, sweaty, wet, underneath me. Carve it in my memory. Forever."

His mouth moved to yours with new urgency, tongue sliding inside, devouring you like he was hungry. His knee pressed to your clothed core, making you gasp, panties already wet with your arousal.

"Hee," you softly whined when Heeseung started leaving marks all over your neck, moving lower down your skin.

He was desperate. Shameless. Not the kind to be regretful about his past or present actions. His movements were speaking volumes. Even if there was a second chance, he wouldn't be able to hold back, to keep his distance from you. Even if you could turn back the time, he would commit a sin every now and then. Would fall for you again and again.

"My pretty angel," Heeseung groaned in your collarbone before pulling away to look at the work he'd done. Your skin was full of marks. His marks. "So sinful. Fallen for me."

Your chest was heaving, eyes half-lidded. You placed a hand on his arm, moving it upper to his shoulder, to the back of his head. You craved his touch, wanted to feel his presence physically, wanted to not let go of him.

"I need you," you said in a quiet voice on the edge of crying, your eyes locking on his. "I need you so much..."

His gaze softened, lips moving to leave a peck on your jaw.

"I know, angel," Heeseung whispered against your skin, your heart melting at the petname and how gently it sounded on his tongue. His lips started leaving soft kisses down your cheek and jawline, moving to your ear and neck. "I need you too. So, so much."

Heeseung nibbled on your neck, licking the pain away after. His hand moved from your thigh to your hip, fingers brushing under the hem of your panties, making you shiver.

"My angel..." he softly whispered again, his thumb brushing above your clit, not giving you what you want yet. "So sweet... just for me…” his voice was desperate, words mumbled and rushed like in a fever. “My baby…My pretty girl…My love…"

You whined at his words and gentleness in them, at the same time feeling how his finger finally brushed against your folds. Your senses were heightened, you were aroused till the point when it hurt. Maybe it was because of the way Heeseung was torturing you with his touch, maybe because of the thought that was playing in the back of your head all of this time, even at such moment — that was your last time together.

Heeseung felt how your thighs tried to clasp together, but his hips in between your legs didn't let you. His hardness only pressed to your clothed entrance with more urgency.

"You're driving me insane," Heeseung breathed out, now tracing lines against your breast with his nose like he was trying to hold back. To savor the moment. To be gentle. Trying not to ruin you. 

Yet.

"Hee, please," you almost cried out, hand tangling in his hair. His fingers were slowly tracing against your folds, already letting you two to hear how wet your pussy was. “I can't wait anymore..."

Then it happened. His fingers suddenly switched from the featherlike touch, pressing harder to your folds, pulling out of you a moan. Heeseung started rubbing them against your pussy with such urgency that could make you cum from that alone. Then he slowly slipped one finger inside your entrance, your body tensing.

"Angel, relax. How are you going to take me all in if you can't even take my finger?" Heeseung asked mockingly, rubbing your thigh with a free hand.

There it was. His dark side — teasing, mocking, dominant, and so fucking hot. It was that exact devil you met for the first time in the lobby, the one you fell in love with.

You relaxed your bottom, immediately feeling how deliciously a single Heeseung's finger was sliding inside you. You breathed out in pleasure, arching your back to feel him better.

"That's it," Heeseung encouraged, a smirk playing on his lips. He was intensely watching your body from the top to the bottom with a lustful gaze like it was his favorite view, the movie that was playing just for him. "Such a good girl for me," he praised in a low voice, free hand traveling up your body, brushing your sensitive skin from your stomach to your chest. He wrapped it around your throat, making you roll your eyes. "Yeah? Like it, baby? What a sinful angel..." Heeseung slightly chuckled, sliding inside you one more finger, making you gasp.

You held onto his hand around your throat, head throwing back, mouth aping in pleasure. Your back arched, hips rapidly moved to feel his fingers deeper inside you. You needed him. So dirty, so messy, so desperately.

Heeseung parted his fingers inside your pussy, pulling out of you a moan. Then he curled them, moving them in the way he knew you'd like, his thumb starting to circle your clit.

The pressure in your bottom part was building quickly, your hips thrusting to meet Heeseung's fingers, trying to shove them deeper inside you. The room was not silent anymore. You filled it with filthy sounds — your moans and wetness between your legs that was coating Heeseung's fingers.

“I-I’m close, Hee…” you managed to whine, back arching in an unnatural way that would definitely hurt later. But there was no later. Only now.

“Yes, angel? Are you gonna come for me?” Heeseung replied in the sweetest voice, his eyes so dark and lustful intensely watching you.

You desperately nodded, feeling how the movements of his fingers became more rapid and forceful. 

“Yes, baby, of course you are. Such a pretty angel. My beautiful girl…” Heeseung mumbled, leaning against your ear again. His praise only intensified your desire and the pressure in your stomach. You came hard with a loud moan, seeing stars, eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

Heeseung's fingers helped you to ride your orgasm, slowing down after. He pulled them out, causing you to whine, shoving them in his mouth and tasting you on his tongue.

“The kind of heaven I'm ready to die for,” Heeseung whispered, looking at your fuckuped state in bliss. Your back relaxed, falling to the mattress. The unnatural stretch was already giving away, pulsating in your lower back. Heeseung affectionately rubbed it with one hand, another one doing the same with your thigh. He leaned closer to your face to press a kiss on your forehead. “Angel?”

You hummed in response, slowly opening your eyes, damp hair pressing to your temples. Your hand shakily reached for Heeseung's face, resting on his cheek. His gaze managed to turn soft, even though you could still see lust in his eyes.

“I love you,” you whispered, brushing away a strand of his hair. Heeseung softly smiled, reaching to hold your hand and bring it to his mouth. His lips gently tickled the skin of your knuckles.

“I love you too,” he whispered, hot breath against the back of your hand. You smiled back, making him chuckle. “You can't even imagine… how crazy you made me,” Heeseung jokingly confessed, even though his words held the truth. “Can you imagine? A devil in love… and so soft.”

You chuckled, bringing his face closer to yours. “Well, I can.” Your mouth curved into a grin, Heeseung's eyes lowering to your lips. 

You felt something hard pressing against your thigh, making you sigh at the realization. The rush of heat washed over you again. You brought his face even closer to yours, lips smacking against his in the affectionate peck. “Hee,” your voice was quiet but firm. Something serious and sad was in your gaze, but Heeseung couldn't quite catch it. “I want you all to myself tonight."

Heeseung's breath caught in his throat. The way you said this phrase made his stomach flip, his cock becoming even harder — if that was even possible.

"Yeah?" he asked in a hoarse voice, quite affected by your bold phrasing. His eyebrows raised, and the smirk spread all over his face. Yet, his gaze was filled with something deeper, more emotional. Something similar to adoration.

"Yeah," you whispered in reply, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs and studying the lines of your touch with your eyes, trying to remember every single part of his face — his adorable mole on the forehead, his beautiful deer eyes, his plump pink lips, his soft skin. "And I want you to have me too. All of me..."

A lonely tear escaped your eye, soaking the side of your cheek like a reminder of inevitability. Of the predicted future you two were so scared of. The one that was making you doubtful about the next morning, and sure only about the present moment.

One of your hands traveled down Heeseung's torso with a gentle touch, eyes not looking away from his. With the softness of an angel, you tugged on the waistband of his pants, pulling them off his hips. Heeseung's grip on your waist tightened, your featherlike touch clearly affecting him.

With another hand, you pulled his face closer to yours, lips finally touching each other, tongues slowly moving in a gentle dance full of love. You led the kiss and your other hand down his hips to palm his hardness through the boxers. Heeseung groaned in your lips, breaking the kiss and pressing his forehead to yours.

"Teasing is not good for an angel, baby," he breathed out, his dark eyes locking on yours. You gave him a small smile and led your hand under the waistband of his underwear.

"I guess you've spoiled me," your words pulled out of him a chuckle that immediately turned into a moan when you touched him without any fabric in between.

Your hand stroked his free cock, spreading pre-cum all over his length. Heeseung bent your leg, pressing it to you. The tip of his dick was almost touching your core. You ended up gasping at the loss of control when he gripped your hand, pulling it away from his cock and pressing your wrists above your head to the mattress.

"So you're blaming it on me, huh? For the effect I have on you, for turning you into a dirty angel?" Heeseung murmured with a wicked smirk, the tip of his cock pressing to your entrance.

You intended to roll your hips, but he held you still, his free hand pressing your bottom to the mattress.

"Say it, baby. Say it's all my effect," Heeseung's cock teasingly slided between your folds, making you shiver, pulling out of you a whine. "The way you shake and make these pretty noises, the way you're all wet now. Is it all because of me? Answer, sweetheart."

You shakily took a breath, the tension was already building inside your stomach again.

"Yes... It's all you. Because of you. For you," Heeseung groaned at your words, finally sliding inside in one motion. You two moaned from the feeling of being so close to each other, of being in the right place with the right person.

"Gosh, you're insane..." Heeseung stood still for a moment, letting you adjust to his length. Your breaths were heavy, eyes locked on each other.

When you clenched around his cock, he took it as a sign and started moving, settling a slow rhythm. His thrusts were deep, hitting the right spots inside you and pulling out of you two moans. The room was filled with the wet sounds of your hot bodies collided together.

At that exact moment, you realized it. The way Heeseung's body was hovering over you, the way he was pressing you to the bed, the way he let go of your wrist just to hold your hand even when his thrusts were not the most gentle. Everything about it was wrong, yet felt so right. You actually could tell you were loved, happy even. And nothing mattered anymore. You realized that sacrificing yourself for moments like this was your actual fate. And it brought you relief, especially in the moment when Heeseung thrusted deeper, bringing you two to the edge of pleasure.

Heeseung's body weakened, carefully lying on yours, trying not to hurt you. Your heavy breaths became the only sound in the silent room.

You reached to bring his head closer, to run fingers in his soft locks again. He obeyed, burying his face deeper in the crook of your neck, arms instinctively wrapping around you.

Your eyes looked up above you. The ceiling had already started turning light, patterns from the rising sun becoming more evident. While caressing the nape of Heeseung's neck, your hand felt something unfamiliar to the touch. Your gaze moved to his back. That was his wings. Dark and devilish, they appeared on his back, signaling of the fact he was not able to control his form anymore. Your silent tears turned your face wet again.

Heeseung lifted his head from your neck. His eyes, supposed to be dark and sinful, held the unspoken softness and intimacy. His eyebrows were frowned, face wet and slightly red from the tears.

You two snapped.

Your hands cupped his face, pulling him closer to yours. Heeseung held the back of your head, embracing you with his other hand. You sat on the bed, your own wings already making it hard to lie down.

The kiss.

Your lips pressed to each other with unhidden emotion. It wasn't lust or passion, long forgotten in the sheets of this bed. They'd disappeared, turning into a smoke that dispersed around the room. It was love. Maybe something even deeper than that.

When you pulled away, looking into Heeseung's eyes, the tears were running down your face.

"Hee," you said in panic, searching for his reaction in his eyes. He gently held you, eyes soft and — out of a sudden — calm.

"Shhh, I'm here," Heeseung whispered, caressing the sides of your face with his thumbs. But the panic that settled in your soul didn't disappear.

"I don't want you to leave..." you whispered, feeling a lump in your throat from the tears that were blurring your view.

Heeseung gave you a small smile, wiping off the wet paths from your face. "I'm not going anywhere, angel. I'm always here, with you."

The corner of your eye caught a slight smoke coming from Heeseung's wing. You rushed to wrap hands around his neck, lips pressing to all of the possible spots for a kiss on his face.

"Pleasepleaseplease," you mumbled, begging for not knowing who. The panic was hitting hard, the inability to do absolutely anything was only making it worse.

"Angel, you need to calm down," Heeseung firmly said, not loving your anxious state. "Breathe with me, okay?"

You tried to calm down, to breathe. You even managed to do it for seconds. But when Heeseung started talking to you with a dark expression on his face, your face covered in tears again.

"Angel, I want you to know. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. And I am grateful to every single moment two of us spent together. Without you, my existence would be dull, nothing different from other devils' existence. But your presence made it bright," he tried to hold back the sob, but it didn't turn out successfully.

You hurried to hold him closer again, hands caressing his back in panic, lips pressing to his temple a countless number of times. Your sobs collided together, faces wet and red from tears.

"There is one more thing I want you to remember..." Heeseung managed to start, his wing already starting to be erased. "I love you," he whispered.

Tears started to run down your cheeks even more.

"I love you too," you whispered back.

He gave you a small smile. The wings almost disappeared behind his back, which meant that he was next.

You pressed lips to his again. You weren't kissing him like it was the last time. It was your last time.

His face started slipping away from your hands, turning into a little smoke. When you weren't feeling his lips on yours anymore, you opened your eyes.

He was gone.

You silently lay on the bed, not noticing how your wings had already disappeared.

The patterns on the ceiling were the same. They were still dancing in the sunrise just like they did when Heeseung was still there. When he was holding you. When he could tell you to stop overthinking, could call you 'his angel' and wipe the tears off your face. Now he was gone, but the patterns were still there.

Your hands started feeling numb, but you weren't paying attention. The only thing you could think of was Heeseung. You could still remember his dark, warm eyes, but you were craving to be able to actually see them. They were better in real life than in your imagination.

Smoke.

The smoke started blurring the vision, hiding the familiar patterns on the ceiling from your sight. It was getting harder to think with every second like someone was sucking the energy out of you. The patterns on the ceiling disappeared from your sight at all.

It was hard until it became easy. Until you let out the last sigh. Until you turned into nothing.

This is how you were erased from this world. With the last wish in your head. You desired to meet Heeseung again. To be born and able to find him. To see his warm eyes again. To wrap hands around him. To kiss him.

It was your last wish. But did you have a right to ask for that?

No. Because everyone knows that Heaven doesn't forgive those who are fallen.

© wemalyri All rights reserved. Do not copy or translate without permission.

//tags: @ikeugirly

if you loved the fic, pls let me know about it! (like, comment or repost)

[archivewriter1ont]

Platonic Obi-Wan and Cody Thoughts

Seriously, people are sleeping on the platonic-blood-brothers-power-duo that Cody and Obi-Wan are as best friends.

Imagine how many times during the war one of the other Jedi commed in to check on Obi-Wan. Maybe the space Zoom was left open or the holomessage went through , but even though the monitor is awake, Obi-Wan is asleep. Mace Windu catches a glimpse of his almost-nephew sacked out against Cody while he and the commander are sitting at the desk. Both of them are still in armor, still holding flimsiwork and datapads, but completely passed out because they're exhausted and the only place they feel safe is with the other one at their back. Mace shuts down the call with a smile, knowing Obi-Wan's not alone -- that he has someone to watch over and protect him like (or maybe better than) Qui-Gon would have done.

Imagine the feeling of knowing you are about to die. At Point Rain, Cody and Obi-Wan knew there was no kriffing way they would make it out if reinforcements didn't get there on time, and it didn't look like they would. So what did they do? They stood together, weapons raised, teeth bared in matching snarls that told the world you can kill us but you can't stop us. That's Aragorn and Legolas style brotherhood -- "you look awful" "you're late (idiot)" merged with "I will follow you to the pits of hell and if we die, I'm going first."

Imagine the fear that clutched Obi-Wan's heart when he saw a missile about to take Cody to the grave and realized Cody knew there was nothing to do but accept it and take death like a man. He's trying to be the Perfect Jedi, so he's not attached to Cody, he's not obsessed with their bond, but that's his best friend and he pushes himself to the very brink and pulls off an incredible stunt to save his life. Then he yells at him, of course, because that's what you do when your sibling tries to get incinerated.

Imagine how Cody felt when he thought Obi-Wan was assassinated. How he grieved in silence, feeling as though the one time he wasn't with his best friend he was murdered.

Imagine that scene when Obi-Wan came back from the "dead" and Cody realized he'd mourned his friend in vain. Now he realizes just how much he loves Obi-Wan (as a friend, as a brother) and he probably lashes out at first, angry and hurt, until he sees the regret in Obi-Wan's face and both of them crumple into a hug, just glad everything is okay now. (I still need to write this because man, the feels.)

And then after the war (because Order 66 didn't happen and everything was lovely)....

Imagine that bear hug when the war ends, when Cody hands Obi-Wan his saber for the last time and knows they can truly know what it's like to be at peace.

Imagine the returning Jedi Generals and their commanders meeting up at the Temple to celebrate, only to find that Cody and Obi-Wan are already asleep because they sat too long in the garden waiting on them. Mace grins because even though it's a repeat of the time he caught them dozing on flimsiwork during a Zoom call, they both look restful now. They're both safe and they know it, but more importantly, they know that each other is safe.

Imagine Uncle Cody with Korkie, teaching him how to defend himself and his family and then taking him out for ice cream.

Imagine Satine and Cody being best friends/siblings-in-law. Tea, gossip, etc -- she loves him like a brother and he's thrilled to finally get to know the family he's always hoped Obi-Wan could go back to some day.

Imagine Obi-Wan and Cody going gray at the same time because Cody's accelerated aging was fixed, and laughing about the times they thought they'd never see the ages they are now. Imagine Korkie's little kiddos running up to see "Grandpa" and "Uncle Cody" and smothering them both in the kind of family love they were sure they'd never experience.

I have so much more where this came from but I'm crying now and I can't see my keyboard.😭

Post inspired by this one courtesy of @margindoodles2407.

[royalarchivist]

Pac: Take care of Ramon, take care of Richas, ok? See you on the other side, big boy.

Fit: You can’t just say “big boy” and then just expect me to NOT drag you outta here. [Fit tries to lasso Pac] You’re coming with me. You are not dying today! You are NOT dying today!

Pac: I need to leave, Fit! I’m sorry, I’m SORRY!

Ironmouse: Are you guys like, having sexy time?

Fit: There’s homosexual activity going on Mouse, don’t worry about us, ok?

Ironmouse: You guys, we don’t have time to be gay right now. 🙄

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

—

[ Longer clip ]

Pac: I’m just here to say goodbye to you, Fit.

Fit: Goodbye? We’re not– we’re gonna be fine, we’re going to get out of here, don’t worry.

Aypierre: Yeah, don’t worry!

Pac: I know, but like– I will sleep until the end, you know? I will pass through this moment sleeping, man. I won’t be able to be awake for the moment.

Fit: [Laughs] You know, it's– I mean, if that’s how you wanna go, but– I mean, that- I mean, isn’t that bed kind of like…. I don’t know, it's–

Pac: No no, I will be staying on the sofa, you know, I will be staying on the sofa.

Fit: Oh the sofa. Ok, that’s a nice sofa! Yeah, that is a pretty nice sofa.

Pac: Yeah, it’s a nice sofa right? No, yeah– I’m going to stay on the sofa, you know? So, since I will be going Fit… [Pac starts tossing Fit all his items]

Aypierre: [Not paying attention to their conversation] Is that bigger cell? I don’t think it’s a bigger- biggest one.

Fit: Oh… Thank you Pac, thank you.

Pac: Everything you need to survive, ok?

Fit: Wow.

Aypierre: Wow.

Pac: And if you need this one also, maybe, who knows? [Throws him more items]

Fit: Ohhh, well hey– just take this to remember me by, ok? [Tosses him a photo of himself – the same one Aypierre was carrying all day yesterday]

Pac: [Laughs] Ok, I will sleep holding the picture you know, like this. You know, I will dream about you, Fit. And I hope this is gonna be good dreams. I see you in the other side. Good luck, my friend.

Fit: The other side… Yeah, you know, yeah, we– we– you know? It’s been an honor, Pac. It’s been an honor, you know?

Pac: Yeah, for me too, you know? Take care of Ramon, take care of Richas, ok?

Fit: Ok.

Pac: See you on the other side, big boy.

Fit: I will sing your praise– Oh yeah, hey– [Laughs] Take it easy, big boy. Take it easy, big boy. Actually, nononono– You can’t just say “big boy” and then just expect me to not drag you outta here. You’re coming with me.

Pac: No, I need to leave!

Fit: You’re coming with me. You are not dying today! You are not dying today!

Pac: I need to leave, Fit! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!

Fit: Sorry, there's–

Pac: I’m sorry!

Ironmouse: Are you guys like, having sexy time?

Fit: There’s homosexual activity going on Mouse, don’t worry about us, ok?

Ironmouse: You guys, you guys– we don’t have time to be gay right now, come on. There’s no time.

Pac: No, there’s no time! Oh, goodbye Fit…

Fit: Ok, c'mon, no no no, come on, we got this we got this!

Pac: Goodbye Fit, I’m sorry!

Fit: [Laughs] Oh no…

[justarandomhelluvablog]

sorry sorry last time I'm talking about huskerdust tonight but does it fuck anyone else up knowing that Husk and Angel basically lived at the same time but were on opposite sides of the country. But also Husk went traveling. Like these two could have met while they were alive and wouldn't even know it. They didn't even know the other existed until they met at the hotel

Like I have. so many thoughts about this.

[hyperfixating-rn-brb]

The Good Omens Fandom has had a lot of fun recently with the knowledge of Aziraphale and Crowley holding hands on the bus at the end of season 1.

Soo here's everything that went through my head as I learned of it for the first time.

For that entire scene, Aziraphale is really far gone. He's dissociating so hard he can't even realize he's been sitting on a sword. Crowley is probably the only thing keeping him grounded.

They just narrowly stopped Armageddon after a showdown with literally Satan, and still can't let their guard down. For the first time ever, they're completely on their own side. Now they have to orchestrate a body swap to save both of them. They wouldn't just be killed, they'd be completely destroyed. Everything must go exactly according to plan, but how often does that actually happen?

And on top of that, his bookshop, his home, his safe place with the demon he has to pretend not to love is burned and gone.

Crowley is so incredibly gentle and reassuring this entire scene. He's been through so much trauma himself and has spent a lot of his existence shielding the angel from it, hoping to protect some of his innocence and naivete. Crowley is absolutely familiar with every symptom of PTSD and anxiety.

Now he has to see his sweet angel see such a small bit of the horrors of heaven and hell and start to crumble inside. He's going to do his dam best to try and help Aziraphale through it. Speaking softly, ("the bookshop burned down... remember?) slowly and carefully, gradually helping to pull the angel back to reality, reminding him that he's there and will help ground him.

They get on the bus, and sit next to each other. 11 years ago, they sat nearby but separated while Crowley begs Aziraphale to help him prevent the Apocalypse. Now they are sitting together. Both an act of reassurance and unity.

Crowley sits first, Aziraphale could so easily just sit across from him, behind or in front. But he chooses to sit right next to him. And hold his hand. Aziraphale desperately needs to be near to the *former* demon he loves, to hold him, to make sure they won't be separated.

In the book, their famous lines of "none of this would have worked out if you weren't, deep down, just a bit of a good person" and "just enough of a b*stard to be worth liking" came as Satan rose from the earth, as a goodbye in case they were destroyed.

Luckily, that didn't happen and they survived. Armaggedon was stopped. But the angel is still so anxious of losing Crowley. So he chooses to reach out, to anchor himself and reassure himself that Crowley is still there beside him and that they are okay, at least for a few minutes.

And Crowley let him. He knows how badly Aziraphale needs him, he needs the angel just as much. He knows how badly he craved an anchor and support system as he was first abused and traumatized by his Fall, then further by Hell. So he's going to continue being there for Aziraphale, doing everything he can to make his angel feel safe and comfortable.

Over the next few years, Aziraphale would become so much more comfortable reaching out and touching Crowley. Leaning into him, resting a hand on his shoulder or briefly touching his chest. Somehow both reassuring himself that the former demon was still there, and reminding Crowley that he's still there for him at the same time.

Then Crowley becomes more comfortable with the touch, leaning into the angel by himself. No longer flinching at a sudden graze of a hand or reassuring squeeze.

That one moment of the two holding hands on the bus cemented so much of their relationship. "The last few years, not really..." all started on that bus the moment Aziraphale chose to sit down next to Crowley.

edited: at first this said "new knowledge" because I just found out about this all the other day, and wrote this up at 3 AM, and didn't really fact check when this knowledge became well known. I've only really been a GO fan since maybe 2021, and only really started being active in the fandom during the last few months, so a lot of info that is fairly well known is still generally new to me. soo yeah this was edited :)

source for anyone asking for it!

[zeroducks-2]

What's up with batman and the erasing of queer history? Sry I try to interact with fanon as little as possible

There is no simple or short answer to this but to try and not make it a wall of text - Batman/Robin has always been a staple of the queer community, so much so that to this day there are "brudick" graffiti in big cities and lots of older gay couples have been using them as a reference for solid partnership which endures in spite of adversity.

Originally there was no indication anywhere that Bruce and Dick were in the roles of father and son, rather they were partners against crime, one the shadow of the other, and they would share everything both when it came to crime fighting and in their everyday lives. They're shown sleeping together, going on lake trips together, finishing each other's sentences and Dick being viciously jealous every time Bruce would "replace" him with any of the women he used to have flings with such as Talia or Selina.

Did DC mean for them to be read as a queer couple? No, of course not. Bob Kane and others wrote a partnership, an unbreakable bond which would allow these two men to overcome any obstacle together, and queer people read into it as queer people always do.

Someone else read into it though: Frederick Wertham, who called Batman a pederast and used Batman and Robin as an example of how the evil comics would corrupt young minds to send them on the way of perdition and sin. He wrote all of this and many more infuriating shit in his book Seduction of the Innocents, which was then the major influence in creating the Hayes Code, which is the reason why we never had queer characters in comicbooks and movies and anything really for decades (and we're still struggling today).

Wertham and the Hayes Code did not stop the queer community from loving Batman and Robin though, therefore what started happening was the more subtle shift towards Bruce and Dick having a father and son relationship rather than a partnership. You can see this clearly with Jason Todd for the first time: Bruce takes Jason in and treats him as his own son, the narrative calls them father and son, and there is no doubt in the mind of who's reading that Bruce perceives Jason as his child. It all went steadily downhill from there.

Nowadays, writers have Dick say character assassinating things like "I love you dad" to Bruce, Tim saying "we will save our dad" to Damian, and everyone in the fandom acting like this has always been the case and actually you're weird and you should be sent death threats for shipping Brudick, because "UMMM that is literally his son?!??!?!?". DC has been pushing the idea that these folks are a nuclear family for a while now, but whoever has actually read the comics knows it's not the case, and it used to be very different before.

Brudick, among queer people, used to be entirely uncontroversial. While Wertham raged about how it corrupted the minds of young men and the Hayes Code prevented queerness to be anything but vaguely hinted and coded in the text, queer folks didn't care and kept having matching Batman and Robin shirts.

Today queer people will call you a pedophile and a groomer and try to doxx you for posting Brudick art because apparently they're doing the fascists' job for them, either because they are genuinely misguided or because they think that if they're enough morally pure they will have a spot among the chosen ones, hell if I know. What I know is that they'd suck Wertham's cock and balls if he wrote Seduction of the Innocents today, and it's DC's fault too with their erasure of every found family dynamic among the batclan, and the way they've been pushing the idea of a "batfamily" instead, in which everyone has a strict role of son or brother or father, and shipping them makes you the antichrist.

[pastorpresent]

When the dust settled of what Wade dubbed their 'super awesome Madonna world saving sacrifice', (don't fucking ask, god knows Logan doesn't) the TVA had offered to hire their services to round up variants that incorrectly stumbled into their universe. With a fucking paycheck.

Logan had been trying (and failing) to find work for a few weeks by that point. It was sort of difficult when he had no tangible work history in this universe, with no references that could actually be called. Or a social security number. Or a bank account. Or any form of ID, really.

Wade had already quickly agreed on both their behalfs, and Logan got the feeling he just needed a valid excuse to put the suit on now and again between his monotonous shifts at the dealership.

The only catch was that they had to undergo a physical and mental health assessment before hand.

He'd passes the physical with flying colours. The mental one... not so much. They'd still 'hired' him, but when he was given a folder with information regarding each fucking problem he had mentally, they'd heavy implied he needed to work on it to keep his job.

His plan had been to chuck it in the trash, or burn the fucker, but it'd slipped his mind to do either by the time they'd gotten home because Wade started trying to cook pasta for dinner and almost set the entire place on fire, somehow.

He left it on the side and Wade, being the nosy fucker he was, had of course read it.

There was a lot of shit Logan expected to find in there - depression, ptsd, alcoholism... stuff he didn't exactly need some fancy fucking doctor to tell him he had. A six year old could probably glance his way and identify that he needed antidepressants.

The one that he'd thought was odd, and the one Wade seemed to latch onto, was 'touch deprivation'.

The thing was, Wade was a shithead. He practically made it his goal whenever he walked into a room to be the most annoying person in that room. Usually successfully.

But he was also... good. He was a good person, despite what people might say to him. He wanted to help him, which was... sweet, he supposed.

A lot of the stuff in there was a bit tricky to 'fix', probably requiring some sort of medication or therapy (Logan point blank refused both) but a couple of things, Wade seemed hellbent on helping him with.

There was never any liquor in their apartment, for starters. Whenever Logan would buy any, it would go mysteriously missing the following day. Al didn't even know it had been there, and Wade was a shit liar with his innocent little shrug when Logan would ask.

Ar first it pissed him off but, well, Wade was just trying to help, and he was - helping, that is. Logan was actually sober more than he was drunk these days - which hasn't happened in at least a decade.

The 'touch deprivation' was another Wade seemed hell bent on helping with.

The merc was already tactile with his friends. Logan had seen him drape an arm over their shoulder, side hug them as they walked somewhere, hug them goodbye.

It seemed he dialled it up to a thousand with him, though.

If they both happened to be in the kitchen, Wade was brushing up against him every few seconds, murmuring apologies as he all but pressed against him under the guise of trying to move somewhere or reach something.

When they were out, Wade would let their arms and hands brush up against each other. If Logan was pushing the cart in the store, Wade would 'accidently' rest his hand over his on the handle bar.

It was little stuff, things that somebody on the outside of them would probably not even notice, until one night on the couch.

They'd been running around for the TVA all day, and Logan was irritable and exhausted. He felt about ready to claw his own skin off out of general frustration, built up from a day of shitty, all over the place missions.

They'd both showered and were sat watching gossip girl, but he just couldn't settle. He was switching position every few seconds, growling under his breath every time his discomfort returned, and he must've been annoying the fuck out of Wade, he thought.

After maybe an hour - and Logan wasn't going to cry, but he damn sure felt like it, Wade sighed next to him.

Logan immediately found himself growing defensive, ready to argue that it wasn't his fucking fault his skin felt all tingly and wrong, and that the couch was too soft, or that there was a dumb ache in his chest that he didn't understand.

Wade didn't start arguing though. Instead, he lifted an arm in invitation.

Logan stared at him like he'd lost his fucking mind. How many hits to the head had he taken today? Could his regenerative abilities repair concussion or should Logan be taking him to a fucking hospital?

"Come on, peanut. Let me help," Wade said, which only confused Logan more. He didn't even know what was wrong- so how did Wade reckon he could fix it?

"I'm fine," he gritted out with a glare, trying to keep still to prove his point but fuck, his skin felt painful and tight.

"Alright," Wade held his hands up in surrender before letting them drop, turning back to the TV.

Logan watched him for a few seconds, then scoffed loudly, moving to lay a bit more on the arm rest.

It felt like it was digging into his ribs. He scratched his arm, barely resisting the urge to unsheathe his claws. He adjusted to lie back into the cushions. He sunk in too much, and the soft cushions felt like sandpaper against his on-fire skin.

Something dangerously close to a whimper escaped his lips, and he had to blink back a dampness building in his vision. Fuck, what the hell was wrong with him?

"Lo," he thought Wade had went back to focusing on the show, but apparently he'd been wrong, because the merc was staring at him with soft, concerned eyes, and Logan wanted to scream.

"What?" Logan snipped, but it was missing any of the intended edge.

"Let me try and help. No one else is here, it's just us - and if you don't like it, you can just sit back up," Wade lifted an arm again, an invitation for Logan to curl up against him and... it pissed him off how nice that sounded.

He hesitated for a few moments longer. Too long, really, and he expected Wade to rescind the offer entirely out of impatience.

He didn't. He just adjusted himself to be more sprawled back against the couch cushions, parting his legs a little and keeping his arm raised.

Logan made a defeated noise in the back of his throat, crawling closer. He hovered awkwardly between Wade's legs, unsure how to proceed, and Wade just gently pushed on his shoulders to get him to lie down, his head and upper torso covering Wade's chest and lower body.

He worried he'd be too heavy for Wade, but the younger man didn't seem bothered whatsoever. Perks of him being built pretty indestructible, probably.

"Good boy," he praised quietly, running his hand through Logan's hair. Essentially petting him, really, and Logan couldn't explain it but it's like everything in his head and everything with his body quietened down. He could breathe again, and he found himself going boneless against the younger man.

He wrapped his arms around Wade's torso, nuzzling into his stomach with a content sound, his eyes slipping shut as Wade continued to play with his hair, stroke over his back, brush fingers over his neck, calming the burn of his skin wherever they went.

It became a regular occurrence after that. Every night when they settled down to watch TV, Wade would wordlessly lift an arm, and Logan would wordlessly crawl over to lie against him. Sometimes they reversed it, because Logan discovered that having Wade lying atop of him felt incredibly grounding. Usually though, he'd be the one pressed up against the merc, tangled around him like some sort of extra clingy and extra heavy octopus. Wade would always 'pet' him, mumbling occasional praise as he ran gentle fingers over his body, scratching his scalp or dragging blunt nails over his back and arms.

Logan didn't realise how desperately he needed the touch until it was gone.

They'd been arguing all day. It was all stupid shit, really - moreso driven by the fact they hadn't had a mission in a while. Wade grew antsy if he'd been out of commission too long, and if he had to work so many back to back shifts at the dealership. And Logan grew irritable being stuck in the tiny apartment with no real purpose all day.

He'd went to the store and bought himself a bottle of whiskey to occupy his mind, to stop the thoughts of his old found family dead on the ground from a fight he could've aided in leaking into his brain.

Wade, as usual, had poured it down the drain. Something that, ordinarily, Logan would've been pissed about but let drop fairly quickly- because despite what others may think of him, his sort of almost sobriety did matter to him. It mattered to Wade too, which is why Logan never usually got all that mad at him for pouring perfectly good alcohol down the drain.

Maybe it was because of the irritation already brewing within them both, or maybe it was because Logan had really been relying on loosing himself in that bottle, but the argument quickly spiralled out of hand.

"You can't just pour out my shit, Wade!" Logan yelled, gesturing to the now empty bottle.

"Yeah, I'm being totally unreasonable. Next time I'll let you drink yourself into a stupor, pinky fucking promise!" Wade yelled back.

"You had no fucking right!"

"Do you think I want to, huh?! You think I just love having to control your alcohol intake like your some sixteen year old girl who discovered fucking smirnoff for the first time?!"

"Then fucking don't! I don't need you to do anything for me! I managed by myself for two hundred fucking years, I don't fucking need you, and I certainly don't fucking want you!" Logan shouted, probably loud enough that they'd get complaints from the neighbours later.

The ensuing silence felt even louder.

He regretted it immediately. He didn't mean it, and he knew that as soon as he'd said it. Because yeah, he might be able to survive by himself- but that's all it ever was. Fucking survival.

Wade showed him how to live.

He was still too angry to take any of it back, though. To admit he'd crossed a line.

"Fine. Do whatever the fuck you want, Logan," and Wade left, their bedroom door slamming echoing throughout the whole apartment.

They avoided each other for days. Even when they were together, there was silence. Wade didn't crack any of his usual jokes. They ate in silence. They stopped waking up tangled up in one another, and Wade no longer opened an arm in invitation when they were sharing the couch alone. No hand over hand on the cart, or arms brushing in the street, none of it.

Logan didn't give a shit, obviously. He bought ridiculous amounts of alcohol and drank until he passed out on their kitchen floor, waking up a few hours later cover in his own vomit and Mary Puppins peering at him curiously. Even the fucking dog was judging him.

It was the week mark, and Logan actually hadn't had a drink that day. Only because he had ran dry on money to buy any, and he'd considered stealing some but thought it wouldn't be worth losing his job with the TVA. He did maybe try drinking some of Al's nail polish remover, but he was halfway into the bottle when he realised she used the type that was fucking alcohol free.

Not his proudest moment.

His body already felt weary from the slight pulls of withdrawal when he sat on his end of the couch, purposefully not glancing Wade's way. It was very much like how he'd felt when he stopped drinking so much in this universe. The tiredness that ate down to his bones, the cravings niggling his brain constantly.

He already didn't feel great - but then the itching started, and it got intense fast.

His efforts to keep still were futile. It was so much worse than the first time around, and worse still because he knew what was missing, and it was his own fault he didn't have it anymore.

What the fuck was he supposed to say? 'Hey I know I said I didn't need you and to stop treating me like a child, but if you don't cuddle me right now I might fucking explode'.

No. He couldn't do that.

Everything hurt. He couldn't draw a breath in properly, and even the feeling of his clothes against his skin felt fucking wrong. Like it was too... light.

The final straw was when one of those tears welling in his eyes actually escaped, rolling down his cheek. He wiped at it harshly, and got up without another word, heading straight for their bedroom.

He couldn't let Wade see him like this. He was fucking pathetic.

He stripped down to his boxers, needing the stupid fabric to stop touching him, and got onto their bed. The covers felt scratchy, and he kicked them away with a growl. In the process of his aggressive attempts to find a comfortable position, he got a whiff of a familiar scent.

Wades. Wade's pillow smelt exactly like him.

It was the first time since the itching feeling started that he felt some sembelence of calm. His skin still burnt, but he could sort of zone it out for a moment.

He tried to turn away. To ignore it, because it was fucking stupid, but he didn't last long before he was grabbing the pillow and pulling it towards him, pressing his face into it and inhaling deeply.

He didn't remember when he started crying, but the pillow was soon wet with tears. He was so fucking stupid. Utterly fucking ridiculous - a grown ass man crying into a pillow because, what? He didn't have someone playing with his fucking hair?

He was so, so beyond furious at himself. At how ridiculous he was, and at how massively he'd managed to mess everything up.

Wade was good. He was bad. He should've known from the get go that he'd fuck it all up.

"Jesus, Logan," the soft gasp startled him from his thoughts abruptly, and he panicked. He sat up, shoving the pillow aside despite the fact Wade had seen exactly what he was doing.

Maybe he'd get lucky and one of those stupid ring portals would appear beneath him and send him elsewhere. Anywhere, really- he didn't care, it would be better than this.

"What?"

The biting tone wasn't all that effective when he had to scrub at his eyes to get rid of the tears.

It didn't even work anyway. They wouldn't fucking stop now that he'd let them start, and the fact Wade had caught him sitting there breathing in dredges of his scent while fucking crying - maybe part of it was just the utter humiliation of it all.

"Oh, Lo. It's alright," Wade murmured, and then he was shutting the door and crossing the room, climbing onto the bed.

He reached out, but seemed to hesitate, his arm dropping, "can I touch you?"

Logan only cried harder, his body practically vibrating, as if it was attempting to force him to move closer even unconsciously. He gave a jerky nod, "please."

Wade was on him in an instant, pulling him in so tight that to anyone without super strength and regenerating abilities, it would probably hurt.

Logan didn't care. He needed more. The fire was tamed, but it was still there, the embers tickling his body and threatening to overtake him again.

His hands tugged at the hem of Wade's shirt, seeking permission. He needed the stupid itchy fabric gone. The press of it was too soft and gentle. He needed skin. Needed something solid. Needed Wade, now.

"Shirt off?" Wade clarified, and Logan nodded where his head was tucked into the crook of his neck.

He hadn't accounted for the fact that they'd have to break their embrace to do it.

Wade tried to pull back, but Logan gasped, digging his nails in and keeping himself plastered to Wade's front.

"I'm not going anywhere, peanut. I'm just taking my clothes off, alright? I'm not leaving you, I swear," Wade put both hands on the side of his face, lifting it so he could look into his eyes as he spoke, the pad of his thumb wiping away his tears.

Logan reluctantly let go, shivering violently when everything hit him again.

Wade made quick work of stripping off his shirt and sweatpants, leaving him in his briefs. He lay down, and opened his arm.

Logan could've started crying again in relief. He all but dove at the younger man, burying his face away in his chest, wrapping his arms tight around him. Wade held him tightly, pulling him in enough so their bodies were pressed together solidly.

He lifted a hand and started stroking his hair, shushing him softly and rocking their bodies a little.

"I'm sorry. 'M so sorry, I didn't mean any of it," and ordinarily he might very been reluctant to say it, never being all that good at swallowing down his perceived pride, but it felt too important not to say.

Because despite everything, Wade had came in here to check on him. He could've just continued to watch TV. He could've so easily made fun of him for what he'd walked into, mocking how fucking stupid he was, and walked straight back out. He could've and should've done all of that, but he didn't. Because he was Wade, and he was good, and Logan would never fully understand what positivity he put out into the world to earn him.

"I know, me neither. Just calm down, Lo. It's all good now, I've got you," Wade assured, squeezing tighter, and Logan made a small satisfied sound, nosing at Wade's chest and then his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo and body wash.

The itching had ceased, but he still felt like he needed more, like it wasn't enough until he sliced Wade open and crawled inside of him, curled up contently next to his beating heart, burrowed beneathe his ribs.

He didn't verbalise it, but Wade seemed to understand, as usual.

"On your back, baby," he directed, and Logan did so without complaint.

Wade moved with him, lying on top of him completely, tangling their legs together, a solid weight pressing him into the mattress, and ironically enough he finally felt like he could breathe again.

"Good boy. You're so good, peanut," Wade hummed, running fingers over his shoulders. Logan disagreed, but he was too out of it to really argue. He felt like he was floating on a cloud, hovering out of his body.

He didn't realise he was biting until Wade let out a soft sound above him, and the metallic taste filled his mouth.

"Fuck, sorry I... I didn't realise," he tried to move away, eyes wide, but Wade shushed him again, his expression something fond.

"Does it help?" Wade asked simply, and Logan swallowed. It did. It was... it was like Wade felt closer to him, somehow.

"Mhm, but don't wanna hurt you," he felt almost drunk, his words slurring a little as he watched the small wound on Wade's shoulder close up.

"I'll heal, angel. Have at it," Wade tilted his head in invitation, and Logan nosed at his neck for a moment, still not entirely sure, before sticking out the tip of his tongue and licking experimentally. He moaned softly at the taste of Wade on his taste buds, pressing his nose against his adams apple simultaneously to breathe him in. He let his teeth sink in lightly, nibbling at the sensitive area.

Wade groaned atop of him, and Logan went to pull away, but the merc held him there by the back of his head, "keep going. Please, Lo," and he sounded breathless and needy, and it made Logan growl with animalistic possessiveness, biting down a bit harder, blood running to the surface, which he quickly lapped up.

He couldn't really tell who connected lips first, he was fairly certain it was him, but it didn't really matter ultimately. They were high off one another, Wade grinding down while Logan rutted up, both of them rock solid against each other.

Logan bit at his lip, drawing blood before licking it away filthily, dragging his nails all over every surface of Wade he could reach. He needed him. He needed him so fucking badly. He wanted to worship every square inch of him then crawl beneathe his skin and make a home there.

He reached between them, wrapping a hand around Wade's length, but the merc caught his wrist, using the other hand to grip Logan's jaw and direct their eyes to meet.

"Logan," he knew vaguely that Wade wanted him to listen, but he was too busy whining beneathe him, pushing his hips up trying to chase the friction that every cell in his body was fucking screaming for. He didn't want to stop, and he didn't get why Wade was making him.

"Logan. Hey, eyes on me, peanut," Wade ordered firmly, and Logan finally reluctantly ceased his movements, blinking Wade's face into his focus.

"How are you feeling?"

And Logan huffed, glaring a little, because did Wade really stop what they were doing just to ask him that? Seriously?

"I'm fine," he replied shortly, trying to go for Wade's mouth again, but found himself held down by a hand against his bare chest.

"I'm going to need a bit more than that before we go any further, peanut. Especially with how upset you were just twenty minutes ago," Wade was stroking a hand through his hair again, and the calmness that filled his body from the touch was enough to get him to settle down just a little, sinking into the bed and giving up his valiant mission of jerking off against Wade's solid form.

"I just need to know you're okay, and I need to know you're doing this because you want it, not just because you feel like you need it."

"I want it. I want it a lot," he said after a few seconds, looking up at Wade. It was the most vulnerable he'd felt in forever, and all he could do was hope that Wade took that and handled it carefully.

Wade smiled, kissing Logan firmly. Logan gasped into it, letting his mouth open wider, inviting Wade in to explore as he pleased.

Wade pulled away suddenly, and Logan very almost ripped his head off of his shoulders in order to keep him close.

"Easy, boy. I'm just trying to sort you out," Wade explained with fingers teasing the waistband of his boxers.

It was ridiculous, but he wasn't certain he could handle the younger man's body weight leaving him. That press, being able to feel every inch of Wade against him, it was the only thing keeping him tethered in reality. He couldn't handle his skin setting alight again. Especially not when he had went a whole week without Wade's touch.

"Baby," and something about Wade calling him that made him want to crumble. Want to get onto his knees and suck him off and worship him like he deserved, because he must be a God- that's the only explanation as to how he can breathe a single word and make Logan unravel. Because he'd never been that. He'd never been anyone's 'baby', because no one ever bothered to be tender with him before. He was The Wolverine. He was supposed to be rough, and rugged, and maybe 'handsome', but never 'pretty'. Never 'baby'.

And yet everytime it rolled off of Wade's tongue it was so genuine, so sweet and caring, and it was almost like a permission slip for Logan to let the gruff exterior drop just for a minute, and be somebody's 'baby'. Be Wade's 'baby'.

"You don't want me to leave, peanut? You want me to stay on top of you?" Wade asked, because he was genuinely bothered by the idea of Logan not being one million percent happy with this experience.

Logan found his mouth and kissed him again. This one was gentle. So, so gentle. No blood or biting or back and forth - just a barely there press of lips. A thank you, sealed away in a kiss.

"Please," he answered quietly, speaking it into Wade's parted mouth, "I just... I need to know you're here, I think. I need to..." he trailed off, unsure how to finish.

How could he verbalise that he needed to feel him so completely, that he needed Wade everywhere all over him, all at once? How could he say that without scaring him away entirely?

Maybe that would be for the best, in all honesty. He couldn't be so damn reliant - not when Wade had a fucking life to live. A future to build. Why should he put that on hold just because Logan crash landed into his reality?

He should be going on dates with Vanessa right now, trying to fix things. Or hanging out with his actual friends. He should be doing a lot of things- but trying to fix something in Logan that had been irreparably smashed to pieces years ago was not one of them.

"I need- we need to stop," he spoke, even as every cell in his body was screaming no, fuck no.

Wade frowned, the hand that had been tracing over his arms pausing.

"What?"

"I can't. I can't do it. I can't."

He couldn't drag Wade down into the fucking abyss. He couldn't force him to live out his eternity like this.

"Okay, that's okay peanut. You want me to get off of you?" Wade offered, and Logan nodded.

It killed him, but he nodded.

Wade lifted up, manoeuvring onto the edge of the bed.

Logan wanted to throw up, that cold and empty feeling returning to his gut, spreading through all of his limbs like poison. 'This is good, Wade is good, you are bad' was like a mantra in his head, growing louder and louder until all Logan could hear was the rapid thumping of his own heart and those words, screamed, being etched across his organs like a warning.

Maybe the repeated frying of his brain was finally catching up to him.

"Logan, what's wrong?"

Logan wanted to tear his own fucking skin off.

"Did- was it too much? Did I go too far? I'm sorry, I just thought it's what you wanted," Wade was apologising, he was fucking apologising, and Logan was barely holding it the fuck together, his chest tightening.

"No. No, it's... I need to be alone," he choked on the last word, as if his body was physically fighting him from saying it.

Wade was looking at him with a small frown, reaching out for his hand resting on the mattress which Logan quickly moved away.

He'd never forget the look of hurt etched onto the others face. He might very well of tried to hide it, but he caught the flash of upset that filled Wade's features so intensely for just a moment.

"Of course. Yeah, sorry. I'll just," Wade gestured vaguely to the bedroom door before all but racing out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Logan sighed shakily, curling up on himself and trying in vain to stop the tears coming.

Part 2 up now

[croquettish]

The divorce era is such a fascinating time for me because both Henry and Hans end up doing more or less the same thing (keeping in mind different skill sets) and always with each other still in mind.

Henry is off doing what he's good at (whatever other people happen to need him to do that sounds interesting enough) while Hans is poaching, but both are doing so with the express intent of getting enough money so they can show up at Trosky together.

Hans' language when you find him poaching is fascinating:

We? We?

Hans, are you telling me that you're hoping to provide for Henry financially?

This reminds me again of Hans and his love language of gift giving. He wants so badly to feel useful and to make himself useful to Henry who is, effectively, usefulness incarnate all by himself.

Look, Henry! Look how useful he is with this specific skill!

Henry reminds him that this was not, in fact, the case, and Hans promptly objects:

He doesn't deny this with any sort of backing or evidence, instead he immediately shifts tactics and points out that hell, regardless of the truth, he'll still be able to make a bunch of money to take care of the two of them by doing what he's doing here. No matter what Henry says, he's great at hunting and he even has great bargaining skills that can help them!

Again with that very telling we!!

Which is a far cry from where he was at after leaving the pillory:

Not a single we to be found here. Henry was the one insisting that they'd stick together, that they'd keep going at it together, but Hans insists on leaving. He'll look after himself by himself and go and see von Bergow by himself.

He certainly doesn't need Henry, so he's pissing off (read: you don't need me, I'm a burden, and I've been holding you back all this time).

If Henry keeps pushing at this point that this poaching of his is risky and a bad idea, Hans again reiterates the need for them both to get to the castle:

It's kind of irrelevant here how hard Henry has been working or how much money he's made. This is all about Hans' desperate need to be useful to Henry. To give Henry a reason to keep him around even when he's a boatload of trouble.

Of course, at this point Henry can convince Hans to put down the poaching equipment not for his own sake, but for Henry's sake: as pointed out here by @lin-sterling and the excellent tags on their post by @audentesfortunaiuvatt, Hans would never stop to save his own skin, he only does so because he could get Henry in trouble.

We'll ignore the part where he's spontaneously jealous of the fucking gamekeeper for having Henry in his service at this point and instead notice that even here, even though he's already made coin and has the ability to make more "selling all this game," Hans here insists that it's fine, he'll not only stop poaching, he'll find something else to do. To get them into the wedding and then an audience with von Bergow. He'll get them into Trosky yet!

No fucking wonder that Hans reacts like this at the wedding shortly after he sees Henry there. Henry didn't need him to get into the wedding. He managed it all on his own. And isn't that a fucking pisser.

When Henry first speaks to him there, he can ask what he's doing there. At which point Hans (almost defensively tbh) points out that he's working on their task, and that, well, obviously he would be doing that. What else could he possibly be doing, Henry!

Later on, when Henry runs into him with Enneleyn, he reemphasizes this again as well. It's still their task.

All this time, it's always been their task. No matter what Hans claimed in the pillory or after, he never stopped thinking of them as a team.

[roseburning]

I've been thinking about those soulmate AUs where whatever happens to your skin translate's to your soulmates, so when you get hurt, they get hurt as well. Those can be really cute with other ships when one doddles on their skin, or if one works as vet and has weird scratches.

But Cherik. Fuck, Cherik.

Kurt beating Charles up and Erik thinking that the bruises he doesn't remember is just Shaw experimenting on him while unconscious. That's just the tip of the iceberg.

One random morning when Charles is a kid, he feels this excruciating pain and numbers appear on forearm. From that point beyond it's just downhill, everyday he screams like it's torture, because, well, it is.

It gets to a point where even his negligent mother can't ignore and takes him to a hospital, he gets tested for every single type of chronic pain possible, but it all turns negative, so they think he's faking it/ it's psychological. But his shitty family still doesn't want to deal with that, so they lock him up in the hospital, so the doctors can "treat him" and "ease the pain", however nothing works — because the it's not Charles', it's Erik's.

At this point some might suspect it's soulmate induced, but what kind of person would be torture this much for so long?

Raven is the only one who keeps visiting, disguised as a nurse or a doctor, she's the only one who believes him. Until the late 1940s, when the pain stops. Erik is free from the camps. Charles is discharged from the hospital.

It's not until some years later, the world learns the the horrors the Nazis were doing, and my god the tattoo — that's when Charles understands what kind of person his soulmate is. He never cried so hard as that night. Raven hugs him, saying that his soulmate has to have survived, or else he'd be dead too, right? Right?

They want to search for his soulmate, but all they have is the numbers (and they'd assume it's a girl because of period typical homophobia). Besides, if they're soulmates, the universe is going to put them together, right?

And then Charles saves a random man who was going to drown trying to throw a submarine at a Nazi yacht. Their minds touch, and it's like they've known each other their wholes lives, it's beautiful.

Charles shows him his numbers and Erik shows his, and they match — because of course they do — and my god, IT'S YOU!!

Erik didn't even thought he had a soulmate, thought he was doomed to be alone, but Charles is cheering and hugging him because IT'S YOU WHO I'VE BEEN IN HELL FOR! oh my god you've been through hell OH MY GOD WE'VE BEEN THROUGH HELL!

Raven is crying in the background because she has a new brother-in-law. Erik is a bit confused in the beginning, but as soon as he realizes Charles has suffered in Shaw's hands as much as he did, he hugs him to never let go. He cries variations of ‘I'm sorry’, but Charles reassures him it was never his fault.

And they go hunt Shaw together, holding hands. And Charles doesn't protest when Erik wants to kill him with the coin. He endures holding Shaw still while Erik gets his closure, he endured so much for Erik, it's just one more thing, once and for all. It's revenge for us both.

There's no beach divorce.

They live happily ever after.

[twilightkitkat]

Everyone knows that the MCU is interconnected to set up crossovers and grand finales to arcs, right?

Imagine this: after the events of No Way Home, Peter is living alone. He has nobody who remembers him outside of his Spiderman persona, and the world has forgotten his existence. He's working a shitty job and living in a shitty apartment and is completely isolated from the world.

At the same time, Wade and Logan have started living together after saving the world. They both understand each other in ways that nobody else does. They relate to each other's pain. They begin taking jobs and missions together and learning to truly live instead of just survive.

At this moment, their character arcs moved in opposite directions. Peter went from having it all—friends, family, fame, respect—to having nothing. Meanwhile, Wade and Logan went from having nothing—Wade had lost his sense of purpose in life and girlfriend while Logan had lost the X-men and was outcasted by society—to finally having each other. They are creating their home just as Peter lost his.

But despite this, not everything is going well. Maybe Logan and Wade are struggling due to miscommunication and their insecurities. Maybe a new villain comes along and puts external stress on them. Maybe the timeline is still unstable and they need to keep doing maintenance work to restore it. The point is, there is a stressor.

It is then that their stories intersect.

Wade, who is the only current character known to break the fourth wall. Who would look at Spiderman and know that he's Peter Parker despite him being erased.

Peter, who is completely isolated in a world that has forgotten him. Who sees everything he wanted dangled in front of him each time he passes a billboard with Stark Industries or a group of friends laughing or a parent and their child. Who is desperate for any sense of belonging and feels the loneliness eating away at him.

Wade would run into him while Spiderman was on patrol. He'd be sitting on a building, staring off into the distance forlornly. He'd recognize the loneliness in him and strike up a conversation.

And Peter would nearly cry when Wade offered to buy him a sandwich. For the first time in God knows how long, he felt like someone actually cared about him behind the mask.

And so they started talking. Peter ran into Wade and they'd wave at each other and talk. Wade would get to know Peter as the person and not the hero.

And Wade would know a little too much. Would remember details a little too well. Took to him like an old buddy who he had known for years. (And really, it was the case. Deadpool and Spiderman were old friends... just not in this universe.)

And Peter would latch onto the first person who showed him kindness, even if they're loud and morally questionable and a mercenary. He finally had a friend again. Someone he could just talk to.

And then the conflict in Wade's own life spirals and reaches a head. And for one reason or another, he winds up trapped at Peter's apartment, bloodied and injured.

He'd fought with Logan earlier that day and he was too far. So he showed up at Peter's expecting to get patched up a little and let his healing factor do the work.

...Except he doesn't heal. Something was gravely wrong. He felt hot and dizzy and the wound was beginning to get infected. And Wade busted his phone in the skirmish he got into, so he couldn't communicate with anyone.

(And so he doesn't see the messages from Logan. Demanding where he was, if he was okay, apologizing for earlier and asking him to come back.)

He ends up drifting in and out of consciousness for days, barely on the edge of life. Peter is worried as hell and is trying his best to take care of him despite his tight budget. Neither could go to a hospital because of their mutant status and illegal activities.

Wade is barely conscious enough to talk, let alone tell him his emergency contacts.

And so the days pass until a week has gone by and Logan hasn't heard a word from Wade. And he's freaking the fuck out. Because even if Wade was pissed, he still came back a few hours later so they could talk it out. They never dealt well with separation, especially Logan.

He's been cornering every vaguely shady person on the streets to see if they knew where Wade was. He'd torn up villain bases near their area. Had even fucking considered putting up missing posters because of how desperate he was.

Until he finally gets a lead.

And so, when Peter hears knocking at his door, he goes to answer.

Only to get pinned against the wall by Logan, claws threatening to puncture his neck. A snarl on his lips and a feral look in his eyes, bloodthirsty and on the verge of snapping.

And Peter tries to stutter out words but it's hard when his windpipe is being crushed. This was completely unexpected.

He didn't do anything to piss someone off that badly, right? And how did someone trace his Spiderman identity back to Peter Parker when he'd been so careful?

More importantly—

A shuffling sound came from the couch in the living room.

Wade. Wade was still here.

Peter renewed his struggle, a fierce glare in his eyes. Even if nobody would miss him, he'd make sure nobody could harm his only friend.

"What time is it?" Wade mumbled roughly, sitting up and stretching his sore muscles. He still felt feverish and had a sore throat, but at least he wasn't on Death's Door anymore.

Logan's head snapped in Wade's direction like a bloodhound following a trail. He'd clearly heard him.

Without warning, he threw Peter to the side, who clutched at his throat as he was slammed against the wall.

He was going for Wade. Shit.

He knew Wade had enemies, considering he was a mercenary, but he didn't realize the type of ballpark he was playing in. And Peter knew Wade's healing factor was infinitely stronger than his own... except it wasn't working.

Was he the one responsible for Wade's vulnerable state? Did this man weaken him on purpose so he could take him out?

Peter stumbled to his feet, muscles tensing as he darted out to stop Logan, who seemed hellbent on approaching Wade. But Logan turned the corner just before he could reach him.

He saw Logan register Wade's presence, eyes locking onto him with a single-minded, piercing focus that was blinding in its intensity.

"Hey!" he tried calling out, but Logan wasn't paying attention. Didn't seem to be aware of his surroundings, only looking at Wade with an indescribable mixture of emotions. There were the obvious emotions like anger, but if Peter didn't know any better he'd say the man was looking at Wade with something akin to pure relief, awe, and fear.

Wade glanced over at the man and his eyes widened. "Logan...? Honey badger, you came for me?" His voice was sleep-heavy and the words came out choked.

Wade had been calling the name 'Logan' in his sleep almost every night. When Peter would try to quiet him by brushing his sweat-stuck hair away from his forehead, Wade would latch onto his wrist and wouldn't let go until he cracked open his eyes and saw it wasn't who he wanted.

Peter wanted to ask who Logan was. Who was so important to him that he kept whispering his name when he tossed and turned at night, that he mistook Peter for him and looked disappointed when he realized it was just him (and ouch, sometimes that stung).

But he'd assumed it was someone from Wade's past. Like MJ was to him. Someone important but long gone.

And so when Wade called this man Logan, Peter thought it was him mistaking someone for Logan in a sickness-induced delirium. It wouldn't be the first time.

But Logan stared at him, fists still clenched where his claws protruded through his knuckles. He looked at Wade, searchingly, like his face had the answers to his questions.

And once Wade uttered that name, he launched himself at Wade.

Peter cried out as he tried to catch Logan to stop him from hurting or killing Wade, but he was so much faster than him. He'd crossed the room in the blink of an eye.

Peter looked up, terrified, to see a completely unexpected sight.

The man was clinging to Wade, clutching at him like his life depended on it, shivers wracking his body. And Wade clung to him tighter, threading his fingers through his hair, murmuring softly.

...Huh?

[alchemistc]

Give me a two episode disaster arc where Tommy and Bobby are stuck somewhere awaiting rescue, tbh.

Give me Tommy with a big ole bump on his noggin and Bobby trying to keep him awake. Tommy admitting he's pissed at Bobby because he left his family and they got Gerrard out of it and he can feel that casually cruel attitude creeping back under his skin every time he hears a story about the shit Gerrard puts the team through. Tommy telling Bobby that when he pulled him into the office that day and silently slid the recertification paperwork for piloting across the desk, something had rattled loose in Tommy and he'd realized that the better person he was trying to to be wasn't going to be the best version of himself until he made a change and stopped letting the ghosts of his father and his superior officers and his captain haunt him.

Tommy reminding him that Bobby means the world to the 118, that they'd flown into a hurricane to find and save him, that for all that Tommy hadn't worked with him for long he'd always had Tommy's respect, but now Tommy is grateful for him, because Buck and Eddie and Chim and Hen have had him. Because he'd fostered a group that has pulled him into their ranks without question.

Give me Bobby panicking a bit when Tommy loses consciousness, because he's pinned and too far away to actually wake Tommy back up. Give me Bobby talking to him anyway, admitting that he's scared, that he's pretty sure his team has grown past him, that he's not needed anymore and he doesn't know where to go from there. He'd thrown out his book and thrown in with his team and now he's not sure what his purpose is when they don't need him anymore.

Give me Bobby getting frustrated and ANNOYED and yelling at Tommy to wake the fuck up and help him get them both the hell out of there.

Give me just the slightest hint of Bobby saying some Out Of Pocket Shit about how gone on Tommy Buck is and only finding out a week later that Tommy had heard that bit.

Gimme Buck on the outside, worried as shit but solid because it's Bobby and Tommy, and they've got each other, Buck knows it.

[magicalqueennightmare]

Talk to Me

Daryl Dixon x Reader

After the prison falls you're on your own, until you find Daryl with a group. When things happen he carries the guilt for it all until you find the safety of Alexandria and force a confrontation

Warnings: talk of violence, cursing, forced sexual acts? The claimers were sickos(italics are flashbacks)

Same verse as Back Me so Reader was Shane's adopted sister

The day the prison fell was chaos. A blur of fighting, both humans and walkers. When you realized it was useless you'd heard yelling over the commotion. Maggie's voice was screaming for evacuation, Sasha too but you couldn't find anyone. You found an opening in the mass of walkers and ran, praying you'd find them on the other side as you sliced through the dead.

So much had happened since that day. If you stopped and let yourself ever actually think about it you were afraid you'd sink down into that hole and never find your way out. First it was Terminus, then Gabriel's church then the storm in the barn. The day Aaron had approached with photos and a story of a town that was guarded by a wall and willing for new residents all of you had rightfully been hesitant but now? You'd settled. It was slowly becoming home, you just wished things between you and Daryl could ever be fixed.

You sat on the porch of the home most of you were still sharing. Aaron had been adamant about the fact that there was plenty of room for you to spread out and you were slowly doing such but the group was tight-knit and felt better being closer. Maggie and Glenn had taken the house directly across the street, Rosita and Abraham were next door while you were planning to eventually move in with Carol and whoever else joined the two of you in the house she'd taken when offered.

You would've asked Rick if you could stayed with him, Michonne and the kids but that would also take explaining just why you felt uncomfortable moving into one of the other houses. You didn't want to see that look in Rick's eyes or to pull him into whatever was going on between you and Daryl. They were best friends, Rick claimed you as a little sister especially after Shane's death. It wouldn't have been fair to Rick.

You leaned your head back against the banister of the porch, fiddling with one of the arrows from your bow and watching a few residents of Alexandria. Poor bastards, the look on their faces the first time they'd gotten a look at your group had damn near been comical.

------------------

"Stay close and stay alert" Rick warned in a low voice, his eyes connecting with yours then Daryl's then Michonne's. Each of you gave a sharp nod. When the gate rolled open your group tightened up to walk in together. Your shoudler brushed against Rosita's on one side and Glenn's on the other. Ok maybe not that close. All of you adjusted slightly to give each other enough room to pull weapons if need be.

Aaron was leading your group in, looking part tour guide and part ring leader. A crowd quickly gathered, gawking like all of you were some sort of side show freaks. It hit you how normal this place looked. Untouched. You looked around at your friends, your family. Blood and mud caked most of you. Rick's beard was thick enough to hide a damn family of squirrels in, all of the women in your group save for michonne and Carol looked like you'd never heard of a brush and Daryl looked like he was nothing short of feral. You wanted to hate this community, for not being put through the hell all of you had, for not facing the shit storm outside this gate but you pitied them. How could they have survived this long? What would happen if the gate failed? If a walker got in? If another group attacked? Your people didn't need them, they needed you.

-------------------

"Walsh!" You were broke out of your own thoughts by Abraham's deep voice calling you. You jerked up and shot him a glare "That's a good way to catch an arrow Ford" he grinned and nodded to the bow sitting next to you "Might be if that thing was in your hand"

You rolled your eyes but could help a small smile before adding the arrow you'd been fiddling with to your bow and standing "What do you want anyways?" "You seen Rosita?" He asked and you nodded "bout an hour ago. She was headed to med with Tara. Why?"

He shrugged "Just wondering" he started to walk away but stopped and looked back "you alright kid? You looked a little out of it" you nodded "Yeah I'm good. This whole having time to catch your breath is new and taking some getting used to" his laughter echoed down the street "I hear ya on that. I'll catch you later" you watched him walk off and shook your head. If Abraham was starting to notice you needed to do something different. He barely knew you like that. It wouldn't be long before someone else said something.

"So what's the deal with you and her?" Carol's voice came from behind Daryl. He glanced over his shoulder to see her walking up to him. He was hoping hiding out on the outskirts of Alexandria meant fewer people but of course Carol would manage to sniff him out.

"Me and who?" He knew who the hell she meant, he wasn't that much of a dumbass but he wasn't gonna admit it. He couldn't face you, not after what had happened. She rolled her eyes "You and Miss America. Y/N. Who else! You and her have been damn near inseparable since the camp at the quarry then the prison falls and we all find each other again and I've yet to hear a word get passed between the two of you except for on your right or look out"

He shrugged, going back to working on the pile of arrows in his hand "We ain't gotta talk every day. We're here now. She's safe, ain't she?"

-------------

Carol knew him better than that, she knew when something was wrong. She sat down next to him "What happened out there? Before you and her found Rick and Michonne?" She watched him as she asked the question and saw his gaze flick from the arrows to her then down to the dirt underneath his boots "Nothing"

-------------

Daryl had joined the claimers just to have better chances of finding some of the group, a better chance against the dead. They were following the railroad tracks, supposedly going after some guy they had issue with that had killed one of their people. He didn't really care. He kept moving in hopes to find a trace of someone, anyone.

He'd been at the back of the group when he heard one of them let out a low whistle "Well look what we got here boys" then he felt his blood boil when he heard your voice, trying so damn hard to hold steady but he could hear the trace of fear in it "Let me go you son of a bitch before I fucking gut you"

-------------

"That look tells me something happened" Carol pushed and he shook his head "Nothing happened" she sighed "Ok but if something did and you need to talk or need help talking to her, I'm around" he muttered a thanks as she stood and walked away.

What was he supposed to say to you? He fucking missed you. You were the first person that had ever really had his back, to not judge him. He'd been there for you through Shane and you were there for him through Merle but now he didn't know if you could forgive him and even if you could, did he deserve it?

He stood up and grabbed the arrows and his bow. He needed to get out the walls for a while, get some air without everyone around. He'd go tell Rick he was gonna go hunting. That way he was helping at the same time and not just running.

"I'm not comfortable with you going out alone" Rick told you and you were trying desperately to not sound like a teenager begging to go out on a Saturday night and failing. There was only a couple years difference between you and Rick but now? It very much felt like when you were a teenager and him and Shane would happen to "Show up" wherever you were at.

You glanced over at Michonne who was watching the two of you with a hint of amusement. "Help?" She shook her head "No way. You're practically brother and sister. Not my job to intervene"

You rolled your eyes then turned back to Rick "I survived on my own after the prison fell before I found Daryl, do you really think I can't handle the woods around here? How long did Michonne survive alone? How long did Carol when you banished her from the prison? C'mon Rick, please?"

He tilted his head slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Fine. Find someone to go with for my sake. I know you're capable but if you get a deer you can't carry it back on your own, can you?" You nodded "Thank you!" You grinned at Michonne and stooped to plant a kiss on Judith's head before rushing out the door.

You walked towards the gate and spotted Glenn on the guard tower and waved. "You heading out?" You nodded "Rick cleared it. He said I could go hunt" Glenn looked sceptical "On your own?"

Of course Rick didn't say you could go on your own but you hadn't found anyone to go with you. Carl was spending time with Enid, Maggie wasn't in the shape, you couldn't find Abraham and you were sure if Rosita or Tara was up to go hunting and Sasha had night guard duty so she was sleeping.

-------------

Before you could open your mouth to respond you heard Rick's voice behind you "Wait up" you turned on your heel to see Rick and Daryl walking towards you and Glenn. Daryl wouldn't make eye contact with you but you'd gotten used to that.

"Yeah?" You asked Rick so he motioned to Daryl "Carol said you struck out on everyone you asked to go with you and Daryl was headed out anyway. You two have always worked good together so I figured that solves both problems"

You weren't going to get into this now, not with Rick and Glenn here and not in broad daylight with anyone else nearby as an audience so you just cut your eyes at Daryl "Good with you Dixon?" He nodded "Fine by me" you looked back at Rick "Wish us luck. Hopefully we'll come back dragging a deer or two"

Rick smiled and patted your shoulder then looked at Daryl "Stay safe and keep her safe" "Yeah man, always" Daryl muttered as the gate slid open and you quickly walked out forcing him to half jog to catch up with you before you reached the patch of woods just outside the gates that would lead the two of you deeper into the surrounding area and hopefully onto some tracks so silence would be forced.

-------------

Yours and Daryl's footsteps were near silent as you moved in tandem through the woods. The last few years of hunting side by side had built a routine and familiarity that even the recently acquired distance between the two of you couldn't change.

You could feel his eyes on you every now and then but chose to ignore it. He hadn't wanted to come out here with you any more than you'd wanted to come out here with him. You had an idea that Carol had masterminded the whole thing in an attempt to force you two to be in the same area for more than a few minutes.

A twig cracking made both of you spin around, bows raised only to be met with one stray walker stumbling through the bush. You groaned in frustration, hoping it'd been a deer for a quick hunt as Daryl shot it. He cut his eyes at you "you good?" You half laughed "Be better if we found a damn deer for some meat"

He nodded before snatching his arrow out the walker and cleaning it off on the bandana he had in his hip pocket "Takes longer than thirty minutes" you knew that but you could feel how tense he was every time he looked at you. You rotated your neck in a tight circle then motioned to the woods in front of you "Well we're wasting daylight. Let's get on it"

You and Daryl hadn't traded more than five words past that but you did get two does. Daryl carried the heaviest of the two back so you heaved the lightest across your shoulders and followed his careful footsteps back the way you'd came. The pace you were going you should manage to be able to get back and dress the deer before the sun set good.

You could see the walls of Alexandria just up ahead and laughed when you heard Abraham's voice boom out "Well look what the cat dragged in. Dixon and Walsh done got us some Venison" you shook your head and followed Daryl into the gate. The two of you headed for the back of the food storage area where it'd been set up to strip animals after hunting trips.

--------------

Daryl barely glanced at you as the two of you worked to dress the deer, separating the meat. The skin and even some of the bones could be used as well. You were focusing on your task at hand, wiping the sweat off your forehead with your arm to avoid smearing blood on yourself.

You'd gotten pretty good at all this. He could remember when he'd had to teach you where to cut and how to pull the skin off to not ruin it. You cut your eyes up at him and smiled slightly but that was all it took for that flood of guilt to wash over him.

---------

Daryl felt his heart drop when he saw one of the claimers, Kilan with his hand buried in your hair, the barrel of his gun digging into your temple. You were still fighting, that was something he'd always loved about you. You refused to roll over and die.

You'd hadn't seen him yet but he knew these assholes rules so before anyone could speak he made sure his voice carried over them all "She's claimed" every one of the claimers eyes turned towards him and he saw the moment his voice hit your ears because your shoulders released just a little.

Joe nodded to Kilan and he released you causing you to stumble. The group stepped back and you practically dove into his arms. "Daryl! You're alive!" He'd never had anyone so damn happy to see him still breathing. He held you close to his chest "I'm alright darlin. Are you ok?" You nodded, glancing back at Kilan "Except for losing a handful of hair to the asshole over there"

Kilan took a step towards you but Joe stopped him with a hand on his chest before smiling wickedly "Well damn Dixon, introduce us" you turned to face the claimers, tucking yourself as close as you could to his side without inhibiting a draw of his bow. "Leave her be man" Joe tsk tsked "If she's claimed then claim her" Daryl felt his stomach drop at the look in Joe's eyes. Every claimer's hand inched toward their weapon. The two of you were outmanned and outgunned.

He shook his head before clearing his throat "I got this Y/N. Why don't you go shower?" You glanced up from the deer you'd just finished dressing "I'm damn near done" he shrugged "Yeah but I can finish up" you stared at him for a second before slowly nodding "Ok"

You wiped your hands on your pants then held out your knife "Sharpen this, please?" He nodded "yeah" and took it, careful to not touch your skin.

You found yourself on the porch of Carol's house. It was late so you didn't want to risk waking Judith by going to Rick's. After you'd showered you came out to Carl giving you your knife and saying Daryl had tasked him with returning it.

Even when everyone had eaten together he'd put Abraham, Rosita, Sasha and Glenn between the two of you. You didn't want to wake Carol if she was asleep so you just sat down close to the door and leaned back against the house. The night air had a slight chill but the jacket you now had was plenty of enough to block from the chill.

Rosita had braided your hair for you so that wasn't even a bother. You closed your eyes, listening to the sounds of the night until the door clicked and you opened them to see Carol looking down at you "Wanna come in?" She asked and you shook your head. She nodded "in that case, let me get you some tea and I'll come out"

--------------

You sat on the steps, looking up at the stars and sipping whatever tea concoction Carol had brewed up. It was pretty good,had a slight honey and vanilla taste. She'd also insisted on you wrapping a blanket around your shoulders.

After a few minutes she bumped your knee lightly "He won't talk to me, do you want to? Or need to?" You let out a breath that shook on the end "A lot happened Carol. A lot of bad shit"

She slipped an arm around your shoulders and whispered "You didn't judge me for Lizzie sweetheart. I'm not judging for anything but I love you and I love Daryl. You two care about each other so much, you have for so long and it hurts seeing the distance between you two"

You took a deep breath then nodded "Did Rick ever tell you about the claimers?" "The ones who attacked him, Michonne and Carl?" She asked and you nodded. You went silent for a few breaths so she turned to look at you "Honey. What happened?" You could feel tears working to break free "I was alone after the prison. I was running from a herd, trying to stay ahead of it. I fell and wasn't paying attention, I should've been paying attention.."

"Don't" she warned lightly and you gave her a watery smile before continuing "some guy grabbed me by the hair, shoved a gun in my face and announced well look what we got here boys" she connected the dots fairly easily "The claimers" her voice was low and you nodded "Daryl was with them. He spoke first said I was claimed?"

She gave you a questioning look so you shrugged "It was their rules. If one of them claimed something that was supposed to be the end of it but their leader Joe was bored apparently..." she squeezed your hand "you don't have to tell me if you aren't comfortable" you turned to face her "I can't keep it in my head any longer Carol" she nodded "Ok. I understand then"

You took another deep breath "He told Daryl to introduce me. Daryl asked him to just leave me be and I guess that pissed him off because then he told Daryl if I was claimed to claim me"

---------------

You hadn't realized you were crying until Carol pulled you over onto her "What did they do to you two?" She asked but you just shook your head. "I had to cross lines with her I never would've. Lines she'd never gave me permission to cross and lines that if we ever would've crossed shouldn't have been with eyes and guns on us" you heard and pulled back from Carol to see Daryl standing there, watching you with a worried expression.

Carol looked from you to him "Do you two want me here for this or do you need to do this alone?" You wiped your eyes and swallowed hard before finding your voice "Alone" she smiled and rubbed your arm "I'll be inside if you need me" she stood and patted Daryl's arm before heading inside.

"I'm sorry" he sounded so damn broken. "Daryl, you're not to blame" you'd wanted to tell him this for so long but the same day they'd found you they'd found Rick and Michonne. You and him were planning to leave but had to stay because a feeling had told you those sick fucks were after Rick.

-------------

You stood up and he took a step back to give room between the two of you. You crossed your arms, suddenly feeling a lot colder than the night "They didn't make you do everything at least" you wanted to offer comfort but his face twisted in disgust "They made me do enough. I should've fought them. I never should've been with them. I should've..." you cut him off "Yeah and if you would've fought them and they would've killed you? Then it would've them holding me down and taking turns on me!" You felt tears slid down your face as you faced him, weeks of frustration spilling over.

"I should've kept you safe" his voice was just above a whisper. "You did everything you could to keep me safe Daryl. Joe had a gun to your head. It was your lips on mine or his. Your hands on my breasts or his. Even then you shielded my body from their view as much as you could and I nodded that it was ok because that was how we could stay alive"

He shook his head "I still touched you without you wanting me like that. You should hate me. You got every right to" you reached out for his hand and he flinched slightly but didn't move away "Listen to me Daryl. I don't hate you, nor do i blame me. You kept me alive and you kept me out their hands. We saved Carl from getting raped by them. We killed them. You're just as much a victim as I am but I need you back. I've had you at my side for too long. I can't do this damn thing without you"

"I'd never hurt you for nothing" he spoke and it broke your heart hearing his voice crack. You nodded "I know Daryl" you used his hand you were still holding to pull him towards you and instead of resisting he let you pull him into a hug, fitting himself around you.

You buried your face in his chest, letting the emotions you'd been burying since the fall of the prison hit you fully. You felt moisture hitting your head and realized Daryl was crying but didn't say anything, he needed to get it out too.

After a while the two of you pulled back and you smiled up at him "I missed you" he half laughed "I missed you sweetheart"

"How did you manage that?" Rick asked Carol as the two of them watched you and Daryl walking towards the gate, bows thrown over your shoulders talking and laughing.

"They just needed a little help finding their way past the bad shit back to each other" she replied with a smile.

[momo-minomo]

Fic Fairy Friday: Tim and Jason Brotherhood

I love Jason and Tim, they're hands down the most chaotic and petty people in their entire family. I wish they'd be teamed up more often in the comics because every time they do the snark and sass is everywhere!

Unfortunately the Batfam fandom has developed a lot of misconceptions about their past and relationship. The main misconceptions are thinking Jason hates Tim and what happened during their fight in Titan's Tower. Fandom thinks Jason came there to murder his replacement and Tim was ruthlessly beaten down and begged for his hero to stop. In reality, Jason had grown to hate the very idea of Robin (a child soldier fighting and dying for Batman's neverending war) and came to Titan's Tower to convince Tim to quit as well as to prove to himself that Tim wasn't better than him and that Bruce didn't just trade up for a better Robin when Jason died. When talking didn't work he decided that to save this kid's life (and prove to himself that he wasn't just an inferior failure) he was going to MAKE him quit.

But if Batman, Alfred, and Lady Shiva can't control Tim Drake Jason didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell so Tim put up a hell of a fight and even when he was bleeding on the floor, barely conscious but always happy to be petty and go for the low blow, he went out hitting Jason where it hurt by defiantly stating that even beaten and bloody he is STILL better than Jason. They've long since patched things up between them, tho, and more than once in the comics Jason has made it clear that Tim is his most trusted brother. There was even that period just before Tim became RR where Jason was trying to recruit Tim to be HIS Robin so Jason could be gun!Batman and Tim was so annoyed and done with him lol. I do still enjoy the accidental brother or woobie Tim fics and will probably link a few exceptional ones here and there but I'd love to see more fics with the two being equals that trust and rely on each other, too.

The Fic Fairy Friday Masterpost

This Dark Ceiling Without a Star by Miss_Lazy_Tuesday

Summary:

“For fuck’s sake, your chatter is going to drive me crazy faster than this stupid spell.” “Then you talk!” “There’s no point!” Jason snaps. “I can feel it, okay. It’s—there’s no emotion behind it, it’s not using my thoughts. It’s just a bunch of weird Greek echoing in my brain and a compulsion to act. And it’s getting stronger. Talking isn’t going to slow it down.” “Then what will slow it down?” After five long seconds of silence, Tim gives into the urge and viciously jabs his fist into Jason’s leg for the second time. “Goddammit, why?” Jason snaps, green briefly sparking in his eyes before disappearing just as quickly. “You are not seriously going to just sit there and wait to die.” “The hell do you care anyway?” “Because I don’t want you to die! Obviously!” “You fucking should.”

Momo's Notes: These boys need SO MUCH THERAPY! Tim and Jason are trapped underneath a collapsed building, Tim is slowly bleeding out, and Jason has been cursed to sacrifice himself to help power up a spell. So of course being robins they're going to remain calm, work together, and not spend their precious little oxygen arguing, right? Right? Oh goddammit boys!

Life in the Fast Lane by TheResurrectionist

Summary:

“So, let me get this straight,” Dick said, frowning, “You stole a car, kidnapped Tim, got in a high-speed chase, stole another car, fought a bunch of cartel members, and blew up a chop shop...all to get a minivan back?” “First of all, Timothy was a willing participant,” Jason said, crossing his arms, “And when you put it like that, it sounds bad.” “Jason, it sounds bad no matter how I put it!”

Momo's Notes: It's both refreshing and incredibly funny to see Tim and Jason just being normal brothers that annoy the shit out of each other while they're stealing cars and trying to take down asshole gangs out of costume. This entire fic is just chaotic shenanigans and It's so fun.

Good Fellows by thatcuriouscat

Summary:

After rescuing Bruce from floating around the past, Tim is Not Okay. What comes next after losing everything that really matters? Tim’s got some thoughts. So do the rest of the family. And Ra’s al Ghul. …And the Joker. Jason looks murderous. “God DAMN it, Tim, this was not the situation I had in mind when I generously taught you how to be a younger brother out of the kindness of my heart!” Even more shocked by this, Dick asks incredulously, “You, Jason Todd-Wayne, tried to give younger brother lessons? Where did you even get the audacity?” Jason rounds on him hotly. “Bitch, you wish you knew how to be a younger brother!” “FOCUS,” Tim demands. “We’ve got like, an hour to pull this off.”

Momo's Notes: I know I recommended this one for the Dick and Tim brotherhood recs but this story revolves around the three oldest batbrothers and has equally good characterization and interactions for Jason as it did with Dick. Jason's pov pages are some of the most witty and fun in the whole story and the brotherhood that forms between Tim and Jason over the course of this fic is unique.

The Right Substitution is Key by AddictedApple

Summary:

“The Red Hood has been good for Gotham,” Robin continued. “Crime in Park Row decreased by sixty one percent almost as soon as you showed up, and that’s even taking into account all the crime you commit. Drug overdoses have decreased by twenty two percent in adults and seventy nine percent in minors. Homeless minors are ninety two percent less likely to—” “Kid,” Jason interrupted. “Enough statistics. What the hell is this about?” Robin slowly lowered the tablet with his powerpoint presentation and looked up at Red Hood. “You care about Gotham,” Robin summarized. “Gotham needs Batman. Batman is missing and so is Nightwing. We need you to fill in for Batman.” “You want me to cover Batman’s patrols?” Jason clarified. “No,” Robin said. “I want you to be Batman.” Jason bluescreened. (Or: Batman and Nightwing mysteriously disappear before Red Hood has even started antagonizing them, Robin is desperate, Gotham needs Batman, and Red Hood is Batman-Shaped.)

Momo's Notes: An AU where Jason calmed the hell down before returning to Gotham, both Batman and Nightwing go missing, and Tim doesn't know who this new Red Hood guy is but statistics don't lie, he's making a positive difference in Gotham. That makes him the PERFECT candidate to take over as Batman until they can find him. Jason can't believe ANY of these idiots survived while he was "gone"

a kidnapping a day (keeps the board of directors away) by doingthewritethings

Summary:

And, well. He gets impatient when he’s already in pain. He’s still got fifteen minutes until the meeting is set to begin, and the chances of him slapping Mr. Smith-Harguson so hard that the man’s toupee flies off are rising exponentially by the second. Yeah, that settles it. He needs an excuse to get out of here, and he needs it fast. - for the prompt 'jason todd, lover of fake kidnappings, meets tim drake, lover of chaos', but it... got out of hand. happy pride

Momo's Notes: There are no words for how much I love Batfamily shenanigans and Tim and Jason are always the perfect combo for said chaotic shenanigans! Basically Tim and Jason's version of brotherly bonding is to stage fake kidnappings to get Tim out of whatever soul-sucking responsibility he desperately wants to escape from today starting with a board meeting on a day the chronic pain is especially horrific. This fic also has queer and trans batfam which makes it just chef's kiss

Little Red and the Big Bad Hood by CrzyFun

Summary:

Olivia Draper had been a good idea at first. She could pass for older than Tim could pull off while masculine and women really could get into places easier if they had a pretty face. With makeup and some stylish-yet-inexpensive clothes, Olivia could pull off most undercover ops. She was Tim’s Matches Malone. Then Hood had shown up on the scene. When Jason met Olivia, he hadn't intended to pull a Bruce and take the scrappy teen informant under his wing. She just kept showing up where he was doing business. He had no other choice than to keep an eye on her. And kit her out with armor so she wouldn't accidentally get shot. And make sure she was being treated fairly by her mysterious boss. And, okay, maybe become her big brother.

Momo's Notes: I love a good fic with a genderfluid Tim Drake! This is an au where Tim decided his main alternate ID to gather info would be Olivia Draper rather than Alvin. Cue Red Hood getting very annoyed at the obviously underaged girl sneaking into clubs full of dangerous gangsters. This one is a fun accidental enemy to caretaker with a chaotic and sassy Tim that knows he can get on Hood's every nerve with zero consequences with bonus outraged and annoyed Stephanie!

Last Laugh, First Steps by CloakedSparrow

Summary:

Running a large portion of the Gotham underground as a benevolent crime lord was harder than Jason thought it would be, but still well within the range of what he could handle. All in all, it wasn’t that different from being the type of vigilante Bruce had trained him to be become. He was feeling like he was doing a decent job as part of the Bat Family these days. The Wayne family, he wasn't so sure about. Until he receives an unexpected call from Dick while on patrol one night and the words he hears next change everything. Tim's hurt...the Joker's involved. B and Little D are out of town. Cass is here with me and it’ll take us too long t- “Where?” His death. His anger. His father. His role as a brother, as a son, as a grandson. Jason decides its time to take it all on. If he's going to help his little brother recover, then he's going to have to heal himself as well.

Momo's Notes: This is technically part 42 of a series kind of generically called "Collected Bat-Family Stories" that are actually all set in the same AU. Last Laugh is an amazing entry in the series that can be read as a stand alone fic but I'd honestly recommend going into the series page and starting from the beginning. There are fics in there that aren't Tim or Jason-centric but it's all part of one narrative and Tim and Jason are really the main characters of the whole series and it's so fun to watch their brotherhood grow and deepen. If you're a fan of Wayne Family Adventures I think you'll love this one since the characterizations are very similar imho (aside from Damian but he's slowly growing as a person over the story and will eventually get there).

middle children must unionize by Poteto

Summary: Jason realizes no one is taking care of Tim - not even Tim himself. He decides to do something about it.

Momo's Notes: Jason doesn't like how things went down between Tim and Dick when their big brother gave Robin to Damian and decides if no one else is gonna take care of the 16 year old like the kid he is and not the adult they expect him to be then he'll just have to step up and do it himself.

Playlists:

[secretly-tword-obsessed]

The Forbidden Topic

Hey gigglers!

This fic was requested by @ryoko-loves-roses who wanted lee Frontman and lee salesman. So I wrote for both of their ticklish asses!

Summary: The Frontman has some time off with his favorite employee. Unfortunately for him, a rather sensitive topic is raised.

Warning - their are discussions of Frontman x 456 in this

Warning - This is a TICKLE FIC

The Recruiter and his boss, Hwang In-Ho, were having a smoke outside a coffee shop. It was late at night and a rather deserted neighborhood, so they could talk shop without the fear of being heard.

They chatted about everything - from which players they thought would stay and leave after the first round, to which were the best at Dakji (the Recruiter had a lot of fun telling those stories), to joking about previous winners.

"Speaking of previous winners", the Salesman said, his usual stoic demeanor at the forefront, "I heard a rumor that you put player 456 back in the games".

In-Ho smirked, "Oh, I did yes. The idiot wanted to go back in. Apparently the guards found a tracker in his tooth - what a juvenile plan".

The Salesman chuckled, his white teeth gleaming, enjoying bonding over Gi-Hun's misfortune.

"I'll enjoy watching him this year", In-Ho continued, "Let's see what he does. Hell, he might even try to stage a coup".

The Salesman's smirk turned cheeky, "Yeah, you'll be keeping a close eye on him alright".

In-Ho growled. "What's that supposed to mean?", he asked, turning around to directly face his employee. Oh, he knew exactly what The Recruiter was alluding to, but he wouldn't admit it to save his life.

"Oh come on", The Recruiter said. He didn't say it in a playful way - he said it in his regular, relaxed tone - which had a hint of mischief at In-Ho's unfortunate expense.

"I'm talking about your obvious....crush on 456", he said slyly. This made the Frontman's face go red with furry, and perhaps a bit of embarassment.

"Okay, shut up right now or your fired", he groaned, trying to look as stern as he could. In his defense, it was hard to look stern when you were being teased about someone you were....interested in.

The Recruiter, knowing it was an empty threat, continued, "Is that why you've also decided to join the games as a player this year? You think you have a shot with the guy?"

Okay, that was it. The Recruiter had gone too far. He grabbed his shoulders, pushing him into the brick wall, his eyes bulging. Of course, the Recruiter maintained his calm demeaner, just smirking despite his situation.

He knew that In-Ho wouldn't actually attack him. They'd been friends before In-Ho had hired him, and there were times when they acted, let's just say, unprofessionally with each other. If their work wasn't so brutal, they could even have been referred to as 'best buddies'.

They stood like that for a few seconds - In-Ho pinning the Recruiter against the wall, breathing heavily, looking like he would strike at any second. The younger man decided to put his hands up in mock surrender, just to aggravate his boss even further.

Suddenly, a dark smile crept onto the Frontman's lips. The Recruiter, a little confused but not not showing it, asked - "What is it?"

"Ohh, nothing", In-Ho said with a sigh. The evil undertone of his voice did make the Recruiter, although he would never admit it, a little worried.

"It's just that, well, you've' lifted up your arms so....you've' pretty much decided my method of retaliation for me".

Before the Recruiter could respond, he felt ten digits digging into his sides, causing him to collapse forward with a whine. In-Ho chuckled as he stabilized the man, keeping him pinned so that he had proper access to that oh-so-sensitive torso.

"Nohohoho!", the man gasped - his normally cocky self completely thrown out the window by his ticklish nature.

"You deserve this", In-Ho continued, scratching at his sides more gently and slowly, before speeding up again - taking delight in the way his victim's laughter got louder and softer, up pitches and down pitches, depending on the exact movements of his attacker's fingers.

"Fuhuhuhuck yohohohou!", he laughed, thrashing to the side, trying to use his chest muscles to knock off the offending hands.

"Hey", In-Ho said innocently, "No need to use that language with me. That's hardly professional".

In-Ho's grin grew wider as he began to poke at his employee's ribs experimentally. The man gasped, before his laughter went squeaky and he began to flail his arms uselessly.

"Ooo, there it is!", In-Ho remarked with an accomplished smile, "There's that spot that always gets you".

The Recruiter was giggling and squealing to much to respond.

"You know", In-Ho added, beginning to have a bit too much fun watching this normally stoic man dissolve under his fingers , "It's quite dangerous to be this ticklish in a job like yours. What if the potential contestants use it against you, hmm?"

The Frontman's victim continued to laugh and thrash, those squeaks being so high pitched that they could have deafened a cat.

"I mean, couldn't they just get really fed up with you when they keep losing. What if they decide to smack you back, only to than realize that..."

In-Ho stopped, pausing his fingers. The Recruiter began to catch his breath, but before he could speak, he was interrupted.

"What if they realized that doing this would be much more effective?"

Before he could protest, In-Ho started squeezing the Recruiter's belly, making him scream.

"Wow, you lucky nobody's around. They'd think I was slaughtering a wild animal."

"NAHAHAHA - HAHHA - NOHOHO!", the Recruiter cried, flailing more desperately.

"Now do you regret that stupid little remark?", the Front man prompted, digging one of his hands around the man's navel, making him squeal before he continued to toss and turn.

"IHIHIHIHI - IHIHIHI..."

"Aww, are you too ticklish to respond?", In-Ho teased, his grin both wicked and sincere, "How adorable little buddy".

This went on for a few more seconds, before In-Ho could see tears streaming down the younger man's cheeks. Satisfied, the Frontman let up, stepping back and giving the Recruiter space to breathe.

The released man smashed his hand to his heart, breathing heavily, giggles still slipping from his lips.

"Hohoholly shit".

"You deserved that", In-Ho quickly responded.

"Yeheah, well, you deserve this!"

In an instant, the Recruiter had grabbed In-Ho's shoulders, turned him around and pinned him against that brick wall.

"Now", he said evilly, his smug smirk returning as he watched In-Ho's mild panic at realizing he was completely trapped, "Let's see if you can take what you dish out, hmm?"

The Recruiter raised his eyebrows as he started poking his right hand up and down Inho's side, and using his left hand to squeeze at that knee. The man snorted, before letting out a stream of cackles.

"Nohohoho!", he whined, his legs sinking but the Recruiter holding him up in place.

"What was that? No?", the Recruiter teased, taking the hand that was on his side and drilling a finger into the side of In-Ho's belly.

"Nahahaha! Quit ihihihit!"

"Wow", the Recruiter said, "You ticklish bastard. You have the audacity to ask me to stop?"

The assaulting fingers wiggled faster, moving to attack under their victim's arms. In-Ho let out another loud snort before his laughter became louder and his squirms more desperate.

"Okahahy! Okahahahy! Stahahawp!"

The Recruiter smiled to himself. Sure, his boss wasn't as ticklish as he was, but he was still pretty damn sensitive, and it gave him an excessive sense of satisfaction to get this revenge.

"Oooo, what if I told Mr 456 about this little weakness, hmm?", the Recruiter teased, knowing that there was nothing the Frontman could do to fight back.

In-Ho's cheeks went darker, his eyes flashing with a tint of anger that was completely undermined by his laughter "Shuhuhuhuhut uhuhuhuup!"

The recruiter chuckled again, "Your really in no position to be telling me to do anything. Wouldn't it be funny if that guy somehow found out that you can be taken down by a few fingers under your arms? Wouldn't that be cute. He would tickle you all night - you would keep up the other players with your laughter".

In-Ho was too flustered to respond. The Recruiter's idea sounded....nice...but no. He had a job to do.

Finally, the Recruiter ceased his attack, though he kept his victim pinned to the wall.

As the front man huffed and puffed, the Recruiter raised an eyebrow, making that expression he always did when he was challenging someone to a game.

"I'll only let you go if you swear not to get me back. Deal?"

In-Ho, completely resigned, let out a sigh "Okay, deal".

Man, what would Gi-Hun do if he found out?

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! We never see these two together in the show so this is just how I'd imagine their dynamic is lol. Feel free to give feedback - my back is starving

[jelloapocalypse]

I admittedly haven't watched your stream playthrough of TGAA games, mostly because I was playing through them with my fiancé very slowly, but we just finished them and I was curious what your opinion on them was? My fiancé and I enjoyed them but we both felt like they were pretty... Tame, compared to mainline AA. Like, there wasn't really any insane twists that shook the characters to their cores, everything wrapped up so neatly for everyone, it felt too easy, in a way? Also the big bad was wayyyyy too predictable.

I'd recommend checking out these amazing animatics that Infamouslydorky did of our playthrough!

My feelings re: The Great Ace Attorney games are sort of complicated, so this answer's going to be kind of long. I'll keep it spoiler-free, though.

I think they have the best main cast of any AA game. The music, character designs, and quality of life are basically the best they've ever been. That's really cool. I really love a lot of the one-off characters too. Enoch Drebber, Pat and Rollie, and the little plague mask coroner girl are huge stand-outs for me.

However, I think Shu Takumi has a lot of... foibles as a writer, and the way they manifest in these games is more evident and more obnoxious than basically anything else he's ever made.

I've played every game he's ever made and I can tell you that Shu Takumi writes the mysteries and twists in his stories first before anything else. I think he has a great sense of when he wants the twists to hit for the audience and he's great at figuring out where a twist will hit in a case... but he's remarkably bad at making character motivations match up to the story he's trying to tell.

In particular, he's awful at giving characters reasons not to tell each other things. 90% of a time your protagonist in a Shu Takumi game will ask a completely reasonable question to an ally, and the ally will avoid answering simply because it's not time for the player to know the answer yet. This is an issue in every game he's ever made. Even his best game Ghost Tric, is plagued by this. i.e. The way Lynne refuses to tell you her goals even though you're a literal ghost who's saved her life 3+ times in the same evening. Like, what do you have to lose, Lynne? Do you think this ghost is going to leak your goals to the police? No, it's just in service of delaying information so the player gets that information when it really hits. My friend circle has some to refer to characters in video games not telling you information for no reason as "Shu Takumi-ing".

Because most AA games are really silly, this isn't usually a gamebreaking issue. Why isn't your ally telling you information that would allow you to help them? Well, they're stupid, that's why. This is a game where you get possessed by dead people to get evidence and cross-examine a parrot. It's not serious. Everyone's a little bit on the stupid spectrum.

That's not really the case with TGAA. The games still have silly moments, but the characters are very explicitly smart. Kazuma is meant to be a legal prodigy on an exchange program. Susato is incredibly well-read and her father is a well-traveled and well-respected man of the law himself. Iris is a genius. Sholmes is whacky, but he's supposed to be cannier than he lets on.

Because of that, it's really noticeable when Shu Takumi doesn't know how to delay information or elegantly set up an interpersonal conflict. His fallback is always to have a character drink The Stupid Juice. For Case X, this character is suddenly stupid and does stuff they'd never do. For Case Y, it's someone else.

When you're dealing with Larry Butz and Lotta Hart, you come to expect that sort of thing. The inconsistency is part of their character. But when Susato can't identify her own father sleeping on the couch because... I dunno, I guess she landed on her head when she fell out of bed this morning, what the hell are we doing here, gang? Why are we doing this? Some people in our chat were like "This is a joke". I don't know. Is it? it really a joke if it takes 20 minutes of real gameplay to SOLVE THE MYSTERY instead of walking over and look at him, like any rational person would do?

I also can't go into too many details about this without spoiling things, but I really really hate the core overarching plot of this duology. I would bet almost all the money in my bank account that Shu Takumi didn't have the details of the second game 100% ironed out by the time he wrote the first. They don't lead into each other at all and so many characters' actions need to be unfathomably stupid for everything to work out the way it does. It kind of makes me retroactively dislike a lot of the cast. Especially Sholmes.

Also the assistant Van Zieks gets in the 2nd game is unfathomably bad. Everything about that setup and how that character acts is my least favorite thing about the game and maybe my least favorite thing that ever happens in the entire franchise. It makes me SO angry.

The games are still pretty good though.

[snakes-and-fluff]

The more I think about it, the more I realise the game Milgram was rigged from the start. Obviously Milgram is inherently cruel; obviously it was never going to end well. But I think with the specific cast of 10 they put in there, every one of them had some aspect or other that caused them to take to Milgram worse.

Yuno and Kazui: two self-proclaimed liars. If Guilty, would lean more into their lies and lose themselves but if Innocent have to face the fact that they are lying, and lose the one thing that they had in place to protect themselves - we've just seen this happen with both of them, and now they're both in extreme pain because of it.

People who thrive off external validation: Haruka and Muu. There was no way they'd ever come out the other end of the judgement hell prison looking remotely the same as when they went in. And they'd always find each other and tie their fates together in some fashion or other.

The man who needed a place to belong: Fuuta. As I've said before, I think he was always going to find somebody to follow in the footsteps of - he always needed a role model and in the murder-hell-prison he doesn't exactly have a perfect crop to choose from.

Amane was raised in an awful environment but she never got to experience normalcy; she just got dragged from one hell to another - of course she'd never react well. When Guilty she retreated into her previous teachings since at least there was a semblance of safety for her there, but there's no telling how a T1 Inno would've gone - if anything she might've discarded her old beliefs only to view Milgram itself with the same fervour.

Already unwell when he got here, Mikoto was only ever going to get worse. In the instance he got a T1 Inno, he never would've confronted himself about his murder and probably been liable to repeat it (possibly even within Milgram), and with the T2 ultimatum (Guilty means Mikoto goes, Inno means John goes) there was no good end, as leaving either one by themself would only cause them more pain.

Shidou wanted the death penalty, so a T1 Guilty clearly wouldn't have ended well. An Inno meant he fell back into old roles - at least in this timeline he was able to use his doctor skills to good use, but what if he wasn't? If pushed, wouldn't he just do it again: choose someone to save at the expense of someone else?

Mahiru... I'll admit, Mahiru's still an odd one to me. But we saw her break when she got her Guilty, and an Innocent wouldn't have helped her to see what she did wrong either. Perhaps she'd even have repeated her mistakes in Milgram itself.

And of course, instigator number 1, Kotoko. We've seen how she reacted when Innocent, becoming the enforcer for this horrible system, and of course she'd take offense if Guilty - even if it'd happened back in T1, she either would've been just as angry by being the one labelled "wrong" since she believes it's her job to punish ones like that or she would've broken completely, wondering if she has any purpose at all.

What was that line from Undercover again? You will, for sure, with a smile for sure Be pleased and satisfied

There was never any winning. Not for us, and certainly not for them.