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Greetings, fellow creatures! I'm Robin (they/them), 20 y.o. Welcome to my blog! All requests are CLOSED. Side blog: @ihaveadesiretoshitpost
586 posts
"Thinking I Dont Love You, Course I Do, Sweetheart.
"Thinking I don’t love you, ‘course I do, sweetheart.”
Summary: (y/n) storms off after an argument with Cooper thinking he doesn't care about her but she soon realises that someone is trailing her.
Word count: 0.8K
Warnings: Swearing
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“Fuck you, Cooper.” I grab my rucksack
“I’d happily oblige.” He teases despite me being frustrated.
“I’m not joking, Cooper, leave me alone.” I say storming off.
“If that’s what you want, sugar.” His refusal to react with any emotion only makes me more annoyed as I walk off into the desert.
“I’m serious, I’m leaving and you can’t stop me.” I yell, turning back to look at him briefly before heading off into the desert, despite it nearly being night time.
The temperature drops quickly as the sun disappears from the sky but I keep my eyes set on some ruins not too far on the horizon to stay for the night, just to be away from Cooper no matter how cold I’ll be without him.
Getting there, I stay the night on the cold, hard floor, regretting not taking the makeshift bedding from Cooper’s bag when I left so I prepare for an uncomfortable night.
Unsurprisingly, I wake up early in the morning, just as the sun comes up, waking me up as I pack all my stuff up and leave, deciding arbitrarily that I’m heading into town to top up on supplies that I forgot to take from Cooper before leaving.
I stop from lunch, sitting down at the top of a sand dune and pulling a small amount of food that barely equals lunch but it’s the best I’ve got to eat. Ripping open a pack of overly dry crackers, I bite into one of them, regretting not taking more water from Cooper.
I keep watch on the horizon before seeing someone walk over one of the dunes, I take my sniper off my back, using the scope to check out the threat before seeing someone dressed exactly like Cooper. I sigh when he gets closer, his face identifiable.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I mumble, watching as Cooper walks through the desert, the same path as I was walking.
I throw my backpack on, opting to eat the dry crackers on the move to get away from him. Checking back every now and then, he trails me throughout the desert but stays far enough away that I can’t talk to him, barely able to identify him without my scope.
I turn around and stop walking and watch as he gets a pair of binoculars I bought for us out of his bag to look at me and I put my middle finger on both hands up at him, hoping he’ll get the hint but I imagine he just laughs, dismissing me.
He follows me until I reach the treeline where he’s unable to see me anymore, waiting for him to take the bait. Waiting, I use my sniper scope to see how close he gets and as soon as he breaches the treeline I stand up.
“Can you stop fucking following me? I told you I was done.” I huff.
“You ain’t done. You ain’t never gonna be done with me ‘cause you couldn’t handle it.” He smirks.
“You seem to be the one who couldn’t handle it - following me around.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I need you as much as you need me so why are you messing around?” He asks.
“Because you’re a dickhead.” I point out.
“That’s true but I’m a lotta things and if that’s the only one you have a problem with then I’d say you’re dealing with me pretty well.”
“I have more problems with you.” I cross my arms, stubborn.
“Please, go ahead, feel free to list ‘em.”
“You’re mean, you’re rude, you never admit when you’re wrong, you, you, you never wear socks with your shoes.” He chuckles at the last one. “And you never tell me you love me and it feels like I’m just following you around like some lost puppy that you found on the street and felt bad for.”
“You done?” I take a breath that he takes as a yes. “You’re one silly woman, you. Thinking I don’t love you, ‘course I do, sweetheart.” He scoffs, wrapping his arm affectionately around my neck and pulling me closer to press a kiss to my forehead. “Now stop running away and come back with me.”
I pretend like I’m even gonna make the choice not to go with him, I didn’t take all the supplies I would’ve needed and I can’t even lie about the fact that I love him and probably wouldn’t last that long without him. “Fine.” I sigh. “But you’ve got some making up to do.”
“‘Course, ‘course. If I didn’t make you feel loved then I’ve definitely got some making up to do.” He says. “Now, get your bag, let’s go.” He says and I grab my rucksack, throwing over my back before he takes it off of me carrying it for me. “Least I could do.” He says, when he sees my slight confusion but I don’t complain. “Now come on, sweetheart.”
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AN: I hope you enjoyed reading!
Thank you for reading!
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Nb/REBLOG,DONATE & SHARE WITH FRIENDS ❤️
I haven't checked properly if this is a scam (not to be insulting, but I've seen similar scams) and don't really know how to check, but in case it is real, here you go. I am sadly not able to donate but I hope my reach is big enough to help at least a little bit.
TF2 Mercs Green Flags (except it's very biased)
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I love my boys. Yes, this is biased and questionable. But this is meant to be cute and fun.
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Scout:
-Silly little goober, great person to be around when you need cheering up
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-Also your biggest supporter, will demand that other adore you as well
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Demo
-Precious baby boy is a major cuddle bug
-Def knows how to knit/crochet, will make you whatever you want
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-He's essentially a big walking teddy bear. Perfect for cuddles, especially on a cold or rainy day
Heavy
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Engie
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Medic
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This was literally perfect, thank you so much! I think you described so well how Cooper would address this kind of situation. The detail that he worried the whole time if the reader was mad at him was so nice as well. I totally agree that he knows the kind of despair the reader is going through like the back of his hand. It's so tender, so raw and so real. This was amazing and I'm definitely gonna come back to this when I need some comfort. You have no idea how much this means to me <333
Hello! I would like to request Cooper Howard x gn!reader (post war, because...murderous cowboy...hnnngh), where they struggle with mental health issues like depression? I've been in a really tough spot, having no energy or motivation to do anything or really any desire to take care of myself. So I was thinking, maybe the reader's mental health is declining, they're slower and sloppier when it comes to keeping up with Cooper and he's more and more frustrated. Then one day he has enough (maybe the reader is taking too long packing up) and threatens to leave them and they're just...passive, because they really don't care anymore about what happens to them. So he realises they haven't been taking care of themselves properly for a while now and then some soft moments with him? I know this is pretty dark and you can change this however you'd like, but I'm dying for some hurt/comfort with this man 🥺 It's totally cool if it's too much for you, if you decide to not write this, please just let me know, so I don't wait for it. Thank you so much, I love your Cooper fics <3
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Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x gn!Reader
Synopsis: You’ve been struggling lately, putting both you and your traveling companion in danger. He was bound to confront you about it eventually. Tags: Prompt Request, Not Beta Read, Gender Neutral Reader, Depression, Mental Health, Mentions of Suicide, Disagreements, Comfort, Lazy Day, Cuddling, Beginning Relationships Author's Note: Trigger warning for topics relating to mental health, such as depression and suicide. Please do not read if you’re not in a good mental space. Take care of yourselves. Also, everyone’s experience with depression and mental health issues differs, so I am writing this story the way I experience it. Also, this was a fun challenge to write. Like how the hell would he approach a topic like this? It’s been fun to explore his character like that, and I hope I did it justice. Thank you so much for the request! <333
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You used to be able to keep up with the Ghoul.
Wherever he went, you followed, tearing through the Wastleland without hindrance. You watched his back, and he yours, a security that was unheard of in this world. It was a trusting friendship, bordering on something else, something that neither of you had crossed yet. You couldn't compete with over a hundred years of experience with a gun, but you were able to hold your own quite well. You were a decent shot and someone who never let anyone get the drop on you, senses always sharp.
So when you started missing easy targets and found yourself surprised by opponents one too many times, you knew it was a matter of time before the Ghoul started asking questions and not believing the first lie that you said. The first time it had happened, you blamed it on your lack of sleep, and he seemed to buy it. And maybe you convinced yourself it was just a lack of sleep, ignoring the darkness that had begun to emerge in your mind. You just needed to rest, was what you told yourself.
It happened again a few days later, completely missing a target in front of you. Your reactions had begun to slow down, too, unable to avoid the swing of a blade, cutting across your cheek. It was like your body gave up on wanting to move, an unbearable weariness to your muscles that you were unable to shake. Later, as you bandaged the wound on your cheek, the Ghoul confronted you, demanding to know why you were acting so sloppy. You’d merely shrugged, offering up the idea that you were sick. This time he seemed less convinced, yet he had let the matter go.
You knew why you were acting the way you were. You weren’t unfamiliar with depression, far from it. It was something you’d dealt with your entire life, coming and going like waves. You’d go days, weeks, months and you’d be fine, but then a flip would switch. You’d lose your energy, your motivation, wanting nothing more than to just lay on the ground and never get back up. You’d stop taking care of your body. You’d lose your appetite. Your thoughts would turn dark, ideations and ideas flashing in your mind, things that you’d never tell another soul.
For the months you’d been traveling with the Ghoul, you’d been able to keep a reign on your depression. Sure, you had your off days, but nothing like this. It was like the universe was punishing you for having such an excellent past months.
But how could you explain this to your traveling partner? How could you explain that you didn’t have the energy to continue existing, to continue fighting? He needed you to be alert, to not have your thoughts occupied with something, that in perspective to the Wasteland around you, was trivial.
So you kept your mouth shut, forcing yourself to appear alert and unaffected. You forced those thoughts to the back of your mind. You forced your body to move, no matter how much it screamed at you to just be still.
But it seemed that all that bottling your thoughts up did was make it worse. As the days dragged on, you stopped talking, only muttering small words whenever the Ghoul asked you a question. You’d normally spend the time traveling conversing, and the Ghoul did try to initiate a conversation with you, but no amount of questions and joking and jabs could get you to break. Eventually, he fell quiet too.
Sleeping became a challenge. You’d think with how exhausted your body felt, you’d be able to sleep easily, but the opposite was true. Hours would tick by, and you’d lie awake, getting up the next morning more exhausted than before you went to bed. Your face, already a bit gaunt from living such a difficult life, had grown even more so, the circles around your eyes darkening and your lips growing more chapped.
You stopped eating, turning away the food he offered you. After you went a few days without eating more than a bite, he practically forced spoonfuls of food into your mouth, snapping at you the entire time. It was humiliating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to change. You just wanted to be done.
You could tell that your demeanor was starting to annoy the hell out of the Ghoul, whose words had turned shorter and snappier. If you took too long, he’d grab you by the shoulder and drag you along, like an upset parent with their child. Your cheeks would burn every time, tears pickling your eyes, and you’d hang your head.
There was a tension growing between you and the Ghoul, your friendship growing thin. His guard was up constantly, unable to trust you any longer to watch his back, which hurt you more than any knife or gun. Soft glances disappeared, his gaze scrutinizing when he looked at you. Light touches from him reserved for when you were at rest were no more, as you chose to keep to yourself every night. Instead of walking side-by-side, you’d linger a few feet behind him. You pretended like it was easier this way, to make him push you away, but it was tearing you apart.
But eventually, that tension snapped. Too many close calls, too many sluggish movements, too many half-hearted excuses finally made him break. You’d just gotten up for the day, another sleepless night behind you, and you were packing up your few belongings. You must’ve been taking too long, because you heard him sigh audibly, standing in the open doorway of the room you’d sheltered in for the night. “What’s your fuckin’ issue?” He growled, arms crossed tight over his chest.
You looked up, feigning confusion. “I dunno what-”
“Bullshit,” he cut you off. He began to walk towards you, his steps methodical, threatening. “You’ve been actin’ like this for weeks, and you’ve only offered me half-assed excuses.” He was seething, and understandably so. He crouched down in front of you, rendering you unable to escape. “So, you,” he stuck a finger in your chest, barely avoiding hitting you, “are gonna tell me why. And don’t even think ‘bout lyin’, sweetheart.”
You swallowed, heart hammering in your chest at the confrontation. Words flooded your mind, a full explanation on the tip of your tongue, yet you just couldn’t bring yourself to utter it. Your mouth opened and closed, struggling, until you eventually just gave up. Sighing, you just shook your head, which pissed him off even more.
A disbelieving laugh left him, and he ran a gloved hand over his face. “No? You’re kiddin’ me, right?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Ya know, I’ve tried to be lenient. I bought into your fuckin’ lies that you were ‘just tired’, ‘just sick’. I tried to give ya space, to give ya time to get out of this. But you’re gonna get us both killed if ya don’t fix yourself. I can’t be distracted out there, constantly worried ‘bout you and keepin’ you alive, ‘cause it seems like that’s the last thing on your mind.”
He took a breath, steadying his rising voice. “So I’m gonna give ya one more chance to explain yourself, or else I’m leavin’ without ya.”
“Then leave.” Your response came almost immediately, your voice lacking any inflection. Even though in the back of your mind you were screaming at him not to leave, you kept an air of indifference about you, unable to make yourself care. It would be easier if he just left, wouldn’t it? You wouldn’t be putting anyone else in danger, and you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt you felt of him worrying about you so much. And it would be so much easier to just disappear if there was no one looking for you.
He wasn’t expecting that as a response if the look on his face told you anything. His brow muscles were raised, leaning back from you in shock. But the way he was watching you, it was like he was observing you in a different light, dots beginning to connect in his mind. “You’ll die out there without me.”
You merely shrugged your shoulders, glancing down to continue packing your belongings, no longer able to look him in the eye. He didn’t respond, simply standing up with a sigh. You didn’t look up, not even as you heard him walk away, backing towards the entrance of the room. You didn’t look up, even as you heard the surprisingly gentle click of the door as it shut. You didn’t look up, even as the tears that you’d been holding for the past weeks finally fell.
You were alone.
You thought it would make you feel better like there would be a weight lifted off your shoulders. But everything just felt heavier, the thoughts in your mind becoming a tempest, making you physically weak. Expletives tumbled from your lips as you sagged down onto your arms, head hung. Of course, he’d fucking leave, you idiot. No one wants to deal with your moping.
A part of you wanted to chase after him, to beg him to stay, but you already felt pathetic enough. You couldn’t blame him for leaving, not at all. You were weighing him down, putting his life in danger; he said so himself. He could only deal with you for so long. You should be grateful that he didn’t leave sooner.
The sound of rustling fabric made you jump, finally looking up. The Ghoul had taken off his jacket, laying it across the back of the couch he had slept on, never having left the room at all. Stunned, you watched him sit, taking his hat off in the process and setting it on the floor. He finally caught your eye then, a soft look on his face, a look you hadn’t seen in a long while.
“I thought you left,” you whispered, sitting back upright. Embarrassment warmed your cheeks, and you tried to wipe the tears that had fallen on them.
“I ain’t leavin’ ya, sweetheart.”
“Why not?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Do you want me to go?” You’d never shaken your head faster in your life. “Then I’m stayin’.”
“But why?”
He sighed. “‘Cause I care ‘bout you. I… Is that too hard to believe?”
It is. Unable to find words, you just shrugged again.
Something akin to regret or remorse flashed across his face, and muttering something under his breath he reclined against the couch. He was upset, but even now you could tell it was not because of you, at least not fully. “C’mere,” he murmured, patting the couch beside him. “You look like you’re gonna fuckin’ bolt at any second.”
Taking a steadying breath, you complied, albeit with some difficulty, your legs barely wanting to function. His gaze didn’t leave you once, as much as you wished it would, making you want to collapse in on yourself. The walk to the couch felt like it was miles long, but you eventually made your way over to it and him.
He rolled his eyes when you just stood there in front of him, unsure of what to do with yourself. “Sit down, I ain’t gonna fuckin’ bite.” In another situation, you knew he’d add some comment like unless ya want me to, but he bit his tongue. The couch groaned as you sat next to the Ghoul, keeping a foot between your bodies. “Talk to me,” he commanded, yet his voice was gentle. “What the hell’s goin’ on?”
You picked at the skin around your nails, no doubt drawing blood. “I’m… I’m not quite sure how to explain it,” you responded, and you expected your words to upset the man even more. But he nodded his head slowly, an almost understanding look on his face. “I’m just… done."
“Done with… what? Bein’ out on the road?” You shook your head. “Travellin’ with me?” You shook your head again, this time more vehemently. “Done with what?” You knew that he knew the answer to his question, but he wanted you to say it.
“I’m done with… with existing. I just can’t bring myself to care anymore. I’m just so tired of it all.” You sagged back against the couch like speaking took a toll on your body. “I’m so tired.”
He didn’t respond for a while, mulling over your words. “That… that explains a lot,” he chuckled humourlessly. “Your mind won’t just leave ya the hell alone, will it? It's like all your mind can focus on are these terrible fuckin’ things, no matter what ya do. And it just weighs on ya, like a million pounds, getting worse with every passin’ day until you just wanna… give up.”
He explained it perfectly, and you cocked your head to the side, a bit confused about how he was able to do so. “I ain’t a stranger to what you’re goin’ through. We’re well fuckin’ acquainted, to say the least. So I shoulda recognized it sooner with ya.”
He paused, sighing. “Wanna know somethin’?” You nodded. “I was too busy thinkin’ ‘bout what I did to upset ya that I didn’t bother to think of any other possible reason as to why you’re actin’ the way you are. But once I realized it wasn’t my fault, not entirely, instead of bein’ there for ya, I was an ass. I thought, because I’m a damn idiot, that you were just mopin’ around for the hell of it, putting us both in danger simply ‘cause you were tired or some shit. Not once did I stop to think why. And I apologize.”
“You don’t gotta-” He cut you off with a pointed look. “I… I accept your apology, then.”
He nodded slowly, content. “I’d like to help ya, sweetheart. I know nothin’ I say or do is gonna make it go away like that… but I’d like to try. Whatever ya need from me, and you’ve got it.”
“I’m not sure what I need exactly,” you admitted quietly.
“When ya figure it out, will ya let me know?” You nodded.
“Just… be patient. As difficult as that is for you.” You hadn’t meant for the jab to come out, but you weren’t taking it back. Especially when a loud laugh left the Ghoul, making a smile of your own appear on your face. It was faint, yet it was there.
An almost starstruck expression appeared on his face, his laughter dying out. “I missed seein’ ya smile,” he murmured as if it was a subconscious thought.
You ducked your head, making him laugh again. “As for bein’ patient, well, I can be that, if that’s what ya need.”
“It’ll take some time,” you cautioned again, indirectly giving him a chance to back out of this.
“Time ain’t an issue. I’ll wait as long as it fuckin’ takes.”
“You mean it?” Your voice was so soft, barely audible to either of you.
You watched as one of his gloved hands inched towards you, palm upturned. Tentatively, you placed your in his, eyes growing wide when he brought your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. “I swear,” he uttered, sealing the promise with another press of his lips.
As you returned your tingling hand to your lap, his eyes scanned over your face, a furrow appearing between his brow. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten somethin’? Somethin’ that I didn’t force ya to eat,” he added when you opened your mouth to respond.
Your silence said enough, and he leaned down to his bag, which he had placed beside the couch when he sat. After a few moments of rustling through, he handed you a small bag of what appeared to be jerky, as well as a small canteen of water. “It ain’ human,” he added when you eyed the bag suspiciously before taking it.
The jerky was salty and tough when you took a bite, not quite wanting to, but unable to not eat under his gaze. You ate in silence until your stomach was full and your teeth hurt from the tough material. Taking a swig of water, you could feel your eyes growing heavy, eating seemingly draining your energy more than replenishing it. Stifling a yawn, you shoved the canteen back into his hand, and you noticed he had an almost pleased look on his face.
You were confused, though, when he stood, making his way to the entrance of the room. For a moment, those thoughts flashed in your mind that told you that he was finally leaving, that he realized how pathetic you were. But instead of doing any of those things, you watched as he simply wedged a chair under the handle of the door, like he had done before you went to bed for the night.
“What’re you doing?”
“We takin’ the day off. Doctor’s orders.”
“But aren’t we supposed to be in Filly in a few days?”
“We’ll be fine. You are gonna spend today catchin’ up on some much-needed rest.” He stood in front of you now, a moth-eaten blanket in his hands.
“And what are you gonna do?” You asked, and he shrugged.
“Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. Go ‘head, lie down.”
Your eyes quickly scanned the couch, and you took a deep breath before speaking again. “The couch is big enough for us both, no?”
For the second time that day, you’d stunned him with your responses. “Is… is that what ya want?”
Encouraged that he hadn’t just outrightly said no, you nodded your head, and a fond look crossed his features. He handed you the blanket before sitting once more, but instead of his back being against the cushions, he rested it against one of the armrests, not before tucking a pillow in front of it.
Once he was situated, he opened up his arms to you, and you could’ve laughed at how uncertain he looked. Hands rested on your body when you laid down, head on his chest, laying on your stomach, and you made sure the blanket covered both your bodies as best you could. You weren’t too worried about covering all of you, though, with the sheer amount of warmth he was radiating.
His eyes were already on you when you glanced up, a smile pulling at his lips. “Comfy?”
“Yes.” Your voice was barely audible, but he heard it.
You felt his fidget with something in his hand behind your back, but you didn’t have to wait long to find out what he was doing. You felt fingers run along your scalp, making you shudder, before combing through any hair there. “Alright?”
You sighed contently, nodding your head before letting it fall back onto his chest. He continued to run his fingers there, his other hand tracing patterns across your shoulders. You hadn’t realized how tired you were until now, finding it hard to keep your eyes open. For the first time in a long time, you felt safe. Safe from the world outside this room. Safe from the thoughts that plagued your mind. Safe from everything.
He didn’t have to see your face to know that you were struggling to stay awake. “Go to bed. I’ll be here when you wake.”
“Promise?”
“Ain’t fuckin’ like I’m gonna be able to get up,” he chuckled, before taking a more serious tone. “I promise.”
That was all you needed to hear before you finally let the final strings of consciousness leave your grasp. Before you lost control of all your senses, though, you felt him lean down, pressing a barely-there kiss to the top of your head. “You’ll get through this, sweetheart.”
You believed him.
☆ Would merc still like you if merasmus turned you into a worm 🪱 ☆
characters: all mercs
tags: crack but not really I'm taking it kinda seriously, reader has a platonic relationship with the mercs
note: maybe someone's done this before idk I felt compelled to write something tf2 related and this is lowkey all I fucking got lmao
Also this is ridiculously long for a fic that was supposed to be crack so my bad (this was longer actually, but I cut out a bunch of yapping)
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• I feel like Scout's first reaction instead of panicking is to curse and threaten Merasmus.
"OUT OF EVERY SHITTY THING YOU COULD'VE DONE, YOU TURNED THEM INTO A FRIGGIN' WORM?!"
• He's yelling, so much to the point where Merasmus just teleports away and ignores it, finding it funny (of course he finds it funny what a dick)
• He realizes that when he was so busy yelling at Merasmus, he had lost you. He panicked, looking around the ground with a horrified frown, cursing to himself as he started to dig, looking closely. When he finally found you, he placed you on his hand with a frown, looking at how you moved against his fingertips. He wanted to cry a little, he really didn't know what to do.
• He's placing you under his hat. Usually he'd find worms or maggots gross as hell, and if he was going to be honest he still found you gross, but it was you, so...
• Then he rushes back to base, the panicked look on his face never leaving him. He alerts all the other mercs, making a huge fuss over how, you're a worm now, and they need to help him get back at merasmus to turn him back.
He's holding you in his palm, and you're just wiggling around like nothing is wrong cause you're a worm now. And the rest of the mercs look at him like he's crazy.
• Spy, Sniper, Medic, and Heavy are convinced he's lying. Demo believes him a little since he's experienced Merasmus' antics. Soldier automatically believes him fully since the worms there, but you're not, so that must be you. Engineer is just trying to keep the peace, trying to calm scout down, but it doesn't work as no one is listening to him.
• The team is skeptical, thinking that this is some elaborate prank and that, you're just out for a couple hours. But when you don't return tomorrow for the fight, or return after, that raises some suspicions on where you are.
• Ms. Pauling doesn't know where you are either. So is it true? Are you really the worm?
• A meeting is held, everyone stands around the rounded table, the light shining down on you. You're in your little wormy home, slithering and worming your way through life, forgetting your identity, eating leaves and sleeping in dirt.
The mercs watch as you're doing your worm thing.
Engineer clears his throat, making the attention go to him. He turns to Scout, and the confusion in his voice is evident as he speaks.
"Scout, you're absolutely positive that, this worm is (y/n)?"
Scout responds with an aggresive nod, the slight panic and frustration shown in his expression.
"I told you, its them! I saw it happen with my own two eyes, Merasmus found em, they got zapped and poof- they're a worm! A freakin' worm!"
• The team continues to look at you, so peaceful, so calm, being a worm. They don't know why, but, now it was much easier to believe him. The worm was just like you, chill and...cool...and awesome...and wow... amazing..
"So...what? They're just a worm now?"
Sniper said, picking up the jar you were in, looking at you curiously.
"I don't think they'll be too happy stuck like that."
Engineer spoke once again, "If they got turned into a worm, there's...probably a way to turn em' back, right?"
• That was enough to bring hope to Scout's mind. Of course! That was it, if he could find Merasmus and maybe force convince him to turn you back, everything would be okay! All his sadness had dissipated, and he was quick to start making plans.
• So they did, the team would go hunting for Merasmus, and make him turn you back. In the meantime, they'd take turns taking care of you.
• Scout liked to hang out with you, pretending like it was just like before, where you and him would sip sodas together and talk about anything and everything. He'd pour some soda in the dirt you were in, not really caring of the consequences and thinking everything was the same with you two. He really missed having someone to talk to, though.
"Man, I hope you can hear me. It'll be like, super fuckin' weird if I've been talking to you and you're not even in there.."
• Pyro wouldn't really see a difference. That sounds mean, but its really nothing personal. Though now that you were a worm, you weren't as scared as them as you usually were. They'd sit you down, with their plushies, having a nice tea party, watching carefully as you'd just slither about as a worm.
• Soldier was...confused. You, who once was a brave and selfless fighter, was now a worm. It fascinated him and scared him at the same time. He'd get awkward around you, wondering if you remembered him. He'd talk to you mostly, sometimes petting you...He'd try to.
"EVEN IF YOU'RE A WORM, YOU'RE STILL STRONG TO ME!"
"...You're still in there aren't you?"
• Demo wouldn't really know what to do with you either. He finds it kinda funny how you got turned into a worm. Unlike Scout or Soldier, he doesn't really panic, knowing you'll probably be fine, worm or not. He does miss having you to talk to, like scout. Sometimes he'd just be in the living room, and you'd be by the table in your little jar. He'd just watch curiously, but wouldn't really do anything.
• Same thing goes for Sniper. He legit doesn't really know what to do or say. But, he is a little afraid that you won't turn back into a person. Unlike Scout, he found that you weren't 100% obnoxious or annoying, someone to have chill conversations with after battle. He'd keep watch over you, letting you sit with him as he's chilling on top of his van. Sometimes he'd even bring you out with him in battles as he's camping out enemies during fights. He always makes sure you're safe, though.
• Heavy really liked you. He found you someone worth talking to, and a solid member of the team, so it was a bit jarring to see you turned into a worm. He'd keep his hopes up, though, talking to you like normal. Sometimes he'd watch you like Demo did, curious about you and your little world. It was weirdly calming, after battles he'd be worn out, and when he'd see you worming your way through leaves and dirt, it relieved him a little.
• Engie was a little off put by it, the same way soldier felt. You're just...a worm now? Huh. He doesn't really know what to say to that. Medic and him share the same thought, and that thought is, are you concious? Are you aware that you're a worm? Or are you mindless?
They can't help but think of it that way, in a practical sense. Medic would have to hide you from archimedes and the rest of his doves, who would love to eat you at any given chance.
Sometimes they'd do tests on you. Nothing painful or dramatic but, tests to see if you're still in there. They're really overthinking it.
Engie likes having you in his workshop late at night, makes him feel less alone when you're just worming. Medic keeps you at a distance, just to make sure he doesn't lose you or, have one of his doves eat you.
• Spy, is, kind of grossed out. Nobody has a close relationship with him. He did have a lot of respect for you, both on and off the battlefield. You were just a decent human being who he found a liking to, now you're...a worm. A gross, slimy worm.
He never let you into his smoking room, actually he never even let you out of your jar. He liked you, respected you, but liked you more as a person.
He feels pity, honestly, and just wants you to either be out of his way, or back to normal.
• When you do eventually turn back into a worm, they're all pretty glad. They all have questions, ranging from "Were you really in there? Like were you- aware?" And then "Was it nice being a worm?"
I'm sure you can tell who's asking which question and such.
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this what comic 7 leak does to a person
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Am I gonna die?!🥴🫠🤤
(Part 1)