#logan playground

[funthingsfortoddlers]

Logan Gardens is a massive park in the centre of Logan City. 

It offers several hectares of landscaped parklands 

AND a nature playground 

AND a sensory playground 

AND a splash water park 

AND more.

Discover all the FUN of Logan Gardens here: www.funthingsfortoddlers.com/parks/logan-gardens/

[thegodsplayground]

Logan is an anxious bb again

[maroonmused]

call me when you’re ready to be real (logan howlett/wade wilson) — chapter 8

“You steamed your shirt.”

Logan halfheartedly rolls his eyes while Wade guffaws and drops his hands back to his sides. “Well. If you wanted proof that this universe is business as usual, no impending crisis on the radar, let it be that. Your friends will be here in any minute, there’s too many wontons on the counter for three people and a dog, and I steamed my shirt. Good enough?”

Wade grins, white teeth stretching across his face until Logan would be hard pressed to single out the mercenary from moments ago, huddled against the doorframe like not even gravity was doing its job to keep him in this world.

“Good enough, peanut. You fucking sap.”

[edupunkn00b]

The Vulture Masterpost

Photo of a vulture sitting on a dead tree branch by Abhishek Singh via Unsplash, colored by edupunkn00b

Death encounters the Musician, badly injured. Instead of collecting his soul, he seeks help to save the future King's life.

~

Remus carries a bloodied and unconscious Roman back home to the Mindscape, looking for anyone who can help.

Parallel tales set in the Imagination and the Mindscape, Roman's life hangs in the balance.

AO3 - Playlist - Inspired by @sanderssidesfanfiction's art as part of the @xts-reverse-bangx. Special thanks to @anxious-mess19 for early beta reading and much-needed encouragement!

Chapter List - updates every two days

Death

The Hermit

The Star

The Hierophant

Justice

Info about the Vulture inspiration below:

The title, Lucas' Imagination character, and the imagery for Death's discovery of the Musician were deeply inspired by this image of the Five of Swords I came across on Pinterest while researching Tarot. It's from a deck called The Spacious Tarot. If you have the means, consider patronizing them.

[logaenhowlett]

I hc Logan as being very physically clingy when he's alone with his partner :)) once he passes the threshold of vulnerability there is NO going back he is a cuddlebug

oh, absolutely. i’m going with origins!logan for this one. i just know, somewhere beneath all that adamantium, that man is a fiend for physical affection.

— CLINGY ORIGINS!LOGAN HCs

Personal space becomes more of an unheard phenomenon once Logan gets comfortable.

Of course, it’s not that he’s obsessive to an unhealthy level. No. He just has a barely-filled physical touch meter that goes balls-to-the-walls and suddenly, he's a three hundred pound koala of sorts. Good luck prying him off.

You’d think he got smacked upside the head. Maybe some drunk at the bar he frequents landed a few hits. Maybe his buddies at the lumberyard were droning on and on about how their partners are too affectionate and he got self-conscious.

Is he doing enough? Are you satisfied with him?

This man has spent the better part of two centuries keeping people at a claw's length. And now? The floodgates are open, and Logan's hell-bent on making up for lost time.

He'll find any excuse for contact. It's all very shy at first. When you're walking together, his pinkie will somehow tangle with yours. When you're both heading for the doorway, he'll accidentally bump into you, his hand conveniently grabbing your hip. "Sorry, darlin'... didn't see ya there." (He totally saw you there).

The kitchen becomes his playground. Reaching for the same dish towel, purposely hovering behind you while putting away groceries, helping you stir something on the stove, his chest warm and solid against your back.

You swear he starts purring. Soft, little hums of content as he's nuzzling into your neck. He'll deny, of course.

Logan develops a fascination with your hands. He'll instinctively hold one as you're talking, ghosting random patterns with his thumb. If you pay attention, he's really tracing the words 'I love you' over and over again.

Long before either of you actually say it.

Sometimes, he'll press his lips to your knuckles, before quickly looking away, pretending he didn't just melt his own heart.

Forget about being cold. If the breeze ever dares to catch you off-guard, it's game over. Logan's arms are around you in seconds. You'll be warm, all right, and perhaps slightly suffocated. But mostly warm. Not that you'd ever complain.

He's all cocky and confident until you start reciprocating. You seek his biceps. You lean into him on the couch. You initiate hugs, cuddles—and Logan's personal favourite—sweet, slow kisses.

That's when he's gone. Rendered stupid even. His vocabulary reduces to happy sighs and even happier grumbles.

And the best part? He stops questioning it. He stops wondering if he's doing enough, if you're satisfied. The sneering voices in his head simmer down, ebbing away to the corners of his mind.

All because of you.

One night, well into witching hours, Logan remains half asleep, stroking seemingly nonsensical words on your back as you're tucked beneath his chin. Yet, the shape of the letters become more and more obvious.

My home. My home. My home.

Tender kisses land along his jawline as you whisper. "You're my home too, Logan."

He won't reply. But, the prettiest shade of pink settles across his cheeks, and it stays there forever.

[shybluebirdninja]

Public Heat

Summary: Logan’s wild side takes over as he fucks you onto the balcony.

Pairing            : Logan Howlett x Human!Fem-reader Note               : exhibitionism sex, smut

The cool night air hit your skin, but the heat between you and Logan was enough to set the whole city on fire. You barely had time to think before you were pushed up against the railing of your balcony, Logan’s rough hands already pulling at your clothes, his growl rumbling through the darkness.

“Logan, we’re—” you started, glancing down at the street below, the lights of the city glowing, people walking by completely unaware of what was about to happen. But Logan didn’t care. He wasn’t the type to give a damn about who could see or who might hear. In fact, the thought of it seemed to turn him on more.

“You worried about a little audience, sweetheart?” he rasped into your ear, his voice dripping with that familiar roughness that always sent a shiver down your spine. His hands gripped your waist, spinning you around until your chest was pressed against the cold metal railing. The city was spread out below you like a playground, and here you were, at the mercy of this feral man.

Before you could say anything, Logan’s hands were on you again, tugging at your pants, rough and impatient, and you couldn’t help but moan as he peeled them down. The cool night air hit your exposed skin, a stark contrast to the heat burning inside you, but you didn’t care. Not when Logan was behind you, his body pressed so close, his breath hot against your neck.

“You’re soaked already,” he growled, his hands running over your bare ass, squeezing possessively. “You like this, huh? Knowing anyone could look up and see you get fucked by me.”

You could barely respond, your mind spinning from the intensity, but your body gave him all the answers he needed. You pushed back against him, craving more, craving everything, and Logan’s low, dirty chuckle told you that he knew exactly what you wanted.

“That’s my girl,” he muttered, and before you could catch your breath, he slammed his dick into you, hard and deep. The force of it made you gasp, your hands gripping the railing for dear life as Logan started moving, not caring at all who might be watching.

The way he fucked you was wild, reckless, like he couldn’t hold back anymore, and the thought of people walking below, just a glance up and they’d see you like this, only made it hotter. Logan’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you back to meet his thrusts, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air. You could barely think, barely breathe, the only thing you could focus on was the way he felt inside you, the way he owned every inch of your body.

“Goddamn, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” Logan growled, his voice rough with lust. His hands slid up your back, pushing your chest further against the railing, arching you even more so he could bury himself deeper, harder. “You love this, don’t you? Letting everyone see how good you take it.”

You moaned, your body shaking with the intensity of it all, and Logan’s pace only quickened, his cock slamming into you over and over, making sure you felt every inch of him. The thrill of being so exposed, knowing anyone could see, made it impossible to hold back, and you could feel your orgasm building fast, your body tightening around him.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasped, barely able to form words, but Logan wasn’t stopping, wasn’t slowing down. He was relentless, his hands gripping your hips so hard you were sure there’d be bruises tomorrow. But that was the last thing on your mind now.

The tension in your body snapped, and you came hard, your legs trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Logan growled in satisfaction, his hips slamming into you one last time as he chased his own release. You could feel him throbbing inside you, and then, with a deep, primal grunt, he came, filling you up as he held you tight against the railing.

For a moment, neither of you moved, just standing there, bodies pressed together, both of you trying to catch your breath. The sounds of the city below seemed distant, almost unreal, as you slowly came down from the high of it all.

Logan leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he chuckled softly. “Think anyone saw?”

[sceletaflores]

ghosts, ghouls, goblins, and other things that go bump in the night!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.5k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, drinking, resident bestie diva wade wilson, matching costumes ofc, established relationship, p in v, semi-public sex (bathroom), rough sex, mirror sex, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, light degradation, light hair pulling, light choking, nasty dirty breeding kink (@guiltyasdave infected me with the breeding kink disease...it's all her fault), 4k words for straight up porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: happy halloween! sort of...i obvi couldn't wait to post this until the actual day cause i have absolutely zero patience so here you go! i thought up this idea in the middle of the night and literally got out of bed to start it. it's a nasty self indulgent mess...hope you love it! kisses <3

cutie divider by icon @saradika-graphics!

you and logan have some fun at wade's halloween party...

Unsurprising to no one, Wade Wilson knows how to throw a party. 

Every year since the two of you became neighbors, you’ve gotten a gaudy invitation decorated with cartoon bats and devils slipped under your door just in time for Halloween.

Of course, it’s always in some cheesy font, red and glittery. A crappy pun about “scaring up some fun with your favorite mercenary” with a return address listed as ‘Hell’s Playground’ inscribed on the front.

It's awful. You haven’t missed one yet.

And not just because you’re a sucker for free booze and cheap decorations. It’s like tradition now, you can't have your perfect attendance streak cut off four years in. That's just bad manners.

Besides, this is the first year you’ve gotten to do a couples costume.

“I look fuckin’ ridiculous,” Logan mutters, deep voice laced with irritation as he messes with the wolf ears perched awkwardly on his head. “Can’t believe I let you drag me to this thing.”

You don’t turn to face him, but you can still see the frown tugging his lips down in your mind. Logan’s never been one for costumes, but his options were either dress up or stay home while you went and had fun without him.

He was dead set on staying at home for most of the day.

One look at the frilly white bloomers that came with your costume and he changed his tune.

“Quit being such a baby,” you toss over your shoulder, pouring your second cup of whatever Wade mixed together in the mini cauldron sitting on his bar. “You look great, babe.”

He really shouldn’t complain, his costume is barely a costume. An old flannel with the sleeves ripped off and some mangy jeans.

The fake ears and tail were a struggle and a half to get him on board with, but Logan’s all bark and no bite. He was more than willing to roll over and show you his belly after enough begging.

Logan scoffs, big hand pawing at your hip to drag you to his side. “You owe me for this,” he rumbles low in your ear, the playful threat sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’ll survive,” you tease, a smug grin spreading across your face as you tug playfully on the tail clipped to his belt loop. “Unless you wanted to switch?”

Logan’s eyes drag over your body shamelessly, all the way from the floppy sheep ears sitting on your head to the lacy white corset and matching bloomers that do little to hide your curves. 

You don’t miss the way his eyes darken, how he runs his tongue along the sharp point of his canines like he wants to sink his teeth into you.

It sends a familiar heat coursing through your veins, warming your insides just as much as the vodka with a hint of mixer you’ve been sipping at.

You start to wish you shelled out for the fake fangs at the party store.

Logan tugs you closer, his lips curling into a slow, predatory smirk. “Not a chance in hell,” he rasps, voice dipping a couple octaves lower. “Looks better on you, baby.”

You hum idly as his arm snakes around your waist, fingers splayed along your lower back, inching dangerously close to the swell of your ass.

“You better behave,” you chastise, though it’s more playful than stern as you look up at him through your lashes. “We’re in public.”

Logan’s grip tightens, a soft grunt leaving him as he leans in, nosing along the side of your face. “Doesn’t seem like much of a party when all I’m thinkin’ about is how fast I can get you outta this damn costume.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, the warm puff of his breath over your skin makes your knees feel weak. You try to keep your cool, but it’s hard when he’s practically radiating heat and that intoxicating scent of leather and pine fills your senses. 

Before you can respond, a loud call of your name grabs your attention. 

"There you are!" Wade shouts from across the room, already making his way towards you.

All six foot two and half inches of him is wrapped in blue and white lace, paired with a matching hoop skirt that bounces with every step he takes. His shepherd's staff thuds against the floor when he comes to a stop in front of you. “Fashionably late, I see.”

“We’ve been here for thirty minutes,” you point out, brow cocked as you take in his costume. “Where’ve you been?”

“I’m the hostess with the mostest, honey bunny,” he says, throwing his arm out to gesture towards all the dressed up guests crammed into his living room. “Can’t spread myself too thin.”

He eyes Logan's wolf ears and fake tail, then turns back to you, wiggling his brows suggestively. 

"Kinky,” he comments, flicking the little gold bell hanging from the choker around your neck. “You two just couldn’t resist a little predator-prey roleplay, huh? Should I be worried about you getting all ‘Animal Planet’ on my couch?”

Logan’s grip on your waist tightens, his mouth brushing your ear as he mutters, “I’m gonna kill him before midnight.”

“Now, now, big bad wolf, no need to huff and puff and blow my skirt up. We’re all here to have a howl of a time!” Wade continues, undeterred. “Plus, if you behave, I might just let you keep your sheep when the night’s over.”

You can practically feel Logan’s eye twitch, but you snicker, leaning into him just a little more. “Play nice, Wade,” you say, trying to smother your laugh. “The wolf might eat you first.”

“Please,’ Wade snorts, twirling his shepherd's staff deftly in his hand. “If that’s on the table, I’ll lay out the fucking fine china.”

Logan lets out a huff of air, dropping his hold on you and brushing past Wade with a grunt. "I'm gettin' another beer."

“Try not to stab anyone!” Wade shouts after him, loud enough to be heard over the Monster Mash blaring from the speakers. “Al might blow the whole complex if any more blood gets on the linoleum!”

Logan throws a middle finger over his shoulder as he disappears into the kitchen. 

You watch him go, a grin plastered to your face at the way the tail swings with every step he takes. Something warm and fuzzy settles in your chest, blooming in the empty space of your ribcage.

You know Logan hates this–the people, the lights, the music, the costumes.

But he’s here anyway, for you.

Here wearing the stupid wolf costume you bought for him, surrounded by drunk people in inflatable dinosaur costumes and witches with dollar-store broomsticks. And despite all the grumbling, he hasn’t bolted for the door once.

All for you. And that makes your heart thump a little harder in your chest, your smirk softening into something sweeter.

"You’ve got him whipped," Wade deadpans, crossing his arms, the lace of his sleeves rustling as he does. “It’s really disgusting.”

You snort, shaking your head softly. "More like he's got a soft spot."

Wade eyes you skeptically. "Same thing, toots."

You hum noncommittally, turning back to him. “Cute outfit,” you comment, eyeing the white bonnet secured by a neat little bow under his chin.

“You like it?” Wade does a quick twirl, the blonde curls of his wig nearly slap you across the face as he does. “The guy at party city kept giving me weird looks, but I think he was just jealous of how well I fill in the blouse.”

You rake your gaze over him slowly, taking another slow sip from your cup. “The stockings are a nice touch, but don’t you think running around as Little Bo Peep will send some confusing messages.”

“Well, duh. That’s only the whole point, Sherlock.” Wade snorts, shaking his head like it’s obvious. “I’m way too emotionally invested in this relationship to not try and wiggle my way into throuple territory.”

You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes. “A throuple? Hate to break it to you, Peep, but Logan doesn’t really strike me as the sharing type.”

Wade leans in conspiratorially, cupping a hand around his mouth like he’s letting you in on a secret. “That’s why I’m playing the long game. Gotta wear him down with my irresistible charm, and when he finally snaps, I’ll swoop in with a bottle of Jack and a promise of no strings attached.”

You shake your head, chuckling into your drink. “You’ve got it all figured out, don't you?”

“Oh, honey,” Wade purrs, winking at you with a dramatic flutter of his lashes, “I've got a five-year plan.”

You roll your head to the side lazily, sheep ears swaying as you do. “I’ll give you points for persistence.”

"Damn straight," he says with a grin, straightening his bonnet proudly. “This level of commitment takes stamina. And by the way, I’ve got great stamina. My record is thirteen.”

You raise your brow, intrigued. “Thirteen what? Rounds? Hours?”

“Wouldn't you like to know,” he scoffs indignantly, rolling his eyes. “I’m more than just a pretty face in a killer dress, thank you very much.”

You groan, giving him a light push. "You’re impossible."

Wade grins, leaning closer to throw an arm around your shoulders. “I’m just pulling your tail, Wooly. You know I’d never come between you and your beefy boy toy. I mean, look at him. He’s practically pacing the kitchen like a caged animal just looking at you in your slutty nursery rhyme getup. How pathetic.”

You turn to steal a glance at Logan, who’s leaned against the counter scanning the room from behind his beer bottle. You feel a thrill at the idea that he’s watching over you like a hawk, making sure no one gets too close, slowly working himself up over the mere sight of you. 

But more than that, it’s the slight reluctant smirk tugging at his lips as he takes in the party. You can tell he’s managing to find some enjoyment in all this, even if he’d never admit it.

“Well,” Wade starts, dragging the word out slowly. “Since you’re all cozy over here with your alpha male, I’m gonna go find someone to share these…”

He holds up two shot glasses filled with some unidentifiable neon liquid, “…artisanal beverages with. Maybe that guy dressed like a merman. I’ve always wanted to see what's going on under those tails.”

You snort, raising your own cup to your lips. "You're awful."

“Only on the outside, sugar,” he says leaning down to kiss your cheek with a wet smack before flouncing away into the crowd, his skirt swishing as he goes. “Don’t fuck in my house without at least inviting me to watch!”

You laugh to yourself, watching as Wade fades into the crowd of gyrating bodies. You take another long sip, relishing in the familiar burn as it slips down your throat.

The laughter, the music, the chaotic energy of the party—it’s all intoxicating in its own right, but it’s nothing compared to the way Logan’s eyes are boring a hole through the back of your head.

You can feel his gaze like a tangible force, wrapping around you and drawing you in. Logan’s not just watching; he’s assessing, hungry for something that goes far beyond the Halloween festivities surrounding you.

The heat radiating from his gaze only intensifies your already buzzing anticipation, mixing dangerously with the two drinks swirling in your stomach, making you bolder.

You throw back the rest of your drink, setting the empty cup on the bar and making your way across the room. You weave through the crowd seamlessly, the music pulses around you, drowning out the laughter and chatter.

You feel a daring grin spread across your face as you saunter closer, reveling in the way Logan tracks your every move like a predator zeroing in on its prey. 

When you’re finally standing in front of him, you lean against the counter, giving him a good view of the way your corset dips lower. The fabric hugs you in all the right places, teasing him with glimpses of your skin beneath the delicate lace. 

"Looks like Little Bo Peep lost his sheep," he mutters, voice like gravel drenched in honey.

You smirk, tilting your head to the side innocently as you step around the counter. “Maybe I was already planning to run away, to go looking for a big bad wolf to play with.”

You slip two fingers through the belt loop at the front of his jeans, tugging him closer with a rough yank.

Logan’s goes willingly, taking a step closer. His breath hitches as he does, the hazel of his eyes darkening as you press your body against his, not letting an inch of space between you.

“You're really pushin it,” he warns lowly, hands finding your waist, fingers digging in hard enough to send a shiver cascading down your spine. "Makin’ me watch you run around in this fuckin’ thing.”

“Am I?” you reply coyly, fingers toying with the button of his jeans. “I’m just—” you start, but the words are swallowed by the thumping bass of the music as Logan’s lips crash against yours, silencing you with a hungry kiss.

His mouth moves against yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless, and you can’t help but melt into him, feeling the world around you fade away.

The taste of beer mingles with the vodka on your tongue as you sink into the kiss, his hands tightening around you as he pulls you even closer.

“You have no fuckin’ idea how hard it is keepin’ my hands to myself,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. 

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” you tease, biting your lip as you pull back just enough to meet his gaze. You can see the fire smoldering in his eyes, the predatory glint that makes your stomach flutter with excitement. “But maybe you could show me just how hard it really is.”

Logan lets out a low growl, and before you can blink, he’s snatching your wrist up and dragging you through the kitchen. 

Laughter bubbles out from your chest as you trip over your own feet in an attempt to keep up with him. Adrenaline pulses through your veins, the warmth in your stomach dipping lower to leak sticky and wet between your thighs.

He’s not rushing, but there’s an undeniable urgency in his step, a raw need that makes your pulse race in sync with his heavy stride. Weaving you through the crowd and out into the hallway until the noise of the party gets lower and lower. 

You’re familiar enough with the layout of Wade’s place to know where Logan’s taking you, the bathroom.

The door is hardly shut before Logan’s spinning you around and crowding you against the sink. His lips are on you before you can even catch your breath, rough and possessive, as if he’s been starving for this all night. 

The kiss is rougher than before, dirty and all consuming as he claims your mouth. A mess of teeth and tongue and spit that sends your head spinning, body arching off the counter and into his instinctively. 

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he growls, trailing his lips down your neck, kissing and biting his way to your collarbone. “Drivin’ me so crazy, baby.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as his calloused fingers trace over the swell of your breasts, kneading the soft flesh with a possessive grip that makes your breath hitch. 

Your arms circle his neck, dragging him down for more filthy kisses. The thick length of his cock pressing against your stomach insistently has you keening, a hard plane of scalding warmth even through the thick material of his jeans.

You let out a soft whimper as his fingers brush against your inner thigh, and he grins at your reaction.

He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. "Bet you’re already soaked for me, aren’t you?" His voice drops even lower, a filthy rasp that sends a jolt of heat straight to your core.

You don’t answer, can’t answer, because Logan’s already got his hand between your thighs, fingers teasing over the soft fabric of your bloomers.

His touch is feather-light, but it’s enough to have you gasping, head lolling back to expose even more of your neck to his fever hot lips.

He groans when he feels how soaked you are, his breath coming out in a rough exhale.

“Figures,” he grunts, his fingers pressing harder, rubbing slow circles over the slick fabric. “Could smell it on you from across the room. You’re fuckin’ drippin’ for me, baby.”

You whine, high in the back of your throat, chest heaving with every quick breath. Your legs spread, thighs widening like you can’t help it. His words send a wave of heat straight to your core, fanning the fire of need festering inside you. 

“Next year we’ll get you in a skirt,” he says, nipping at your bottom lip teasingly. His fingers slip under your bloomers, running through your slick folds teasingly. “Easy access.”

You let out a breathless moan, your hips bucking against his hand, begging for more.

“Logan,” you whimper, but he just smirks, applying more pressure with his palm as he leans in closer, his mouth hovering over your ear.

“You like that, don’t you?” Logan rasps, his voice thick with desire. Dark tone laced with satisfaction as he dips one finger inside you, making your breath catch in your throat. “Look at you, drippin’ down my hand. You want more, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you nod frantically, your breath coming in shallow pants as he continues working you with skilled, relentless touches.

Two thick fingers plunged in your aching pussy, his thumb rubbing over your swollen clit. "Please," you whimper, gripping the edge of the sink so tight your knuckles turn with it, needing more, needing him to ruin you. 

“Please what, honey?” he rasps, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You gotta be more specific.”

You grind against his hand faster, desperate for any kind of relief from the unbearable heat building between your legs. “I need you,” you breathe out, your voice trembling. “Need you to fuck me.”

Logan’s response is immediate. A low growl tearing its way from his throat as he gives your bottoms a rough tug, letting them fall down the length of your legs to pool at your ankles.

He slips his fingers out of you, ignoring your displeased whine and spinning you around to face the mirror, hands gripping your hips as he roughly bends you over the sink.

You find his eyes in the reflection, and the hunger there makes your pulse quicken. His lips are swollen, red and slick just like your own. Hazel eyes blown out and stormy, as he meets your gaze.

The fake whiskers and nose you drew on him before the party using an old eyeliner pen are smudged across the lower half of his face along with the red remnants of your lipstick. You have matching black marks scuffed along your cheeks.

"You’re gonna watch while I fuck you," he growls, popping the button of his jeans and pulling them down just enough to free his cock. He strokes himself once, twice, before lining up behind you, dragging the blunt head along your soaked entrance. "Don’t take your eyes off the mirror, baby. I want you to see what you do to me, what I get to see every fuckin’ time."

You nod breathlessly, eyes locked on his in the mirror as he pushes into you with one hard thrust. You gasp at the stretch, head falling to your chin at the pleasant burn of his cock.

"Fuck," Logan groans, his eyes glued to your reflection as he bottoms out inside you, the sheer size of him making your body tremble.

"Tight little fuckin’ pussy," he mutters, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to move, setting a brutal, unrelenting pace. "You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to take my cock."

You can’t stop the moans that fall from your slack lips, pathetic little uh uh uh sounds that get punched out of you with every sharp thrust of his hips.

“Take me so fuckin’ well,” he growls, one hand coming up to grip around your throat, tugging meanly at the bell of your choker that rings as he pounds into you, each thrust harder than the last. “Such a good little sheep, lettin’ your mean old wolf fuck you like this.”

 "Fuck," you moan, the sound broken and desperate as he drives deeper, the thick length of him hitting that spot that has your knees buckling beneath you. “God, Logan…”

“Look,” Logan commands softly, reverently. His lips brushing your shoulder with every word as he tilts your head back up to the mirror, making yourself watch as you take his cock. “Look at how fuckin’ pretty you are getting wrecked on my cock.”

Your reflection in the mirror is a mess—flushed cheeks, eyes glassy with lust, your lips parted in a constant stream of breathless moans. You feel embarrassment mixing with the arousal swirling through your stomach, thighs shaking wildly from the onslaught of pleasure.

The loud slap of skin on skin rings through the tiny bathroom, underscored by the wet gush of your pussy around him each time he buries himself in you.

If anyone were to walk by, they’d surely hear it. They’d know someone was getting fucked, really taking it. The thought alone has you tightening around Logan’s cock, velvety walls clenching around him desperately. 

Logan notices, because of course he does, clever eyes picking up on the way your own drift to the door, lingering.

He threads his fingers through your hair, meanly yanking your head back to the mirror, a feral grin stretching across his face as he watches the way you fall apart for him. 

“Want me to howl for you, baby?” he teases, breath hot against the shell of your ear. You can feel the way his lips curve into an evil grin at the pathetic whine that bursts from your lips, at the feel of your pussy drooling around him even more than before.  

“She likes that, huh?” he chuckles darkly, his thumb finds your throbbing clit, rubbing tight circles as his hips speed up impossibly faster. “Dirty fuckin’ girl, you want everyone to know how good I’m givin’ it to you?”

You whimper, overwhelmed by the raw intensity of his words and the rhythm of his thrusts. Your thighs are trembling, barely able to hold you up as Logan takes you apart, piece by piece, with every deep, punishing stroke.

"Answer me," he growls, voice dripping with dominance as his hips snap against you, the head of his cock slamming into that perfect spot inside you again and again. "You want everyone to hear what a dirty little slut you are for me, huh? You want them to know how much you love being fucked like this?"

“Yes,” you gasp, your voice shaky and breathless as pleasure floods your system. "Yes, Logan, fuck—ah! Just—just don’t stop."

Logan growls, low and feral deep in his chest. It shakes through your body, rattling your bones just as much as the heavy smack of his metal laced pelvis against the raw skin of your ass.

“Greedy fuckin’ pussy, I can feel the way she’s sucking me in, baby,” he grits out, hips stuttering slightly. “She want my come, darlin’?"

You’re a mess of gasps and whimpers, nodding frantically as his words push you closer to the edge. Throwing your hips back to meet his thrusts as the spring inside you coils tighter and tighter, a hair's breadth away from snapping.

"Yes, please, Logan," you moan, your fingers digging into the counter as you brace yourself for the relentless onslaught of his cock. "I want it, want you to come inside me." 

Logan’s hips stutter as he slams into you, his cock buried so deep inside you it feels like he’s splitting you in half. He’s close, his breath coming out in ragged pants as his hand tightens around your throat, fingers pressing against your pulse just hard enough to make you dizzy.

“You’re gonna come for me,” he growls, heavy balls slapping against your ass lewdly. “Gonna come all over my cock, aren’t you? And then I’m gonna fill you up. Gonna fuck my come so deep inside you, you’ll be beggin’ me to give you more.”

That’s all it takes for the coil in your belly to snap, pleasure surging through you in hot, uncontrollable waves. You cry out, your vision blurring as your body clenches around him, and Logan lets out a rough growl, driving into you harder, faster. 

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, dragging out every last second of your orgasm until you’re shaking, your voice hoarse from how loud you’re moaning.

“Goddamn, baby,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust as he keeps fucking into your trembling body. “You’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight—gonna come so deep in you.”

Your breath is coming in short, desperate gasps, your entire body still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. But Logan isn’t finished. He used the fistful of your hair still trapped in his hand, tugging your head back to meet his wild gaze in the mirror. 

“Eyes on me,” he commands, his pace growing erratic. “You want me to fill you up? Want me to come in this tight little pussy?”

“Yes, Logan,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely a whisper. “Please—I need it.”

With a deep, broken groan of your name, Logan slams into you one last time, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, hot and thick. His fingers tighten on your throat, and you moan at the feeling of his cock pulsing, filling you up to the brim. 

You can’t stop the whine that falls from your lips at the feel of his come spraying your insides, completely drenching you with it. So much that it just has to take.

A shudder runs through you at the idea, pussy clenching around his spent cock weakly.

Logan sighs contently, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he catches his breath, hands falling to your waist like it's the only anchor keeping him from floating away entirely.

For a moment, the only sounds in the room are your ragged breaths and the faint thump of the music outside bleeding through the walls.

Logan tips his head back up, meeting your hazy eyes in the fogged up glass of the mirror with a shit-eating grin. “Happy fuckin’ Halloween,” he says smugly, dropping a kiss to the sweaty skin of your shoulder. 

You huff, rolling your eyes with a reluctant fondness. The thought of walking back out there makes your stomach turn, nerves and arousal churning together at the chance that everyone knows what you two were doing after disappearing for so long.

You only hope the white fabric of your bloomers is good enough at hiding the come already leaking from your pussy.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[mcrcki]

"yeah, i mean, between that woman thinking she's my mom, and not for nothing, as great as laura's been, that adjustment's been weird as hell.. then i got into this weird fight with this girl i was seeing, she thinks i have fake memories too. and i met another mutant with the same powers as me, i mean how weird?!?" seriously, in what fucking world did all of these things happen to someone in just a few weeks? she needed a break, honestly. more than anything. "i know, dad, trust me." she knew he was always going to worry about them, that much was clear. they couldn't help but laugh at the comment, glad that some of the tension was easing for her. "you should've always been more worried about me giving her the third degree, come on dad, it's like you don't even know me."

"Weeks?" He says with an expression and tone of concern as he turns a bit more to wrap his arm around Rose. "What's wrong? That woman that was sayin' she's your mom? Liz thinking she's got fake memories?" Granted that plus school was enough to make the last couple of weeks weird but he still felt like he should've caught this sooner. The happier parts of the conversation did feel better. To hear them laugh and see their smile was all he hoped for. "You're my kid and you and your sister are the most important people to me." He chuckles hard and shakes his head. "Oh god kid, here I've been worried 'bout makin' sure I bring the best person I can to protect you and your sister and I shoulda been protectin' her from you." He says with a playful tone as he wraps his arms around his kid and swayed them a bit while chuckling.

[rosenclaws]

Okay—don’t know if this fulfills the type of prompt you’re looking for but: Marie asking Logan to play Barbie’s with her. He somehow ends up wearing a princess crown

Babysitting || Worst!Logan x Reader

warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns are used and the reader is referred as mom

a/n: Man I just love writing Wolverine being a dad omfggg anyways I hope you enjoy!!!

"You promise you don't mind?"

You're rushing around your apartment trying to get ready for work. Just your luck you got called in for an emergency and your babysitter wasn't able to come on such short notice.

In the midst of your panic Logan knocked on your door like a knight in shining armor. Though this knight was caring an empty tupperware that you had given him leftovers in.

Logan had heard you talking to yourself in a panic. He tries not to eavesdrop but you were being louder than usual so being the good...uh boyfriend? Friend, Neighbor? You haven't really figured that part out yet.

Anyways being the good person that he is he came down to see what was wrong.

"I'm sure, she's a nice kid how hard can it be?" He says with a shrug and you resist the urge to scoff. He was doing you a huge favor afterall.

"Pick up is at 3pm, I'll be home by 6 and I'll grab dinner." You grab your bag and hurry out the door.

Logan glances at the clock. It's almost 3 so he better get a move on. Maries school was a short walk from the apartment. He can't but notice just how much he stands out among the other parents here for pick up and drop off.

He winces when he hears the shrieking laughter coming from the playground. Parents come and go, collecting their kids and listening to them talk about their day. He glances to the side and sees a little boy staring at him with wide eyes. In his hands was a wolverine figurine. Logan just smirks, putting his finger up to his lips telling the kid to keep quiet.

"Kitty!" Logan looks up to see Marie running towards him.

"Hey kid, your mom had to go to work so it's just me and you for a couple hours." He lifts Marie up into his arms.

Taking her backpack and slinging it onto his shoulder. The damn thing fit just a little too tight around his biceps and shoulders. As he walks home she rambles on about her day. Logan listens as she plays with the collar of his shirt.

"And then we wrote about our favorite animal and we got to draw it and Ms. K put all of our drawings on the wall."

"Yeah? What's your favorite animal?" Logan asks as he digs around for the key you gave him.

"Kitty cats!" Logan flinches as she practically shouts in his ear.

"Oh yeah? I couldn't tell." As he opens the door he sets her down, placing her stuff near the door as she goes running to her room.

Logan sits on the couch and stretches out, pick up is done so now he just has to make sure Marie doesn't die or get a tattoo or do anything stupid. As soon as he reaches for the remote he hears the little pitter of her feet.

She pokes her head around the wall and looks at Logan with those puppy dog eyes. He groans, knowing she was about to ask him something he won't be able to say no to.

"Will you play Barbie's with me? Mommy promised me she'd play today." She asks. Pulling two dolls from behind her back. Logan just sighs, putting his hands in his head.

"Wouldn't you rather color or something? Or we can watch that show with that annoying blue dog." He tries to bargain but Marie stands firm. She wants Barbie's. It's that or nothing. So Logan just nods his head.

"Okay fine. But only for an hour. Max."

An hour max his ass because Marie wouldn't let him leave. Every time he tried to end Barbie dress up her little eyes would fill with tears and Logan would quickly promise to keep playing. Just the threat of her tears was enough to make him fold. So here he is. At the will of a 6 year old.

"Logan? Marie? I'm home!" He hears your voice and your footsteps get closer.

"Mommy!" Marie yells.

"I brought pizza it's on the counter..." Your voice trails off as you appear in the doorway.

Marie runs past you straight to the bathroom to wash her hands before dinner. Logan is sitting on the ground, having broken the small wooden chair Marie insisted he sit on at firs. A plastic princess crown sits on his head and he has pink glitter nail polish messily painted onto his nails.

"Barbie tea party?" You ask, trying to hide your laughter.

"Yeah. You've raise a very manipulative child you know that?" Logan says as he stands up.

"All you have to do is say no Logan." You reach over and fix the crown so that it rested evenly on his head. His hair tuffs sticking out of the crown just above the fake jewels.

"Well she's very convincing." He hums.

Your hands fall back to your sides but you don't move from the doorway. Something about seeing him so willing to spend time with Marie, to entertain her silly games and even let her paint his nails.

It just means a lot. Logan...he didn't sign up for all of this but he's willingly brought himself into your life and you don't want him to leave. But is he here for Marie? Or would he stick around for you too?

"How do I look?" He asks, snapping you out of your question sprial.

"Huh?" You ask. He shrugs and crosses his arms, his biceps bulging out of his flannel shirt.

"You're staring at me sweetheart, thought I'd ask if you like what you see." He purrs.

Your eyes widen as he slowly backs you against the wall. Even with the pink nails and the plastic crown Logan was all consuming. There's just something so attractive about his paternal instincts.

"You look good." You squeak out.

"Just good?" He asks and you swear your brain starts to short circuit.

"Mommy! I'm hungry." Marie's voice makes Logan jump back, his cockiness fades away as he reaches up and takes the crown off.

"I'll be right there baby. Just go sit down." You say with a smile. You glance back at Logan for a moment, a beat of silence as you stare into each others eyes. Your heart is still racing. He gently places the crown on Marie's bed and walks past you to the kitchen.

"Fuck." You whisper. What was that?

You pretend like you weren't pressed up against the wall by Logan just moments ago and serve everyone a slice of pizza. You listen as Marie tells you about her day and playing with Logan. It's so utterly domestic. But soon Marie's bedtime comes around and it's time to say goodbye.

"Kitty can you pick me up from school tomorrow?" Marie asks sleepily.

"Oh baby Logan's very busy-"

"I don't mind" Logan cuts in.

"Gives me something to do during the day. As long as you don't mind." he adds on the last part quickly. Before you can answer Marie does it for you.

"Yes!" She squeals.

"Marie wait!" You call but she's already gone to her room.

"Are you sure Logan? I know it's a lot. That we can be a lot."

"Sweetheart, I like spending time with her, with you." Logan says softly.

He's really grown to care about Marie and you. A lot. More than he's willing to admit out loud right now. The two of you aren't a lot to Logan. In fact you're just what he needs. This normalcy and kindness. Being around the two of you makes him feel like he really can be more than the man he used to be.

"Okay, thank you Logan. You don't know how much everything you've done means to us." You place your hand on his arm, squeezing it gently.

"See you tomorrow sweetheart." He throws you a wink as he shuts the door.

He stays for just a moment. He hears your footsteps get farther away and he lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding. As he heads back to his apartment he starts to feel dread creeping up his throat. Who is he kidding? Can the Wolverine really go and play babysitter? He's not...he's not good for you or for Marie. But he cares about the two of you and he's too selfish to let you go now.

"How was your date with the hot mom downstairs?" Wade asks as Logan steps into the apartment.

"It wasn't a date I was just helping out." Logan mumbles as he opens the fridge and searches for a beer, only finding a root beer instead.

"Hey we listen and we don't judge. Everyone has a type. Yours just happens to be MILFS."

Logan shoots daggers at Wade as he pops off the top of the bottle.

"Shut the fuck up." A surge of jealousy hitting him like a truck at the idea of Wade even thinking of you like that. Wade just smirks, loving just how easy it is to push his buttons.

"Man you're just racking up those father figure roles aren't you Hugh." Wade sighs. Logan choose to ignore whatever nonsense Wade was spitting from his mouth and head right to bed.

Closing his eyes he just wonders how far he'll let himself sink into your lives. A small part of him hopes forever.

[thegodsplayground]

Logan: :(

Phoenix: what are you upset about?

Logan: I have no one to make fun of for being single

Phoenix: do you know why there is a thing of boba in my front garden?

Logan: I don't know

@mysticcroissant who put the boba there:3

[tourturestarradio]

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌

"𝐌𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢'𝐦 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬."

"𝐃𝐨 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦?"

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Pairing: Worst Wolverine x Vampire reader (platonically)

Prompt: You lost him...he was gone, so why was he here how was he here?

Warnings: Angst with no comfort, Deadpool 3 spoilers, Wade being Wade. (this is connected to Enjoy the silence)

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

Was this a joke? Blinking you stared at him fingers twitching. He was gone, you watched him die, right in front of your eyes. You'll never forget that moment, you lost him, you lost the single most important person in your life and you lost him.

So how?

How was he standing here right in front of you, the rest of the group looking at you wondering what you're gonna do.

Wade gasped as he looked between the two "is this the start of a found family trope-oh nevermind."

You tackled him down in an instant catching him off guard, growling in anger. Growing your nails out you stabbed into his sides "ah fuck!" prompting him to release his claws stabbing them into your side as well, just like old times.

"Well this is NOT how I thought this would go...oh gosh"

Wade gulped the others trying to pull you off of Logan as you two continued to claw at each other "it's like watching a cat fight." Blade looked over at him "will you quit your yapping and help us!" Wade nodded dragging Logan away from you.

"The fuck is your problem! You asshole!" Logan shouted yanking his arm away from Wade.

You hissed at him again, prompting Laura to speak up "they can't talk. Well at least not that well" Logan glared at you and you did the same.

"Well nothing can be worse trying to hear this guy try to do a public speech?" Wade said lightly patting Gambit's shoulder, Blade and Elektra letting go of you.

"L...iar ..."

Logan looked at you "the fuck?" he muttered his wounds slowly healing, your scratchy rugged voice calling out again.

"...L..iar"

"The fuck are you talking about?"

Wade nodded "I agree with peanuts here I can't really understand, you need some whiskey to clear out your throat since we don't have a drop of water anywhere." he joked.

You could feel tears bubble up in your eyes as you hissed again turning and leaving too angry to get a grip on yourself.

"Well that went about as well as a priest going to a school playground."

Elektra rolled her eyes "shut the fuck up" she groaned, Laura followed you out, Wade trying to make small talk "So...anybody up for uno..." he asked

The silence lingered for an uncomfortable amount of time as no one was in the mood for talking.

"Dear God the author needs to change scenes. I can't keep making jokes to fill this awkward silence" Wade said shaking his head.

.

The night drew close as you stayed up on a tree branch sitting staring at the moon your nails tapping against the tree bark, dried tear streaks on your face. Your brain remembering everything about him and the comfort he gave you, that void he filled.

He was the father you never had, he cared about you even when no one else did, even when everyone turned their back on you after the accident. He was there, you stuck like glue to his side never thinking the man you held so dear to your heart could ever die.

He was a hero? He wasn't supposed to die.

He was your hero.

And he left you.

He promised he wouldn't leave you.

He promised.

And he lied, he lied right to your face. You'll never forget the anger you felt after he took that final breath, the hate you felt. But it wasn't towards him, it was towards yourself. You let the one person who meant the most to you die, you let him slip through your fingers just like that.

But now. He's here again. Your eyes glued to him as he drank and talked with Laura for a little bit before she walked away. You didn't understand it, you wanted to lash out you wanted to scream and shout at him for leaving you but you couldn't. You had so many questions, so much you had to tell him about what happened in your life, there was so much to say but you just couldn't say it.

"I know you're there."

Blinking you stared at him, how did he know...?

"I can smell you. Come out."

You jumped down from the tree slowly walking up to him you sat down keeping your eyes on the flames, "what do you want, here to stab me again?" he asked glancing over at you.

You shook your head, signing 'sorry' to him. He looked at you confused and you signed it again, "I don't understand that." he commented, you cocked your head to the side, maybe he just forgot?

So with the best you could you strained out a small "s...orry" Logan looked at you, as you continued "..f..or. hur...ting" he only waved you off.

There was silence before you spoke again "..h..ow?" it hurt to speak but you did so anyway, Logan knew what you meant regardless "look kid. I'm not who you think I am." he started, you gripped onto your pants "I'm not him." he finished.

You shook your head getting up walking away for a second before coming back, you had a picture in your hand showing it to him, it was a bad picture you took of your first mission, it was you and Logan you had a grin while Logan was trying to swat away the camera.

Logan looked at it "that's not me." he stated firmly, you pushed the picture towards him again "kid listen to me. That ain't me," you didn't believe him.

Were you gone too long? Why didn't he remember?

Showing him another picture he swatted your hand away making you drop the picture into the fire, your eyes growing wide as you scrambled to grab the picture.

Logan quickly grabbed you seeing as you were burning yourself to grab it "hey! hey! damn it stop it!" you faught against him to grab the picture burning your hand in the processes.

Putting the fire out you looked at it half Logans face was burned off. Looking at the male you shoved him with a shout "stop that." he commanded, annoyed just hoping you'd go away.

You shoved him again "w..hy!" Logans claws shot out pointing at your throat "look kid I already fucking told you i'm not him! Get that through your thick fucking head!" snatching the two photos away from you he held them up shouting at you "we are not the same person! I'm not that fucking man you used to know! That man is dead!" he yelled.

You could feel more tears fill your eyes, not wanting to believe what he was saying. "He's gone! You've seen it for yourself! He's Dead! And there is nothing you can do about it!" He shouted throwing the pictures down before shoving past you angrily.

You hurried to pick up the pictures holding them close to your chest as hot tears ran down your cheeks, sitting on the ground you pulled your legs up to your chest.

He was right about one thing he was nothing like the Logan you knew. He may have looked like him but he was nothing Logan, he was an imposter, a fake, a lie. The Logan you knew and loved was dead.

And no one could bring him back.

.

.

A/n: This was a tough one, should I do a part two?

[shy-canadian-snowflake]

Any Spiderman gets adopted by Deadpool and Wolverine hcs?

Never thought about this really! I know it’s talked about in the one server I’m in, but I normally don’t jump in. Let's see here though, Have some "Who adopted who"

Going with MCU-like Peter, still in high school Peter, teenage disaster Peter.

Everyone thinks it’s Deadpool who finds him, but it’s actually Wolverine. Wolverine, at night, vetting his new playground, seeing how this New York was different than his New York. He smelled blood, blood he recognized. Peter was one of the first he met that had a counter in his world. Where his Peter was older, this one was only a child. His mother hen instincts kicked in and he followed Peter home (Kinda creepy my guy) and talked to him, telling him that hey, I’m new in town. If you have big fry to fry, leave it to me. 

Peter of course is freaking out because OH MY GOD IT’S FUCKING WOLVERINE, tries to be castual and says how he needs no help. 

“Kid, you look like a wet kitten stuck in a tree. I’m going to be scouting the area with my partner, we’ll try not to get in your way if you don’t get in ours.” Except now Wolverine only ever seems to patrol the area the same time Spider-Man did. He mother hens this kid so much that he actually gets some sleep because he knows Wolverine is out there. 

Wade suspected Logan was up to something- hey he can be kind of observant sometimes- he’d go to sleep with a smile, like he knew he did something right. So Wade follows him and officially meets Spider-Man “Hi I’m a huge fan, I like when you to the thwick thwick with your webs and-”  When they find out he’s alone with his aunt May, they start dropping by with food, Logan helps Peter with his history, Wade teaches him other fighting styles. The three of them patrol together, kicking bad guy butt together.

(Wade and have a ‘no killing most people’ rule when with the kid.)

[edupunkn00b]

The Vulture, Chapter 4: The Hierophant

Photo of a vulture sitting on a dead tree branch by Abhishek Singh via Unsplash, colored by edupunkn00b

Prev - The Hierophant - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 1214 - CW: mild description of wounds - The Hierophant (and Janus) arrive. -

Death could not turn without jostling the Musician so he watched the Star’s face instead. 

The Star set down the vessel and smiled broadly at the newcomer, calm and relaxed. He bowed his head. “Welcome to my glade, Your Grace.” He beckoned the figure closer. “I suppose neither of you need to be introduced.”

A rustle of silk and leather announced the Hierophant's proximity as he stepped in front of Death. “Never did I think I would see the day when Death might seek healing for one of his collection.”

“The Musician belongs to your world,” Death replied. “Not mine.” Emboldened by the Hierophant’s presence, the Vulture swooped low overhead, each beat of his wings rustling the sweat-dampened hair on the Musician’s head. “Not yet,” he said as much to the taunting scavenger as he did to the Hierophant.

Standing tall, the Hierophant kept his distance as he peered intently at the Musician’s healing wounds. “And what makes you so certain I am not the one who allowed the Musician to be so injured?”

The Star began to speak but was silenced with a look from the Hierophant.

Death remained seated and glared up at him, arms tightly curled around the still-vulnerable Musician. “The Star’s readiness to heal him was my first clue,” he said dryly. What was he playing at?

“And you didn’t bring him here simply to grant yourself access to the healing powers of the Star’s waters?” the Hierophant asked, eyeing the patch of pale flesh growing on the back of Death’s skeletal hand.

Death laughed without humor. “So I can watch my form decay as time takes back anything your realm can offer me?” He shook his head. “No. I know what the Court’s musician means to this kingdom. Where would you be without your heir apparent?” The Star and Hierophant exchanged a glance and even the Vulture stilled at his words.

“You cannot know that.”

“But I do.” He combed bony fingers through the Musician’s hair, revealing his features. “No-one else holds the King’s attention such as he does.” Death didn’t smile. “No-one else might take up the throne when at last the King is mine.”

The Hierophant stared at Death. “And when will that be?” he asked, not quite disguising the quaver in his voice.

“Soon.” The Vulture’s cry punctuated Death’s pronouncement and the Star covered his face, his glow dimming briefly as golden tears streamed down his cheeks.

The Hierophant remained silent for a long while. Finally, he nodded. “The Musician was on a quest. To prove his mettle against the threats beyond the Kingdom of Light. To prove his worthiness of the throne.”

Death frowned. “Surely you don’t mean…”

“The Kingdom of Light lives in fear of the dark.” His pronouncement bore no judgement, a simple statement of fact. 

“Light and Dark… They’re all just words. You know that better than most, Your Grace.” The Hierophant ignored the bite of Death’s sarcasm behind his title. “The Musician has nothing to prove as long as he has the people’s devotion.” Fire sparked from Death’s eyes. “And he does.”

The Hierophant waved a hand, dismissing Death’s argument. “He was uncertain.”

“Then rather than demanding reckless attempts to demonstrate his worth,” Death’s voice grew low and the spring water stilled. “Perhap it’s time your kingdom demonstrated its devotion to him.”

“He still must pass judgement.”

Death swore under his breath when the Vulture drew nearer. But the Hierophant raised one eyebrow at the Star and inclined his head. “You may not be King, but as the Star, your intentions carry weight beyond my words.” 

Cheeks still damp with golden tears, the Star lifted his chin, eyes narrowed as he waited for the Hierophant’s request.

“Perhaps there is something you can do to demonstrate your estimation of the Musician’s heart?”

The Star nodded and knelt beside them, Death and the Musician. “If I claim him, I can look into his heart, but it…” He shimmered and dodged Death’s gaze before taking a deep breath and inching closer. “It may hurt. Will you hold him?” he asked Death, thumb hovering over the Musician’s brow.

There was only one other living being the Star had claimed and though the Hermit hid the symbol beneath his hooded cloak, the mark allowed him free passage through all the kingdoms without fear or question of his loyalty.

Braced against the ground, Death tightened his grip on the Musician. “Continue,” he said and held on, gaze unwavering, as the Star touched him and the Musician screamed.

And then it was over. 

The Star stepped back, hands shaking. “It’s true,” he whispered. “He doesn’t know he’s already the King’s favored heir.”

The Musician lay limp in Death’s embrace, but still he breathed, his warmth a beacon. The Vulture flew overhead, low enough for Death to hear the beat of his wings, the clack of his beak. “He doesn’t look much like an heir, does he?” Death muttered, gently turning his face this way and that. 

He was dirty, muck and blood sticking to his hands and face and hair. His wounds had finally stopped bleeding, but their evidence clung to his tunic and his skin. 

~

“What lie?” Hands moving faster than he could think, Remus grabbed Roman’s tunic, staring down at the healing gashes. The skin was healed, the wounds gone. “He’s fine, look at him!”

Janus didn’t know what he was talking about.

Remus waited for Roman to open his eyes. And waited. His bleeding had stopped. There was color in his cheeks again. But his eyes remained closed and he lay still on Patton’s bed, limp, lifeless. Remus poked at his brother. Nothing.

Fuck this noise. Remus curled his arms under Roman’s back and under his knees. He’d just take him back to his side of the Imagination, he’d find someone, build something, create something, anything, and he’d just figure it out. He didn’t know what the fuck Ro thought he’d do traipsing around by himself on his side, but he’d gotten hurt alone and fuck all if Remus was going to let him stay hurt. Not if he could do anything to help him.

“Muse,” Janus murmured, ungloved hands gently prying his fingers from Roman’s sash. “You did well to bring him back. But your brother has greater hurts than just these wounds.” Remus followed Janus’ gaze down at the gashes in Roman’s tunic. Slowly, he settled back onto the bed.

Janus knelt beside him and took Roman’s hand, turning it over to examine the nails bitten to the quick, the bony wrist. “More hurts than any of us have cared to see.” 

Patton sat on the other side and dabbed at Roman’s face with a washcloth. Eyes still closed, he finally moved, leaning in to the touch. The hint of a smile played at his lips. “I know that, Jay,” Patton replied, almost too quiet for Remus to hear. Maybe he wasn’t meant to.

And since when did Patton call him Jay? Fuck secrets.

Janus sat beside him and wiped away the blood on Roman’s hands. “His injuries look familiar,” he murmured. 

Remus leaned close to sniff at the healed wounds and the bits of tar-like blood on Roman’s scabbard. He nodded. “One of my orcs. Well…” His voice faded, mustache twitching. It had clearly been more than one. “We were gonna go together.”

“Perhaps your brother was trying to prove something to you just as much as he was to the rest of us.” Logan stood in the doorway, eyes dark and glossy with concern. Lucas peered over his shoulder, matching worry in his eyes.

[mikashida]

have u considered drawing deadclaws if they were childhood friends like wade is the snarky annoying but kinda funny kid who probably threw rocks, and logan is the emo at way too young an age kid sulking on the side of the playground

i think it would go something like this

[5am-the-foxing-hour]

Logan: There are some kids on the playground, do you want to go and socialise?

Child Janus:... No.

Virgil: *WHEEZE*

Logan: Well, we tried.

Virgil: We're raising an introvert, omg!

[presidentkamala]

LMAO these exit polls from germany guess GenZ is an international problem....logan roy from succession voice i built you a playground and you thought it was the world