#next level mutant hate

[comicavalcade]

No seriously, as bits go this is actually pretty funny 😂😭

[neverheroes]

[happy74827]

Say Yes to Heaven

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Sometimes all it takes is one look. One gesture. One word. One action. To remind them that not everyone sees them the same, and It's enough to send a person over the edge.

WC: 3690

Category: Fluff, First Kiss, Logan’s POV

Another Grumpy!Logan x Sunshine!Reader because it’s my comfort trope ✨🫶

『••✎••』

He never realized how much he wanted someone to care for.

It was something he didn't know he desired. A year ago, he didn't care for a single thing. He felt nothing. He was so numb. So empty.

He was an angry man. The kind of man people kept their distance from. Wade ruined that; he aggravated him so much that Logan started actually caring about his life. And for as much as he despised his fugly ass, he was internally grateful for him. He started to open up more and more.

Wade had a part in taking him out of rock bottom, as they say, but you… you aggravated him in the most endearing way possible. You were so bright, so happy, and full of life. Logan couldn't understand how someone could be like that, and he hated you for it. He thought it was so ignorant of you.

"I mean, come on, how could she be that happy all the time? It's fucking dumb. She doesn't even know me!"

That's what he said to Wade, but his roommate only laughed. He found his frustration hilarious and made fun of him constantly.

And don’t even get started on the way you spoke. Never once have you raised your voice at anyone. You always talked softly, and even if you were pissed off, you still found a way to make your words sound gentle.

The man couldn’t wrap his mind around the way you acted, you weren’t a mutant, but you damn well could have been with that forever customer service smile you wore every day.

The level of patience and understanding you held for people was insane to him, especially the amount of patience you held with him.

He was constantly telling you to fuck off, and you took no offense; you just returned that stupidly kind smile and told him that if he needed anything, you were there for him.

You had no clue what he’s done, what he's capable of, and yet you treat him with the utmost respect. And being a mutant, respect, and kindness were two things he hadn’t received in a very long time.

It made him realize things—about himself and others. He started noticing you a little more—the way you looked and the way you acted. It started out as simple confusion and disgust… the typical reactions one would have when one sees an overly happy person.

But it evolved slowly into intrigue and curiosity.

Then something else. Something he couldn't describe.

His first instinct was to push it away. To try and convince himself, he was disgusted. He did this with everything he felt, but he couldn’t keep lying to himself.

It wasn't disgust.

He couldn't name it; he wasn't ready to, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Wade had noticed the change in him, the way he looked at you, the way he started being a little less rough with the words he chose to say. He didn’t bring it up, but the shit-eating grin he gave each time Logan walked in and saw you was more than enough proof that he had picked up on it.

Of course, it only resorted to grins because the one time he opened his mouth, Logan didn’t restrain himself. He popped his claws and had to go couch shopping the next day.

Whoops.

So, with Wade keeping his mouth shut after being chewed out by Blind Al and Logan trying his best to push away the foreign feelings, it finally reached a point where he could no longer ignore them.

He didn’t understand why, of all nights, it had to be this one, but it was.

It was 3 am, and his old nightmares had come back to haunt him. He was restless, sweaty, and couldn't take another second of sleep.

It took a rinsing of the bathroom sink and a pitiful glare at his reflection for you to return his gaze.

He froze for a second.

You were wearing a large T-shirt, with a pair of shorts underneath. Your hair was messy, but it looked so soft, and your face was clear of makeup, leaving the imperfections of your skin that made you all the more beautiful.

Always wearing a smile. Always greeting him with a soft voice, sometimes a little raspy if just waking up, butnonetheless soft.

But once he rubbed his eyes and let out a tired yawn, you weren’t there anymore.

Because you were never there, you lived across the street. You were in your apartment, sleeping, with no idea that, at that moment, the man who constantly told you to fuck off realized he couldn't stop thinking about you.

The same man who would grunt, scoff, and throw away every kind gesture now realized he secretly cherished them.

He stood there for a moment, just pondering his thoughts. His eyes were still on the spot he saw you in.

His head turned to the right, seeing the digital clock that rested on the nightstand.

3:02 am.

You were asleep…. most likely asleep. You would be unhappy if he came over and woke you up, wouldn't you?

He looked back at the sink.

You could be upset, but you could also be happy. You could give him that smile. That sweet, warm smile.

It would be worth it, right? Just for that?

3:04 am

He didn’t think about it. Not even for a second. Ironically, it started raining as if to test him, but the man was determined.

He put on a jacket to cover his bare chest, threw on some random shoes, and was out the door before his mind could stop him.

3:13 am

He knocked on your apartment door. He was completely drenched from the rain. His hair was messy, his jacket sticking to his body, and his shoes were so wet that the squelching sound they made was the only thing audible.

He heard shuffling. Soft steps coming closer. He could smell your scent. It shocked him how easy it was for him to recognize it.

You unlocked the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

His mental image of you being in sleepwear, messy hair, no makeup, had been confirmed. You were beautiful.

You had a tired look, one of the many looks he wasn’t used to. But it was still a good look, and it still held your signature kindness.

He had a feeling it would.

You didn't look too shocked, just tired and confused.

You spoke. "Logan, is…? Are you okay?"

Your voice was even softer than usual, the raspiness it held only making it more comforting.

You were genuinely worried about him, and it hit him then that he was being an asshole. Making you wake up in the middle of the night, and for what? Just because he wanted to see you?

Just because of that, he should’ve given you a reason. An explanation.

He should've asked. He should have done so many things differently, but he didn’t.

His head was in the clouds, and all he could think about was you.

You. That was all.

But his expression gave away that he was in a daze, and your worry only grew.

"Logan? What's wrong?"

You stepped out into the hallway and reached a hand to him.

His heart jumped a bit when you did so. It was just a gesture—one simple act of compassion.

He wasn't worthy of that, but he couldn't resist. He didn't want to.

Your fingers barely brushed against his upper arm before he moved. He grabbed your wrist.

His grip wasn't hard. His hold was gentle, as he had no intentions of hurting you. You could’ve easily pulled your arm away if you wanted to, but you didn't.

His eyes locked with yours. He wasn't sure what possessed him, but it felt so right, so he followed his instincts.

He tugged at your wrist, causing your body to fall into him. Your chest pressed against his. His arms wrapped around you, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other resting on the small of your back.

The embrace was so sudden, and he knew the situation was far from ideal, but his senses were overflowed by your presence, your scent, your softness.

His chin rested atop your head, and his eyes fluttered closed.

It wasn’t the first time he ever hugged someone, but it was the first time he hugged someone in such a way. He held onto you tightly, his grip possessive but not painful.

He was afraid to let go.

He felt your hands press against his chest. You were probably going to push him away, he thought, and he tried to prepare himself. He told himself he would let you go because it was the right thing to do, yet he didn’t need to.

You hugged him back, and he almost lost his footing.

How long had it been since he last received a hug? Since the last time, someone held him and showed him affection?

Too long.

Your hands went inside his opened jacket and held onto him. Your fingers pressed against his skin, and your soft, warm breaths caressed his neck.

He could stay like this for eternity, and he would never grow tired of it.

Your voice reached his ears.

"Logan, did something happen?"

He had been standing there for quite a while. He wasn’t aware of how long. Time seemed to freeze around you, but he didn’t mind. He wasn't one to believe in such nonsense, but when it came to you, he was ready to accept it.

Your hand rested on his arm, and he knew you were subtly prompting him to move, and so he did.

He pulled away from the hug just enough to look at you.

Your lips were turned upwards. The corners of your eyes creased.

"Logan?"

It was then that his actions registered—how utterly close the two of you were, how intimately you were holding each other. He was already warm just from genetics alone, but now he felt everything around him heat up.

"I-"

He didn't know what to say. It was like he was back in that bar, drinking away every thought. He couldn't think. There was nothing. Nothing but the feel of your body against his.

But what truly sealed the deal was when he felt your thumb gently caress his knuckles. It was a small movement, barely noticeable, but it was centered exactly on the scars his claws made.

That little movement made his brain short-circuit. His hands twitched. His grip tightened. He held onto you with his entire body as if scared to let you go.

"What happened?"

You were patient with him. The fact that he hadn’t even answered any of your concerns said enough.

But, eventually, he did find some words to respond with. It wasn’t the answer you were searching for, but it was a response.

"Why are you always being so fucking kind?"

It was such a simple question, and yet the amount of pain it carried was overwhelming. He knew you could hear every word behind it. Every word he couldn't bring himself to say.

He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good man. He did horrible things, and sure… he made an attempt to make up for it. To be better, but it couldn’t have been enough, could it?

You were still here, looking at him with those soft eyes.

Why couldn't you look at him the way he deserved to be looked at? Like he was a monster.

Why did you have to look at him with those goddamn beautiful eyes?

"You deserve kindness, Logan. We all do."

And then, your voice became even softer and a little shaky. Your hands went back to massaging his knuckles. His scars.

"Just because you see yourself a certain way doesn’t mean the rest of us do. I see the good in you. Always have since we first met."

You spoke so softly, yet your words were heavy with emotion.

"I know it's not easy, but try to have a little more faith in yourself."

You didn’t deserve the harsh words he always threw at you. You didn’t deserve any of his anger. You didn't deserve him.

"Why?" He repeated his question, his voice strained, and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. "Why should I?"

His arms loosened their hold around you; his hands moved down your sides, and his touch feathered light. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t quite let go just yet.

You paid it no mind. Only staring back into his eyes with the same kindness he was so used to, the one he had grown to treasure.

"You have a right to feel the way you do, Logan. And I can't claim to understand what you've been through. I can't begin to imagine. But you are a good man. A little rough around the edges, maybe, but you’ve shown me time and time again that you're trying."

A smile crept its way onto your face, and a soft giggle escaped past your lips.

Now, to be fair, he was used to hearing your laughter. With your… odd sense of humor, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. But, this would be one of the firsts to add to his collection.

The one reserved for him and him only.

Your laughter wasn’t loud, or annoying, or anything like Wade's. It was soft, sweet, and oh-so pleasant.

You were looking at him. Staring up at him with such love and warmth. You didn't even realize it, but he did.

"Besides, who wouldn't be a little grouchy waking up to that handsome face every morning?"

And, now, he was repulsed by the unwelcome vision of a certain masked man making his way into his head. He was so disgusted by the thought he didn’t bother responding. He didn't want to.

So, instead, he moved.

He had a habit of moving on his own and not thinking about it. It went from his hands going to your sides, and now, his hands reaching out to press against the door behind you.

You were pinned against the door, and the way you looked at him didn’t change. Of course, it didn't. Your eyes were always kind. They always were.

You were leaning against the door. Looking at him, waiting.

And he stared back.

He was so close, and he was tempted to pull away. To take a step back and leave. It would be the best for both of you; at least, he thinks so.

He couldn't give you anything.

He had nothing.

There was only himself. His body. His mind. His past.

His claws, too, if that counted for anything.

But, besides those, there was nothing.

He wasn’t a bad man, but he wasn't good either. Not like you were. He couldn’t possibly begin to match you, not even if he tried.

Which is why he had no intention of trying.

Yet, even as he thought that, his body moved even closer. The dog tags he had never taken off since he was given them hung loosely, dangling in front of your face.

One of your hands was on his chest, the other gripping onto the material of his shirt.

"Logan."

You spoke his name so softly. Almost a whisper, and yet, the sound of it was all his senses were focused on.

Your gaze shifted between his eyes and lips, and the hand that had been holding onto his shirt moved, reaching up to his shoulder.

The touch was light, as if hesitant, and it caused him to lean even closer.

It was so close. You were so close. You had been before, but never like this. Never in the way he wanted.

He wanted you so badly.

And you were right there. Looking at him with those eyes, with a soft, tender smile, and with an expression he didn't recognize.

He knew that was an invitation. You were always an open book, and your body language was no different.

And it wasn't the first time you did so.

There were many times when you looked at him. Your eyes trailing over his face. Your gaze went downwards, lingering before you snapped out of it and looked away.

He always saw it, always knew it was there, but he just chose to ignore it. He wasn’t in the right mind, then. He was just another broken man, struggling to get by, trying his best.

Trying to find some meaning in his life.

But, even now, he was still hesitant. Even after coming all the way here and making his intentions clear, he struggled with it.

"Are you sure?"

Because you were so much better than him.

Because he could still remember the day the two of you met. How much of an asshole he was, how rude, how angry.

It wasn’t until the seventh time you approached him that he realized that he had met someone who genuinely, wholeheartedly cared.

It wasn't until the twentieth time you approached him that he finally accepted it.

He could never forget the way you smiled and spoke to him, even though he had given you no reason to.

"Hi, Logan!"

You would say.

"Good morning!"

You would wave.

"Have a nice day, Logan."

You would nod, even though the man himself chose to ignore you. Goddamn it. You were so much better than him.

Much purer. Much more innocent.

You had a heart of gold, and a soul as white as snow. You were so good, so kind, and the thought of soiling you, of ruining your light with his darkness, it scared him.

It was the sole reason he didn't give in, even now, with you offering yourself to him.

He didn't want to ruin you.

"Yes."

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Your eyes were so kind. So full of love, and the same emotion reflected back in his own.

But, even with the clear sign of assurance, he still felt the need to create one last line of defense.

With the hand against the door, he peeled it back enough to have your eyes catch sight of the fist it made.

In a millisecond, he unleashed his claws and slammed his fist against the door, the sharp adamantium easily slicing through the wood, causing the door to crack.

And, yet, no reaction. Not a single flinch, not a wince, not even a hitch of breath.

You weren't afraid. Not at all. Even as the claws were mere inches from your face, you weren't scared.

The corners of your mouth twitched. Upwards, and it soon bloomed into a bright smile.

He retracted his claws, and gave you another once-over, just to be sure, and you responded by lifting your hand, grasping the metal chain hanging from his neck.

Your fingers grazed against the cool metal, and your smile softened before turning into a small grin.

"For a man who states he isn’t scared of anything, you sure have a lot of defense mechanisms, Logan."

Teasing. That was a new one for you.

He liked it.

"Say it again." Now, finally, you showed a different expression. Confusion mixed with curiosity. You were wondering what he meant. "My name."

"Logan."

For you, his actions were mere seconds. You had no time to process the feeling of his breath against your lips. The feeling of his stubble tickling your skin. The feeling of his warm, dry lips pressed against yours.

But, for him, it was a slow, steady motion. He took his time. He pulled you closer, his hands moving from the door and cupping the back of your head and your waist.

The kiss was soft. Gentle. Nothing rushed.

He held you like you were fragile. Like you were made of porcelain and could break at any moment. He could, theoretically, but he would rather go through Cassandra’s entire repertoire of torture than hurt you.

He lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck, his own pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin.

You tasted exactly how you were. Pure. Sweet.

Like heaven.

He was sure he was leaving that of the bitter alcohol he had downed on your lips, but you didn't seem fussy about it.

Not that he could focus on anything else, anyway.

He was too distracted by the way his tongue danced with yours.

Too focused on the taste of your mouth.

Too distracted by the way your hands made themselves a home in his wet hair. They would tug every once in a while, releasing a groan he hadn’t known was there.

He was too distracted to care.

He was too lost in your scent. Wade always called him that character from that shity vampire movie due to his nose.

He always disagreed until you happened to mention the resemblance. Then, and only then, did he see the logic.

And you saw the logic here, too—the logic of how good you melted together. Experiencing it now made him question his decision to stay away.

If it was always going to be this good, this intoxicating, he should’ve done it a long time ago.

He should've taken the chance.

It would've saved the two of you a lot of frustration, and a lot of headaches.

But it didn't matter. He was here now.

And, as his foot broke into the door, mouth still latched onto yours, with him figuring his way about your apartment, he thought:

It doesn't matter.

As long as I’m here.

As long as you’re in my arms.

It doesn't matter.

Fortunately, that meant he didn’t have to wake up to that toupee-stapled face every morning, as he had so dreadfully imagined.

Unfortunately, it also meant that the next time he saw Wade, he would have to deal with him talking his ears off about what had transpired.

But, for now, he could live with that.

He was more focused on the fact on making sure you weren’t regretting your choice.

Because he sure as fuck didn’t.

[rosenclaws]

Cute || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: Sometimes dating Logan comes with its difficulties. Especially when you feel like you just can't compare.

warnings: fem!reader, insecurity, jean slander im sorry bby but ur a plot device for this fic.

wc: 2.4k

a/n: I'm gonna be so honest I had this idea last night and I thought it would be fun to write but I finished it and I really hate my writing for some reason this week so I'm not happy with it but I wanted to get something out so here it is ig 😭

You never should have eavesdropped. You didn't mean to. But you heard Logan and Jean talking and you just...you couldn't resist.

Logan. Well he was everything to you. You never dreamed of being the one to wake up next to him. To be the one who gets to kiss him, to call him yours. You pined after man for a long time. Ever since you stumbled your way to the mansion Logan had invaded your heart. Powers that felt like nothing compared to the omega level mutants just down the hall.

Super senses and magnetic sensitivity that could barely movie a fridge magnet. People could shapeshift, teleport, and turn to metal. Compared to them you were no one, just another mutant living at the mansion.

For years you watched him from afar, falling deeper in love with him every day. Despite being so private Logan was gossiped about fairly often. The kids were drawn to him and his protective nature. The stories spread until he was something of an urban legend walking among commoners.

He’s over 150 years old who knows what he’s done in all that time. Stories of his heroics, his dark moments, his triumphs and his devastating losses. You tried not to pay any mind to them but you just couldn’t help yourself. He is the Wolverine. He may not lead the X-Men or enjoy the spotlight but he is undeniably a legend.

Whether he wants to be or not.

He didn’t even know your name, or at least that’s what you thought. It was something out of a fairytale the first time you two truly talked. The mansion was on lockdown because of a blizzard but you needed to get stuff for the lab. It was urgent and it couldn't wait. You were going to go alone but Logan had stopped you before you could even take one step out of the doors.

"Now where do you think you're going?" You yelped at the sound of his voice. Your ears folded back as you spun to see Logan standing behind you.

"Out." You said shyly. This is the longest conversation you think you've had with him. Your eyes glanced up to meet his but you could only look for a second. He just made you so nervous.

"Out? In 10ft of snow? You're going to freeze your damn ass off sweetheart." He raised an eyebrow as he gestured to the heavy snowfall outside. You felt your face heat up at the nickname.

"I'll be fine, promise." You bundled your coat and headed down the driveway, your ears perked up as you heard a second set of footsteps behind you.

"Logan, I said I was fine." You stopped and stared at the white snow in front of you. His heavy footsteps caught up to yours as he stood in front of you. Snow fell on top of his poufy hair, a cigar sat in his mouth.

"I'm sure you can take care of yourself, but I won't let you. So this better be worth it." Without another word he turned and continued down the driveway, leaving you stunned and rushing to catch up to him.

How he knew you were leaving was a mystery, you never asked. But you keep that moment close to your heart. By the time you returned to the mansion you were covered in snow and your face was freezing but you didn't care. Not when Logan had given you his jacket half way through the trip.

As you shake the snow off your hair you see Logan watching you, he's stripped down to just a t-shirt and your eyes dart to his arms. He walks up to you, a small smirk on his lips as your heart stops in your chest. You could smell his cologne and it was utterly overwhelming.

"Cute." He hummed. He walked away, whistling lowly as he headed back to his room. Oh it just wasn't fair how easily he could turn to you to a puddle of mush.

Logan continued to flirt and find ways to be around you, to talk to you. Until he actually asked you out on a date. Taking you to a diner just outside of town and buying you a milkshake. A little old fashioned to the point you asked if he had done this back in the 50's too. He just rolled his eyes at you but you saw that little smile he tried to hide.

You could barely believe that the Wolverine wanted you and honestly neither could some of the other mansions residents. You tried to block them out as best as you could but your super hearing made it hard. But Logan could hear them too and he always did his best to soothe your worries. But sometimes the words buried themselves under your skin, wrapping around your heart and they just won't let go.

There's...one thing that has always bothered you, maybe it's why you let those words get to you so much. Logan loves you, he's said it before and you know it's hard for him to be open and vulnerable. You kiss, you hold hands, you do...other things behind closed doors. But there's one word that just seems to haunt you.

Cute.

Logan calls you cute all the time and you like when he does but that's all he calls you. Not beautiful, pretty, gorgeous, stunning. Just cute. Your quiet nature and shitty powers already make it hard for people to take you seriously sometimes and for Logan to just see you as cute, it hurt.

You're not a literal goddess like Ororo or stunning like Jean or beautiful like Marie. It was slowly killing you inside every time he called you that. But you kept it to yourself, you couldn't lose him. You loved him and you just had to believe he loved you too.

Which brings you to this stupid conversation with Jean. She was never your biggest fan and you think it has something to do with the fact that Logan used to chase after her. It was no secret that Logan had a thing for Jean since the day he showed up at the mansion. But that was years ago and he promised he was over it, that he's moved on.

So why is it so hard to see them together?

You really didn't mean to intrude, you were just looking for Logan. Your ears perking up when you heard his voice coming from the kitchen. As you neared closer you heard that he wasn't alone.

"You seem happier." Jeans voice was light but you could sense a hint of hostility as she talks.

You peaked into the kitchen and saw them together, alone. Logan was leaning against the counter with a root beer and Jean was next to him, a little too close for your liking. You should leave, you shouldn't listen this is an invasion of privacy. But your feet stayed rooted to the ground. Unmoving.

"I am." Logan says as he takes a sip of his drink.

"Look Logan, we're old friends right? So you can be honest with me." Jean places her hand on his wrist and he doesn't move.

"Are you sure about her? I mean the two of you together, it's a bit odd isn't it."

"Odd? The hell is that supposed to mean?" Logan narrows his eyes as he tries to understand what Jean was saying. She laughs and you feel your heart clench.

"She's like your pet Logan, cute but not very serious. She's not what you need." There's that damn word again. Cute. Her voice cruel and uncaring. As if she was just stating the obvious. And maybe she was. There's the knife, stabbing right into your heart.

"Be honest Logan, is she really what you want?" She asks. You wait for his response. You wait and wait. The knife twisting with each passing second. Shredding your heart to pieces as he stays quiet.

"Stay out of my head Jean." He growls, slamming the now empty bottle onto the counter.

Is that all he has to say? Really? The knife falls to the ground a bloody mess, leaving your heart completely and utterly broken. Suddenly the once comforting smell of his cologne is suffocating.

So you just run.

Run far away from the mansion, from Logan and Jean. From everybody. You just run and run until you can't anymore. You bury your face in your hands and let the tears fall. Tears of anger and hurt and sadness stream down your face. Who were you kidding? Logan is the guy of your dreams and now you're waking up. A pet. Is that really how everyone sees you? Some cute little thing to entertain Logan until he moves on to someone else? You don't know how long you're out in the small forest behind the mansion.

You slowly walk back, needing to just lock yourself in your room for the foreseeable future. The sun is gone and you've definitely missed dinner. There's a few lights left on by the time you reach the open clearing. Your arms are wrapped around your self as you keep your head low. You just feel purely defeated. You slip in the back door and up the stairs to your room. As you place your hand on your doorknob you hear a very angry Logan.

"Where the fuck have you been?!"

"Nowhere." You snap as you open your door and try to close it in his face. He slams his hand on the door to stop you. He follows you inside and slams the door shut.

"Nowhere? I looked everywhere for you. No one knew were you went. Do you know how worried I was?" He growls, the veins on his neck are bulging. You roll your eyes and it ticks Logan off even more.

"What the fuck has gotten into you?"

"Sorry is your little pet misbehaving?" You snap, your fist balling in anger as you finally face him. Logan's eyes widen when he sees the tears in your eyes.

"What?"

"I heard you and Jean in the kitchen Logan." You wipe your eyes as you slowly step closer to him. "She's just a pet, be serious Logan." You mock in anger.

"Trust me that's not the first time I've heard that before, but you." You shove his chest but he doesn't move, he's watching you. Stunned by the outburst.

"You just sat there and didn't say anything. Nothing Logan!" You shout, not caring who heard you. He grabs your wrists and pulls you close to him. He's never looked so serious before.

"Jean is full of shit and you know it sweetheart."

"Do I?" You rest your head against his chest. The anger slowly draining as defeat takes its place.

"Logan when was the last time you called me anything other than cute?" You ask. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

"Do you understand what hearing cute and only cute feels like? Is that really the only compliment you can think to give me? Do you not love me?" He lets go of your hands and you push him away.

You fall onto your bed and cry. Logan feels sick to his stomach. He didn't know its all bothered you so much, he thought he was doing alright protecting you. But he's failed you. He drops to his knees and tries to pull your hands away from your face.

"Sweetheart, of course I love you." He mumbles.

"I just feel so small sometimes. Standing next to you, being with you. Logan we were never meant to be together."

"What are you talking about?" You finally lift your head up and Logan wastes no time in wiping away your tears. You are everything Logan wants. Meant to be together? He wants to be with you and that's good enough for him.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" "Yes, prettier than anyone else in the world." He says without missing a beat.

"So why have you never said anything?" Logan sighs as he rubs his thumb gently across your cheek.

You're everything to him. You were never a rebound or a pet, god he hates that word now. Logan...he's not the kind of man you'd ever look at and think cute or soft. He is definitely not the kind of man to be loved by you. You're so gentle and kind and so cute it makes his heart hurt. He's never experienced that before. He's not the guy who gets the pretty sweet girl. But then he was and shit, it feels good. So fuck the rumors and the gossip.

"Someone like you shouldn't be with someone like me, I'm not the hero people think I am. So when someone like you loves me, it's a little hard to believe sometimes." He tilts your head up to press a kiss to your lips.

"You're cute," He kisses your cheek softly.

"and pretty," Another kiss.

"and beautiful and gorgeous and so much more." You let out a small giggle as his bread scratches your face.

He nuzzles into you until you open yourself up. He wraps his arms around your waist and hoists you up off the bed. Spinning around until he's got you in his lap.

"Cute isn't an insult. Just seeing you smile makes me feel like a fucking teenager." Logan bumps his nose against yours.

"I didn't answer Jean because I didn't want to. It's no one else's damn business how I feel about you."

"You really think all that?" You say shyly, biting your lip as the doubt still creeps into your head. But Logan pushes it away with another searing kiss.

"Fuck yeah I do. You're everything I could ever want." He frowns as he notices the worry on your face. He would give anything to make it better.

"And more." He adds on. He sees the smile grow and he feels the weight lift off his chest.

"Come on, don't hide that pretty smile from me." He grabs your chin so he can get a better look at you.

He makes a silent promise to never let you feel like this again. Anger stirs inside but he keeps himself as calm as he can. If he had his way he'd rip into anyone who feels like spreading their stupid gossip. But for your sake he won't. But he makes no promises the next time he hears some punk kid open their damn mouth about HIS girl.

"I love you Logan." You hum as you duck your head to rest under his chin, wanting to be held by your boyfriend. His arms wrap around you, holding you close for as long as you need.

"I love you too sweetheart, my gorgeous girl."

[bumpkinspice0]

Take a Bullet

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Mutant!FemReader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: “I’d raise hell. I’d tear down whatever took you away…but you’re still here. If the price of that is death, then I’ll pay it every goddamn time.” he lets the words linger. It almost stings when they start to sink in. Did he really think this was all he had to offer? Only his invulnerability, his strength? Of course it was. It’s all anyone ever told him he was worth. All anyone ever wanted from him. He did exactly what thought he should. What he was made for. Logan always thought he was anything except a man. An animal. Another expendable tool. OR Logan never told you he couldn't die, and it scares you how far he's willing to go to keep you safe.

AN: Just the briefest sprinkle of smut. Didn't feel right to go full feral in this one. This is another one that's vaguely tied to my first Logan fic HERE. Totally not required reading, reader just has the same powers and codename cause I'm lazy. She's an earthmover called Dozer. The GIF choice is incredibly unserious but I couldn't not

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, injury, shock, Hurt/comfort, angst (obvi), Logan has some low self worth guys, Confessions of love, Protective!Logan, Smut, Tender sex

AO3 if you prefer to read there

Logan Masterlist

_______

You weren’t new to fighting. Hell, you’d been doing it most of your life. You were an X-man after all— but this was getting ridiculous. 

They just kept coming.

You faced down the brotherhood countless times, fought gods and mad scientists— but a few dozen humans with guns was proving to be the most exhausting task you faced with the team. Their ranks were depleting, that much was true, but holy shit was this getting old.

“Dozer!” you hear Scott shout your codename from the left. “Barrier on the east entrance, quicksand for the ones approaching from the west!”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” you, a little less than enthusiastically, respond before plunging your fist into the dirt to change the very earth to your will.

As an earth-mover, you have the wonderful task of being both on defense and offense— well, mostly defense. A lot of defense. You could put up walls and literally stop people in their tracks. If all the firepower was focused outside, the job could be finished inside.

This was a prison break, after all. 

“The last of them are out!” Jean’s voice crackles in your ear. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

The last of the MRD facilities is finally falling. It’d been over a year since they’d been defunded and mutant registration was banned. Still, hate always found a way to limp on.

And limp on with a few hundred guns at that.

A stray bullet whizzes past your ear as you move behind a newly erected stone wall. You’d been at this for hours. You're tired. You’re slower and it’s making all of this a hell of a lot more dangerous.

“We need some support over here!” Scott screams into his comm, sliding behind the shelter next to you.

“North gate is clear. I’m coming to you!” You almost sigh in relief at the sound of Ororo’s voice. She’d be tasked with taking care of all other possible exits while you and Scott got the main entrance. With the power of flight and hurricane-level winds at her fingertips… Well, you always thought Storm could take care of herself better than the rest of the team.

The barrage of bullets stops as soon as there’s a crack of thunder, all of the armed men looking up to the sky to see the goddess that brought their demise. In an instant, tyrannical winds start to sweep through their ranks.

“Almost out!” Jean announces in your ear.

“Dozer, give them a clear path!” Scott orders you, jumping out from behind your barrier to help Storm thin the herd of armed men that waited.

You call to the dirt beneath your feet, pulling up several jagged walls of rock to protect the entrance and path to the Blackbird. They’re sloppy and uneven, but they’ll do for cover. You catch just a glimpse of the team through the cracks in the rock. Somehow, Logan’s eyes find yours in the fraction of a second you have.

“Spare anyone you can. Let’s clear the last of these scumbags out before we evacuate.” Scott orders through the comm set. You want to argue back and groan in protest. The mission was complete. The prisoners were out and heading for safety, but you knew he was right— Time to cripple MRD once and for all. 

With any final strength you can muster, you send a shockwave through the battlefield, several agents falling in its wake. You quickly enclose whatever parts of their bodies in rock that you can. You just have to immobilize them and there are only a handful left. It’s almost over.

“Remind me never to piss you off, sweetheart.” a familiar gruff voice cheekily says behind you. In a flash, he’s at your side— Logan. If the situation were different, you’d have kissed him. Too bad there’s a task at hand.

“Oh, you should know never to piss me off by now.” you chuckled back, doing your best to multitask in the chaos of it all. 

Logan jumps in front of you defensively. He was against you being the outside offense since the beginning, likely just because he couldn’t be there if you needed him. In the handful of months since you’d been together, he’d proven to be a rather protective partner. The more you learned about him, the more you understood why. He’d only had a small handful of things happen to him that were actually good. You did your best to be one of them.

“Two dozen left at most,” Scott shouts in the dwindling chaos. 

Looking out at the jagged battlefield, Scott’s estimate seemed to be correct. This could be over in a matter of seconds, and your job would finally be done. You could take the last of them out with the same move you’d just done… that is if you had one more in you still.

You reach your weary hands out and call to the earth one final time. Cripple them. Immobilize them. The ground starts to rumble under your command. 

You're so focused on your finishing move that you don’t hear it. Storm warning you all reinforcements are coming up from the south, directly behind you.

“DOZE!” It’s Logan’s voice that pulls you out of your concentration. 

You only have a split second to turn your head to see him jumping for you. He pushes you to the ground, your body skidding a few feet away. There’s a deafening ring of new gunfire before it’s immediately silenced by a new jagged wall of rock you rip out of the ground. With a crack of lightning, Storm rushes over to Scott’s side, quickly followed by Rouge and Kurt. You scramble to your feet, ready to join them, but Logan doesn’t move. He just stands there, back to you, completely stone still. 

��L-Logan?” You dare to take a small step toward him, afraid of what you’ll see.

He starts to turn around, his movements jerky and stiff. It hurts him to move. 

You attempt to hide the horrified gasp that escapes your lips, covering your mouth with your hands at the sight of him. Your eyes immediately meet his and you can almost feel it through his gaze— the excruciating pain.

You weren’t fast enough to stop them.

Bullet holes peppered his entire body. God, even his face— the bullets still sat embedded in his metal skull. The blood pouring out of each new hole in his body was starting to stain his suit— painting over his skin with red. He choked out a pained sound that almost sounded like your name before collapsing to his knees and falling face-first at your feet.

“Logan!” You immediately drop down and pull him into your arms, the battle around you now completely forgotten. You erect three more small walls on your remaining sides. The team could handle the rest. They’d be fine. Logan would be fine. He just needed time to heal, and you’ll give it to him.

You cradle his head in your arms. All hope disappears when you look into his eyes. 

There was… nothing. 

Those warm, hazel eyes that were always so inviting are now cold and blank. Lifeless. Streams of blood marked his rugged face you adored so much, a bullet in his forehead and two through his left cheek. You’d seen death a handful of times in this rotten job. You’d just never seen it in someone you loved. 

You can’t help the wail that escapes when you pull him in. You clutch his lifeless body, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

Yes, Logan healed, he barely aged, but could he cure death? He’d never mentioned it. How could a mutation still possibly work after you died? It couldn’t. Logan was dead. He’s dead because of you. Because you weren’t fast enough to stop this.

You only faintly register the battle falling silent around you. The commanding voices of your friends at least tell you that you’ve won. There was no joy in this small victory for you. Not while you clung to the body of your now dead lover. 

You jump at the sound of several metallic pings within your space. Has someone breached your quickly constructed walls? You pull back and gasp at an entirely new sight. 

Logan was healing, newly formed tissue and bone pushing the bullets out of his body one by one. The final ones to leave are three that marked his face. As soon as they’re gone, there’s light in his eyes again.

His whole body arches in your arms as he heaves in his first gasping breath. His hands grasp onto you, finding anything to ground him. You can’t bring yourself to say anything comforting, shock grabbing hold of your vocal cords. 

He’d come back to life in your arms in a matter of seconds. 

He takes a few steadying breaths before his eyes finally find yours. 

“Are you okay?” His voice is shaken, almost ragged. 

You still can’t force yourself to speak. You only look at him, only able to see the blood that streaked across his face in every direction. His blood. He was still covered in his own blood. The hole in his forehead is still mending itself back together and he’s asking if you're okay?

He sits up from your lap, his hands gently resting on your arms. 

“Hey,” he tilts your chin up to look him in the eye. Warm and inviting again. Full of life, “Talk to me.”

You’re not sure how long it is before you can force words out of your throat, but eventually, you do.

“You died.” 

The silence that follows is haunting. Suddenly, it feels like there’s an ocean between the two of you. You should be the one comforting him through this, yet here he is, cradling your face in his hands, suddenly unable to make eye contact. He’d saved you, he was alive, you were alive, yet you feel like something in you changed. A small piece of you died with him just then. Unequivocally fear that you could never forget. He died. You just watched him die.

“But you didn’t.” He says it with no regret in his voice. No pain. 

He knew his actions would likely be fatal. He sacrificed himself to save you. But was it worth it? Was it worth it to watch him die in front of you?

And knowing Logan… he’d do it again without hesitation. 

“Hey, guys!” It’s Kurt's voice that pulls you out of your little world, calling for you just beyond the walls. You quickly lower them to see the rest of your fellow X-Men standing in wait. How long have you both been sitting here?

“Jesus, what happened?” Rouge exclaims, clearly referring to Logan still caked in blood. His blood. 

He was still fucking covered in his own blood. 

You quickly get up, not sparing Logan a single glance, and brush past your teammates as fast as you can. You board the Blackbird alone, hugging yourself in the corner. None of them come after you, and truthfully, you don’t want them to. 

Your face collapses into your hands, sobs racking your whole body.

______

The flight home was dead quiet. Even the rescued prisoners said almost nothing except a quick thank you once you dropped them off at a secure mutant-run location just past the border. Logan was smart enough not to sit directly next to you. You’re not sure if you're relieved or mortified by that fact. No, no, you needed space and he was giving it to you.

You still felt his eyes on you the whole time. 

He may not have sat right at your hip, but he was in eyeshot of you at all times. Logan’s emotions were always so palpable to you. You can always just feel him. He was worried. 

Ororo was the first to approach you with a quiet hello and a gentle hand on your knee.

“What happened out there?” she asked somewhat hesitantly.

You took your sweet time answering, shock still grabbing some part of your mind and urging you to just keep staring at your feet like you had been the entire time. 

“I saw him die, ‘Ro.” you eventually answered. 

You swear you felt her touch tense a little.

“But Logan can’t die.” Maybe she was holding back a laugh, you thought briefly. You’d been with this man for months, and you had no idea his healing factor was so advanced. You were a child pouting in the corner over seemingly nothing— but it was everything.

“But I didn’t know that, ‘Ro,” you spat back at her. “I didn’t know that.”

And, of course, she pulls you into a hug with a comforting warmth only Ororo Munroe seemed to have. It was stupid of you to think she’d mock you for something like this. 

You’re in your bedroom now, sitting on the bed with your knees curled into your chest, stripped out of your suit and freshly showered. Logan was in the bathroom just a few feet away, brushing his teeth. Just fucking brushing his teeth like nothing happened. Like his soul hadn’t left his body and you had to fucking watch. 

It wasn’t just that, though. It wasn’t the fact that he was brushing off the fact that he’d died and come back to life. 

You loved him. 

It’d been a good handful of months, and neither of you had said the big one yet.  People always said you and Logan were the same kind of stubborn, probably what drew you to each other in the first place. Both skittish and afraid to ruin something by going too far. But it’s gone past that point for both of you now, hasn’t it? What risks are there left to take? It took seeing the light draining from his eyes to realize you loved this man. God, why can’t anything in your life be easy?

You feel the mattress sink behind you, but still don’t turn to look at him. His body shifts with a heavy sigh.

“I can’t…we can’t go to bed like this.” There’s that gentle pleading in his voice you’d only heard a handful of times. When he woke up from nightmares, mostly.

A heavy hand comes to rest over yours and to your surprise, you don’t pull away. You finally turn to face him… and there he is. As rugged and beautiful as he always is. Not a speck of blood left. No holes in his body. The familiar hair of his bare chest already grown back in the same familiar patterns. The man you loved, as good as new.

With a deep breath, you ask your first question.

“Have you died before?”

He’s taken aback at first but eventually answers.

“Yes.”

“How many times?”

“I’ve lost count.”

“Logan—” you bury your face in your hands, not sure if you are willing away tears or an irritated groan. 

He reaches out for you, ready to pull you into him before he decides against it.

“I’m sorry,” he simply says. 

“Logan, it’s not—”

“I thought you knew,” He quickly cuts you off. “You knew how old I was… what I’d been through. I figured you knew.”

In retrospect, it seems obvious. He’d fought in wars, been ripped apart and put back together, he’s hundreds of years old, for God's sake. But what normal person would ever correlate that to complete and total resurrection? You knew Logan had suffered… but this…

“You’re okay and I’m okay. That’s all that matters.” He reaches out to you again. You stand up from the bed and start to pace before he can touch you.

“It’s not about that! It’s not about being okay now— it’s that I had to watch you. I saw you die. I saw you suffer because of me and I—” You cut yourself off before admitting to your newest and most terrifying secret. “You can’t do that again. I can’t watch you go through that again.”

He just sits there, looking up at you like a scolded puppy.

“I can’t promise that.” He says without an ounce of regret in his voice.

“Then you’re going to have to try.”

You see a flame flicker in his eyes then before he looks away. He sits there, hands squeezing into white knuckled fists on his lap before he releases them with a deep breath.

“You can’t just ask me not to protect you.” 

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“You did tonight.”

You turn away again, trying to keep yourself from screaming. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t fucking get it.

You pause, facing the wall adjacent to the bed, and take a few deep breaths before daring to continue. 

“I don’t want you to just be a human shield for me.”

“I’m not…I will do anything as long as it means you stay alive.” He’d finally raised his voice, the tendons in his neck tensing from what little restraint he had. “You have no idea… No idea what I’d do.”

And finally, his nonchalant attitude toward this monumental thing started to make sense. What he’d done, sacrificing himself for you— it meant nothing to him. A blip in his long existence. What’s a little more pain to it all? Logan never gave a shit about himself, you already knew that— but the people he cared about…he’d move mountains for them.

“I’d raise hell. I’d tear down whatever took you away… but you’re still here. If the price of that is death, then I’ll pay it every goddamn time.” he lets the words linger. It almost stings when they start to sink in.

Did he really think this was all he had to offer? Only his invulnerability, his strength? Of course it was. It’s all anyone ever told him he was worth. All anyone ever wanted from him. He did exactly what thought he should. What he was made for. Logan always thought he was anything except a man. An animal. Another expendable tool. 

You have to show him he’s more than that. More than some blunt object. More than a weapon. He’s a man… the man you love.

You pull at his wrist, urging him to lean into you. He does, his arms circling around your shoulders and yours sneaking up around his back.

“Logan… you still don’t get it…but I guess I’m not getting it right either,” you start gently, running your hands soothingly up his back. “I’m not saying I’m not happy to be alive. That we’re both alive…but…I can’t be entirely grateful because…because I watched the man I love die tonight.”

You feel him tense around you. 

“Just for a moment, I thought I lost you. I lost you and it was my fault. You’re not just something that’s expendable. You’re a man. A man that I— And I’d never get to tell you…” You trail off, the thought of it is too unbearable. 

He doesn’t let you bury your face in his chest like you wanted, hiding yourself from his searing gaze. Instead, his hands come up to cradle your face, gently craning your neck back to look at him. You were right to want to hide away from him, his eyes are more desperately burning than you’d ever seen. 

He holds you there, unmoving, unspeaking. Just boring into your soul with a million words that his mouth could never say. You don’t need him to speak. Those deep pools of hazel and topaz say it all.

In a way, Logan took the first step. He took a few dozen bullets for you, endured unspeakable pain and the first thing he did when he could breathe again was ask if you were okay— what is that if not love?

You don’t recall the last time a kiss felt more natural. Kissing Logan always felt right, but this was different. Whatever words he couldn’t say, he was pouring into this kiss. An all-consuming embrace. A silent promise. His own way of saying he loved you back.

Logan was always a man of action rather than words. 

He pulls you into him, holding you flush against his body with a desperate moan and a need to have you impossibly closer. He cradles you like a treasure, tongue coming out to explore your own.

He pulls you down to the bed, hands starting to desperately paw at your whole body. You straddle his lap, cupping his jaw so tightly you fear hurting him. As if you ever could. Your shirt’s discarded in some blinding flurry of motion, his lips immediately trailing all over your chest as soon as you're exposed to him.

Logan was always a lustful and sometimes feral lover. It was always something that was intoxicating about him. This was more than that, though. There was a sense of desperation in his touch— a need. A need to have you closer. To touch you. To taste you. To have you just feel how much he needed you.

How much he loved you back.

He brings you down to the bed, pulling off your sleep shorts before you can even get a breath in. You rise to meet him once he’s discarded his own pants and straddle his lap again. He pulls you back into him as you sink down over him, your cunt stretching to his familiar girth.

“Don’t leave me again,” you plead as your hands reach up to cradle his face, tears pricking at your eyes. “Don’t ever, ever do that again.”

“Okay,” He says passively, dropping his mouth down to nip at your neck. “F-for you I’ll… Okay…Okay…”

It’s not a promise, not really. But it’s a start. 

You both find a rhythm here, pushing and pulling into each other in ways that were already familiar and somehow completely new at the same time. It’ll never be the same after tonight. Whatever you and Logan are, it’s something entirely new. Equal parts thrilling and terrifying.

Love always is.

It’s hours, it’s days, it’s… You don’t really fucking care. An eternity with Logan inside you would still not be enough, but eventually, you both find solace in your pillows, your bodies and hearts weary from… everything. 

You both lay there, finally still and the initial emotions quelled. There was still so much more to talk about, so much more to say… but not tonight. Not right now.

“Do you ever remember anything… when it happens?” you find yourself asking, your fingers lazily brushing through his facial hair.

He says nothing at first, hand reaching up to yours and bringing it down for a kiss.

“No. Never. But… waking up to you wasn’t half bad.” 

You flinch again at the memory of those empty eyes.

“I don’t want to see that happen to you again.”

“I can’t promise that, darlin’.” He reiterates from earlier.

“I’m not asking for a promise… I’m just asking you to try.”

He pulls you into him, resting his chin on top of your head and his hand gently stroking up and down your arm. It’ll take time, but you’ll show him. You’ll show Logan his life is worth something.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he says, placing a kiss on your head, “l’ll try. For you, I’ll try.”

[cusimmrbrightside]

I have always liked the idea of the school for mutants being very literally a school, and I know yes it is but I mean in the sense of if you want to be an X-men, you have to be a teacher. They have exams at the end of years, they have Ofsted checks (for those who don’t know what they are, it’s essentially people coming to check that the school is good at being a school) and they have teachers for every subject, which brings me to my next point;

“I’m Right You’re Wrong, Here’s What The X-Men (‘97 specifically) Would Teach As Subjects”.

(Also this is based off of UK school system but I use American terms like “seniors” and “AP” and “Midterms”)

Maths Teacher Gambit is surprising, for a guy most assume to not being entirely smart, an idiot goof off who’s the comedic relief. But you need to know numbers to gamble, and that he does with being very well versed in mathematics way past an AP level. He’s made the promise for every senior class that he will teach them to play blackjack on the final day, and has only ever lost once. Which is when the rule of “no betting real money” came into place.

English teacher Jean reminds me of the kind of teacher who would let the social outcasts into her class for their lunch breaks. The kids more likely to be bullied and she will fight tooth and nail to make sure those kids bullies don’t come into that classroom. they’re loud and shout and shouldn’t really be in there but no one has to know and she certainly won’t be telling them to leave any time soon.

Physics teacher Magneto is very specific to my highschool experience I’ll be honest. I had a physics teacher who was an actual Dr with a PHD and he hated being there. His classroom has (well, had since the building was knocked down about 5 years ago now) this one cabinet that was never fully shut, it was always open just about an inch or two, and he’d stand with his foot hovering just above it and then slam down on it whenever we got too loud so the noise would shut us up. That’s very magneto coded. Erik Lehnsherr would purposefully make the cabinet always a little open so he can do that.

Biology teacher morph is just a funny concept, a person whose physical form and change and morph into just about anything. They are considered one of the “fun” teachers, you could easily convince them to let you watch a movie all class as long as it was biology centred, but with classics like Osmosis Jones, you’re not stuck watching a documentary about animals giving birth.

Chemistry teacher Storm does not fuck about with children’s education. She is not strict by any means whatsoever, she just will not bend to someone saying they want to watch a film or should do a practical instead of theory. She has a set curriculum. She knows what she will be doing by the first week of the summer holidays and already has the room set up all pretty and organised.

Geography teacher Scott has the unfortunate job of telling his students that, they just won’t be looking at memorising country flags and politics. But hey!! Rocks are cool!! Beach shores are cool! Lake formations are cool! He’s the vice principal and designated nerd teacher. He once beat the elite four for a student on their copy of Pokémon Red because the student promised they’d do well in their midterms. Yes, he was in his 30s when the game came out, he doesn’t care.

History teacher Logan is a walking fun facts book. He’s exhausted, goes on smoke breaks on every gap of time he has, dislikes his job and will randomly get passionate about one specific topic, and will then dedicate his next 4 classes to that topic. Having been through a lot of modern history with personal experiences, he’s able to bring a lot of souvenirs to show his classes. Bullets, helmets, clothes he once wore hundreds of years ago, his personal memories of basic inventions like the vaccine.

PE (physical education) teacher Rogue is full of fun sports games, you can join any kind of sports team you can imagine and if you ask nicely enough, she’ll put Just Dance on a projector in the sports hall so you can just play that instead of actually play an actual sport. As long as you leave her class exhausted and without time to have a shower before your next class then she’s succeeded in making whoever your next teacher is absolutely miserable (bonus points if it’s Logan with his enhanced sense of smell).

Art teacher jubilee does believe that there is a right way to critique art. And she can be a little in your face about it. She does think you can have wrong opinions especially when it comes to your own art. If she overhears you saying you didn’t something wrong, she’ll scream into a megaphone “adapt, improvise, overcome!”. There are no mistakes! She’s eccentric, bubbly, creative and brilliant, the only one suited for the job.

It wouldn’t be a school without budget cuts. That’s why Nightcrawler is both the languages and religions teacher and he’s beloved at both. He comes up with roleplay scenarios the students can play to help learn their chosen languages, he has varied religious texts in his room and when he says to the students “I’ll pray for toy during exam season” he’s not actually joking.

(I forgot about Hank I’m actually going to cry he’s one of my favourites and I forgot about him. He’ll be in pt two or smth.)

[iriswritesforyou]

His Mona Lisa

Warning - small violence, prejudice against mutants, and maybe some other things? IDK

Word count - 1,889

Description: Reader is a human art teacher at the school. You and Logan had both been giving each other eyes for a while now but things heat up during a field trip.

Charles Xaiver had asked you, a human, to teach at his school for mutants, as an art teacher. You were reluctant at first, not because you were scared of mutants but because you felt as if you had nothing to offer them. Your only gift rested in your ability to paint and draw, to bring the images in your mind to life, and to help the youth do the same. 

It was rocky at first, the kids were hesitant to warm up to you and you were hesitant to discipline them but that all changed one day when you introduced them to what you liked to call ‘splat balloon painting’. You had set up a canvas for each kid with balloons filled with paint next to them outside, encouraging them to throw them at the canvases. The kids loved it so much and getting paint all over you was definitely worth watching them smile and laugh. The true solidarity came when one of the kids' powers acted up and you got freezing cold acrylic paint all over you. The kid expected you to be angry like most humans would but you werent, to their surprise you just laughed it off and assured the kid you were fine. 

After that day your class was one of the favorites among the students, even the kids who had hated art in previous years found themselves enjoying your class. 

And then there was Logan, the combat instructor teacher who plagued your thoughts and little did you know you plagued him as well. It all started when one of your kids came to class all battered up and looking worse for wear claiming it was from Logan’s combat class. You didn't know much about Logan and you didn't know much about his class but you did know that your students shouldnt be showing up to class looking like they just got beat up in an alleyway. 

So you marched down into the lower levels of the school determined to scold Logan like a parent would a child. 

He was quite surprised to see a young human woman dressed in paint covered overall hanging off one of her shoulders, paint brushes stuck in her hair, and mismatched jewelry stomping up to him.

He had heard about you of course, there was a stir when you joined the campus, people whispered about you with some saying you didn’t belong and others thinking your presence would be good for future relations between humans and mutants, he didn't particularly care. This was the first time he had seen you through and you certainly left your mark on him huffing and puffing about how the kids shouldnt be showing up to class battered and bruised. 

If Logan was being honest, despite what most people thought his reaction would be, he wasn't annoyed or angry, in fact he found it a little endearing how you cared for the kids, but he pushed that down and explained to you how it wasn't his intentions but the kids have to learn somehow. 

A couple months had passed since then and you and Logan were cordial to each other, you smiled at each other in passing but nothing more than that but the rest of the teachers and even students could see how both of your eyes always found each other in a room. 

Things started to heat up when you scheduled a field trip for the students to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and Logan was going with you to help you watch the kids.

Logan knew he should have been paying more attention to the kids but he couldn't help but keep his eyes on you, the way you smiled when you explained the exhibits or how you lit up when they would ask questions. And you couldn't help but notice his watchful gaze, mostly on you and it unnerved you. Why was he staring? Was there something wrong with the way you were dressed? Something on your face? 

“Alright I want everybody to find a partner and split up, the sheet of paper I handed you all lays out the entire place and all of the attractions. Please, remember to meet up back here in an hour.” You told the kids as Logan came up beside you and you smiled at him gently “And you and I will be walking around keeping an eye on them.” he didn't say anything but nodded. 

You both had wandered over to the Museum history panel and read the date 1870, was Logan born just after that? 

“Can I ask you something personal?” He didn't even have to think about it before answering “Yes.”. 

“It says this place was founded in 1870.” your voice dropped into a whisper “weren't you born around then?” He snapped his face towards you while you stayed looking away. He wondered how you knew that you and him hadn't had a conversation in months. 

“How did you know that?” You now turned to face him completely, faces close and heart racing, he could hear it. Your eyes were locked onto each other and he couldn't help but study how the light danced in them and skin became flushed under the cool lighting, he thought he was making you scared and took a step back. He wouldn't admit it but he didn't want to take a step back. He wanted to take a step closer. 

“I’ve been - asking around, about you. I'm sorry, I should have asked you but-.” Unspoken words held in the air. 

It was your guilty pleasure to find out more about Logan, the more you knew the more you had answers and you couldn't ask him, he was, well, him. 

“You could have just asked me.” He said. You thought he would be mad, furious even but instead he looked hurt. “You're right Logan, and I’m sorry. If I’m being honest you intimidate me a little.” 

He raised one of his brows at you, he knew he had that effect on people but he didn't want it on you. “Well, you don't have to be. I don't want you to be.” His gruff voice made you stay locked onto him. 

Time could have passed for a hundred years and you both could have stayed right there forever but time didn't care what you wanted as a blood curdling scream snapped you both back to reality. 

Over in the Egyptian side of the room one of your kids and a human boy were having an all out brawl with your kid winning. Logan got there faster than you and pulled him off while the human boy quickly got up and spat at the ground by your feet, “mutant.” 

That one word was all it took for your kid to start kicking in Logan's arm, trying to claw his way back over to the human boy while he just stood there glaring. You quickly walked over to the human boy and grabbed his forearm,  “where are your parents?” and it was as if they heard you. 

A lady in an expensive looking green suit and a man twice the size of you came over, the woman with tears in her eyes, hyperventilating and the man getting red in the face with anger. 

“Let go of my son!” the man huffed getting up into your face, so close you could see the pimple about to burst on his nose. Letting go of his son you took a step back and he took one again closer to you. “Mutant bitch” It was two words now that snapped Logan into action, as he had been watching the exchange with the kid still fighting in his arms. Quickly, Logan let him go, not caring if he went back over to the human boy and started another fight. No, his only concern was you. 

Stepping in between you and the man, blocking him from your sight, they stood toe to toe. Logan was clearly taller and stronger than the man but that did nothing to deter him “And you must be her mutant bastard”. You grabbed the back of Logan's clothes hoping he wouldn't start something “Logan” you gently whispered. Logan may be an angry man but it was never for himself, he wouldn't start anything. 

It wasn't until you stepped around Logan hesitantly, still keeping your grip on him and started to try and mend the situation. “Please, ma’am, sir, we are truly, very sorry. And -”, a sickening slap echoed around the now quiet room, he had hit you and Logan wasn't going to let that slide. 

In the blink of an eye Logan pulled you back and into the arms of your mutant students who had now gathered around the both of you and punched the guy right back. 

Chaos exploded, the woman shrieked as Logan had the man jacked up against the wall as he cried, half of your kids went for the human boy who had bullied your kid and the other half stuck by you as you stood there in shock. 

It took ten security members to pry off Logan and the aftermath was quite horrific. Blood was on the walls and floors, but only the man and his boy had seriously gotten injured with your mutant students only having minor bumps and bruises. 

They would have hauled Logan off to jail if it wasn't for Charles showing up and sweet talking to them, promising not just financial compensation for the museum but for them personally as well, the human family too. 

It wasn't until you got back to the school that you really felt the pain in your upper cheek bone and eye. As you were about to open your door Logan stood there with his fist raised about to knock. 

“I’m so sorry Logan.” He didn't say anything back, his eyes not wavering from a particular spot on your face. He reached towards it and gently touched it making you hiss and jerk back “I should have hit him harder.” 

You shook your head in disbelief  “No, anything more and you would have gone to jail Logan.” 

“You need to go down to the infirmary.” He took your hand in his. “That's actually where I was about to go.” but he still held your hand and led you to the infirmary. 

“I’m sorry.” The gruff man apologized this time.

“Why?” he stopped and fully turned to you, feeling ashamed for running your first field trip. 

“It was a shitty field trip, your first one.” you shrugged but still stayed looking at him “I'm more upset about not being able to tour the museum, I've always wanted to go.” 

He felt guilty now, he knew art was your passion and he didn't even think about that part of the debacle. 

“I'll make it up to you, I'll take you next time.” He couldn't even believe the words that had come out of his mouth but he wanted to take them back, not because he didn't want to but because he assumed you wouldn't want to go with him. But to his surprise a smile grew on your face “Like a date?” 

There was a beat of silence as he gazed down at your beautiful face and gave a small smile down at you “Like a date sweetheart.” 

[cobaltperun]

The Catalyst (8) - Explode

WandaNat x Female Reader

Chapter summary: The events are being set in motion as sisters reunite and a promise is made, that a year and a half from now you���d come back, more prepared than ever to fight for the Earth.

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Masterlist / First Part / Previous Part / Next Part

Word Count: 5.8k

-I'm taking back what is mine, you can try shut the door but you know I'll just tear down the walls-

Yelena shook her head and even pinched herself. “Nope, not dreaming. You are just insane,” she took several steps away from you and when you just shrugged, she began pacing around. “Me? In the Avengers? Are you nuts?”

“Probably,” you figured you weren’t exactly normal after everything that happened to you. You were too used to all the violence and pain and too capable of killing.

She stopped pacing around and pointed her finger at you. “So, there’s you, a mutant that can incinerate a whole Red Room base. There’s a god of thunder, a Hulk, a billionaire tech genius that wearing a suit of armor, the first super soldier, Natalia, who can do everything I can only better, and she can do more,” she paused for a moment. “Oh, and Clint Barton,” she listed all seven of you, and you were sure she paused before Clint on purpose.

“Okay, Clint got done dirty right there,” you argued in favor of you friend.

Yelena rolled her eyes. “He aims well, there,” she huffed with her hands on her hips as she turned away from you. “What could you possibly need another assassin for?”

“Her good heart, willingness to help even if it puts her at risk,” she already proved it to you when she saved those girls from the Red Room. “Not giving up even when it looked like we wouldn’t find the families of all the girls, and then making what seemed impossible possible,” with each reason Yelena was groaning and gagging like she was disgusted by your arguments, but you genuinely believed she would fit great in the team. And it would be good for both her and Natasha, even if Natasha would probably have to learn not to babysit her little sister. “At least keep the possibility in mind,” that would be enough for now. “And let me call Natasha,” you could see a vein pop up on her forehead at the mere suggestion.

“You’ll do it with or without my permission,” she accused you, but you didn’t mind, it was frustration and anger and all the unresolved feelings talking. You just offered her a new purpose, one she didn’t feel she was worthy of, so, she was lashing out a bit.

“I’d never take your choice away,” not for this, not for anything. Unless that choice would cause her death or serious harm you’d respect it.

“You’re such a bitch for that,” she hated that you were making her choose, even if you were sure one of the answers was at the tip of her tongue. She looked down at her hands before hugging herself and sitting back down at the table. “Fine, call her,” the desire to see Natasha won in the end, and you nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder to offer her what little comfort you could while you sent a text to Natasha.

~X~

Cooper and Lila running around with a small puppy Laura finally allowed them to have reminded Natasha of why she was doing all of this, and at the same time it reminded her of how much red still remained on her ledger. Cooper and Lila were both already much older than she was when she became a spy. Their innocence, the way they acted their age, the love they openly showed, it all proved just how broken her own life was.

“I look at them and I’m reminded of why we keep doing what we’re doing,” she told Clint, she said what he thought so many times but tried not to say to her, respecting how much her own inability to have children affected her.

“So we can make children like them grow up safe and happy,” Clint finished for her. It was why he accepted to be an Avenger, knowing all the risks he was taking. Being an agent was already risky, but, as the battle in New York proved, being an Avenger took that danger to a whole new level.

She was a different story, she had nothing to lose. No family to come home to, even if she now knew Yelena was somewhere out there, there was no way of knowing if she wanted Natasha back in her life. And there was no one else. You could’ve been that, but she did what she did.

Her phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket and she raised an eyebrow, not sure who could be texting her now. She made sure to temporarily block any S.H.I.E.L.D. related contact because she needed a bit of time away from everything, even if it was only a couple of hours.

To her surprise the message was from you, but it was what you wrote that made her heart skip the beat. ‘Yelena wants to see you, she’s at my place,’ that was all you wrote and it was enough for her to nearly break her phone with how hard she gripped it.

“What?” Clint asked, leaning over to see the message, which must have meant she really looked distraught because he never did that. “Oh,” he mumbled and she wasn’t sure what to do now. “Do you need an emotional support archer?” he offered, trying to lighten the mood but also offering his full support to her.

She shook her head and set her phone aside before she buried her face in her hands. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t feel like she was worthy of seeing Yelena again. “I never even looked for her,” she tried when they were separated, but she never found her, and after she left the Red Room she thought it was destroyed. She hoped Yelena was somewhere out there, living a normal life. But then you told her she was in the Red Room when you were captured and that shattered all of her hopes. While Natasha was working for S.H.I.E.L.D. Yelena was paying for her betrayal and failure to destroy the Red Room.

“I need to go alone,” she still had some clarity of mind left, at least enough to say goodbye to the kids and Laura before she went to her quinjet.

~X~

With how nervous she was Natasha was surprised she didn’t land the quinjet on the rooftop of your cabin, but, luckily, she managed to steady it enough to land right in front of the cabin. She turned the engines off much slower than she usually did, still not believing that this was real. You were standing in front of your porch, waiting for her and she wrapped her arms around her body, trying to stop the trembling.

She found it difficult to breathe and for a moment wondered if she was having a panic attack. She was the Black Widow, she didn’t panic, but she wasn’t the Black Widow, the super soldier serum enhanced spy and assassin. No, she was Natalia, an eleven year old girl that just escaped Ohio and was pointing a gun at Dreykov’s men while desperately trying to keep Yelena safe.

She failed, over and over again, and she never again got a chance to see Yelena, let alone do something good for her. She was only six, yet Natasha failed to protect her.

“Natasha?” your voice brought her out of her thoughts and startled her. She jumped to her feet, a bit too frantic for her own liking, yet you looked at her with a sense of understanding. “You got this,” she wished she was as certain of that as you were, but you, unlike her, got to know Yelena over these past three years. So, she tried to trust you more than the doubts inside her heart.

“Thanks for the text,” she said as she, step by anxious step, made her way out the quinjet and up the stairs to your porch.

“Don’t mention it,” you motioned to the chair to her left. “I’ll let you have some privacy,” you sat down, though you patted Natasha on the back, reassuring her that she’d be fine. “She wants to see you. Trust me,” with those words fresh in her mind Natasha nodded and opened the doors. She wasn’t ready, but she would never be ready, so she might as well do it immediately.

She stepped into the cabin and saw Yelena way too soon, way sooner than she was ready to, but she acted on instinct and whistled in a way she tried to suppress for so long, a proof of her and Yelena’s sisterhood, a whistle shared between them.

Yelena looked at her, wide-eyes, frozen in place at the table, as if she couldn’t believe Natasha was actually there. It felt like there was a chasm between them, one that could never be crossed, and it was threatening to drag her over the edge and into the abyss. And then Yelena’s lips moved and Natasha was ready for curses and yelling, for justified anger, but instead Yelena, her sweet little sister, whistled back.

“Natalia, sorry, Natasha,” Yelena corrected herself and slapped her forehead, probably berating herself for messing up.

“You can call me whatever you’d like,” if she wanted her to be Natalia, she would be Natalia, as long as she could have her sister back. She took an unsteady step closer to Yelena.

Yelena looked at her, stuck in a turmoil of emotions, almost overwhelmed. “Natasha suits you, better” she laughed ever so slightly.

Another step closer, this one taken by Yelena. The distance between them seemed to decrease, as if Yelena’s laugh began closing it. It certainly no longer felt like they had to cross a chasm the years formed between them.

Natasha still looked down, not quite sure how to cross the distance left. She was right there, a few steps from her sister, almost within arm’s reach, and she didn’t feel like she deserved it.

“Your hair reminds me of our time in Ohio,” Yelena suddenly pointed out and she figured her hair was close to that length, though it was much messier back then. Yelena mentioning Ohio should have brought her some comfort, shown her that Yelena still thought of that time with fondness in her heart, but it only reminded her how she failed to protect her sister, how she didn’t go looking for Yelena.

“I should have come back for you, I should have made sure the Red Room was gone, that you were safe,” only the years of training allowed her to notice, in her distraught state of mind, that Yelena was closing the distance. “Forgive me, my little sister,” she asked, pleaded for forgiveness though she didn’t feel like she deserved it.

“You don’t have to say that,” how many nights did Yelena fall asleep, wishing Natasha would appear and take her somewhere safe? Perhaps as many nights as the Red Room existed, perhaps as many nights as Natasha remained a part of the Red Room. “Those years in Ohio were real to me, you were the only family I ever knew,” Yelena was crying, her voice weak as she stood in front of Natasha. “It doesn’t mean it had to be real to you too,” and if Natasha’s heart could physically break, then it did so at that very moment.

She shook her head, reaching out and placing her hands on Yelena’s arms, just beneath her shoulders as she tried to show her what she truly felt. Their breathing was shaky, emotions taking over entirely as Natasha finally hugged her sister.

Yelena leaned her forehead against Natasha’s and no matter how hard Natasha tried she couldn’t stop tears from falling from her eyes. “It was always real to me too,” she whispered grasping onto Yelena like her life depended on it. Like their lives depended on it, and Yelena hugged her, burying her face in Natasha’s neck a lot like she used to when they were kids, pretending there was a semblance of normality in their lives.

“Thank you,” Yelena’s whisper broke her heart. This wasn’t worth a ‘thank you’ yet Yelena did it anyway. “I want to stay with you, I wat to know who you are now,” Yelena’s words lifted the weight Natasha carried for so long it felt strange to no longer have it pushing her down.

“Of course,” and they both cried, clutching onto each other, desperately trying to make up for seventeen years they spent apart.

~X~

About two hours after you went to sit on your porch the sisters walked out, side by side, and relief flooded you. They made the first step, they talked it out, and there was still a long way to go before their bond could be fully repaired, but they took the first step.

Yelena lightly scratched her cheek, as if she was suddenly uncomfortable with what she had to say. “So, we are, uh, leaving, I guess. You know, lots to catch up on,” Yelena’s declaration did catch you by surprise, but it made sense.

“Have a safe trip,” you just offered them a wave, not even bothering to get up.

Yelena looked at you, considering her options at the moment. “Are you sure you don’t want us to stay the night?” she asked, making you lean your head back, faking a groan, but really just hiding your face from them.

You raised your hand and waved them off. “Off with you, I want some peace and quiet before I train my ass off,” it was scary how much spending as little as one day surrounded by people made the loneliness of this forest stand out. Deep down you didn’t want to be alone, but you knew you had to be if you wanted to properly train your powers. It wasn’t that they’d distract you, it was for their safety.

You could basically feel Yelena rolling her eyes. “She’s putting on a tough act. Whatever, I’ll wait for you to say goodbye,” she pointed at the quinjet and just walked away.

Natasha approached you, dragged one of the chairs and placed it to your left; she sat down right next to you, a bit hunched forward, but still, right next to you. You glanced at her, she wasn’t looking at you, she was just looking around. “Bye?” you offered, and she nearly chuckled at that.

“Fair,” she figured, a bitter smile forming on her face as she let her regrets drag her back down.

You turned sideways on the chair, letting your legs hand over the armrest and leaned back so your back was leaning on Natasha’s right shoulder. She stilled behind you, surprised by the ridiculousness of the act. “I’ll come back, well sort of,” you said, ignoring the scent of her perfume overwhelming your senses. She was almost too close, even if you were the one who put yourself in her personal space. “I’m not returning to S.H.I.E.L.D. but I am an Avenger, and I’ll come back to help as one,” you promised her and reached back touching her forearm with the tips of your fingers. “In a year and a half, I’ll see you again, so you better not be reckless while I’m out here training,” there, you gave her your word and finally allowed yourself to put actual effort into repairing your friendship with Natasha.

“I’ll wait,” she promised in return, her voice heavy with unspoken words and hidden feelings, but her left hand reaching over and grasping your wrist was enough for now. As light breeze caressed your skin you closed your eyes and relaxed, leaning your head back a bit and baring your neck to the best assassin the world has ever known.

“Thanks, Nat,” the nickname felt right on your tongue, and you missed it, but a single tear, caused by relief and happiness, rolled down her cheek. You weren’t sure how long you spent like that, the time seemed to fade into the background, so it easily could have been five minutes, or half an hour, or even longer, but you felt at ease, and something told you Natasha felt the same way.

~X~ Half a year later ~X~

Taking a break every once in a while felt a lot more productive than constantly pushing yourself to your limit, hence you were lazing around in your living room, a damp towel over your face cooling you down after the quick morning training you did. It was around this time of the year that you especially appreciated living in a cabin in the wood, aways from all the crowds and noise and everything that came with holiday season. Screaming, regardless of the cause, always made you uneasy, and so did unexpected explosions or loud sounds in general. It made you jumpy, immediately ready to spring into action and fight, so staying away from all of that was for the best.

The TV droned on and on and, offering a welcome background noise as you rested and you were about to drift off when the music stopped, jerking you awake by the abrupt change in program.

“We interrupt your regular program with the news that the billionaire superhero, Tony Stark,” you sat up, not even noticing as the towel fell onto the floor. “-also known as Iron Man has presumably died after a terrorist attack-“ you were barely listening, instead you focused on the destroyed building.

You had to get there immediately. Calling Tony wouldn’t do you any good, so, you took your phone off the charger and called Pepper.

~X~

It took you an entire day to make your way to the hotel Pepper was in because you needed to take a couple of breaks, but eventually you did reach the rooftop of the hotel and just fell back onto the snow-covered concrete. It almost immediately melted underneath you, but it helped cool you down. At least your skin no longer turned yellow with your rising body temperature. You called Pepper again to tell her you’d come down and meet her in fifteen minutes, as soon as you properly cooled down. She wasn’t answering though, and that got you worried, especially when you felt heat rising a couple of floors below you.

“Shit!” you cursed, taking flight once more and circling the building to crash through the window only to find Pepper pinned to the wall by some guy. You could sense the immense heat within his body, and there were cracks on his arm, similar to what happened to you, only his weren’t blue, but orange.

There was no time to analyze him, you rushed forward, kicking him off Pepper. He stumbled back, angry at your interruption and swung his fist at you. You raised your arm, blocking the punch with your forearm only for him to grab it and heat his hand up. “Huh?” you tilted your head, confused.

“Why isn’t this working?!” he demanded, increasing the heat but still not getting the results.

“You’re not hot enough,” you smirked a bit, lightning your arm on fire and forcing him to let go of you. You finally took a moment to look around you, noticing terrified Pepper and another woman, more afraid of you than the man. Well, you did come crashing through the window. And even if the man couldn’t hurt you he was still danger to everyone else. It was risky, there was no way of knowing if it would depower him or not, but the only solution coming to your mind was trying to absorb his heat with your glaive.

“Let’s take this outside,” you grabbed and threw him out the window. “Give me a moment,” you told Pepper and jumped after him, landing on the balcony a few floors below Pepper’s floor as the man began getting up. His injuries from the glass and the fall were healing and he turned toward you, lunging forward with his body already heating up. You caught him before he could slam into you and slammed your elbow down onto the back of his neck and kneed him in the guts. He grunted, but didn’t fall, so you hit him with a quick uppercut and landed a few follow-up punches, knocking him against the balcony fence. His suit was on fire as he grasped onto the fence, melting it in the process and them, randomly, just spewed fire from his mouth right at your face.

You blinked and moved slightly to the side, mourning the collar of your jacket. He looked at you, frozen in shock and terrified that nothing he did was working. “Rude,” you took your glaive and pressed the tip against his chest, and sure enough the heat from his body was being absorbed into the glaive. “Where’s Tony?” you asked, sort of bored by this fight. There was no challenge here, there was simply nothing he could do.

Yet he smirked. “Maybe you should worry about Pepper first,” something, or rather someone, heating up above you made you look up and you let go of him, flying up just in time to pull Pepper out of harm’s way and fly with her up to the rooftop. You were sloppy, forgetting that he might have had other people with him, and it nearly cost you Pepper’s life. “Right, that wasn’t the smartest move,” you figured and looked down, noticing the man was fleeing.

“I’m getting too used to that,” she tried to joke, though you could tell she wasn’t taking all of this all that well. It was a miracle that she wasn’t having a panic attack right now. “Maya, she works for Killian, oh my god, I was such a fool,” she sat down, her legs too unsteady and you found yourself unsure of how to approach this. You spent too much time away from all the regular people to navigate this situation properly. Sure, you met Pepper a few times when Tony insisted on dragging you back to the civilization, so you don’t ‘forget how to speak’ as he put it, but you didn’t know her well enough to comfort her. Everyone else let you be, trusting you to come back in a year and a half, but he was persistent, almost endearingly so.

All you could really do was offer her protection from Killian’s men. You felt three people extremely high body temperature climbing up the stairs to the rooftop, so, you cracked your neck and rolled your shoulders, getting ready for them. “Pepper, stay back and don’t panic. I won’t let them get to you,” you assured her as the doors opened and three men came out, and they were armed. Not with guns or something more readily available, but with actual bazookas and heavy machine guns.

“Does that complicate things?” Pepper fearfully asked as you casually spun your glaive around, letting the tip light on fire and watching the circle of blue flames forming along the path of the glaive’s tip.

“No, not really, I got a neat new trick. Tony’s idea, really,” the flames turned into sparks which grew into actual lightning and you swung the glaive across the concrete, making a dent in it that erupted with electricity. You then swung again a bit above your eye level, trapping the lightning in a sort of a constant concentrated flow. “That should attract any stray bullets, won’t stop the ones these guys have, but it will redirect them away from you,” with smaller caliber bullets they would get stuck between the lightning, but this would have to do. “Just don’t stand right behind it.”

That being said, you had no intention of giving them the chance to shoot at Pepper. Ribbons emerged from your wrists, indicating you were putting more power into your actions, and you jumped up raising your glaive above your head. Lightning surged from your body lightning up the rooftop and one of them man launched a rocket at you. “Put some effort into it,” you threw your glaive, meeting the rocket in the middle as the glaive absorbed the explosion from it and embedded into the rooftop, discharging enough electricity to scatter the man and push them back.

You zapped toward your glaive, landing on the hilt and snapping it out of the concrete. It spun behind you and you reached back, catching it and swinging it and cutting bazooka in half before slicing the man across his chest.

He cried out and just like Killian began healing, but his body temperature was also rapidly rising, making you quickly end him before he could blow himself up. The glaive had a limit though, and you slashed toward the sky, safely releasing the gathered energy. The other two paused for a moment, as if contemplating if attacking you was worth the risk. But they wouldn’t give up, they never did, too afraid of their boss, or too confident in their own abilities.

They fired at you and you ducked, sliding across the rooftop and keeping their attention on you.

~X~

With the three men dead you took Pepper to a different hotel, a much less fancy one that didn’t attract too much attention even at this time of the year. A nice generous tip from Pepper and the staff was sworn to silence. You weren’t here for the hotel services, you only meant to let Pepper rest, knowing that you couldn’t locate Tony just yet. And it brought you several hours of ease, as you weren’t found until the early hours of the morning. While she slept you sat right outside on the balcony, swatting away annoying flies before they could wake the woman up. Killian was persistent, throwing his men at you in hopes that one of them could find an opening and either take you out or take Pepper.

By the afternoon next day you had already dealt with almost a dozen of them and here was the latest in line, throwing himself at you a lot like Black Widows did in the Red Room. His attempt ended the same way, with you and Pepper unharmed and him defeated.

“Right, let’s see if you’re smarter than your comrades,” you raised the latest soldier attacking the two of you by his neck. “Where’s your boss?” you asked politely, pressing the tip of your glaive against his skin and draining the heat. “Come on, buddy, time is ticking here,” he shook his head, and you groaned, turning to Pepper. “Please take a few steps back, it’s about to get really hot,” you requested and nodded appreciatively when she did so. “Now, I’ll let you do the math. You no longer have your heat thing, and I can control fire,” you were giving him one last chance. Your eyes began glowing, your arms slowly cracking blue.

“Norco!” the man gasped, more terrified of what was happening to you than of what you were about to do.

“Good choice,” you dropped him back to the ground and the cracks healed as you turned to Pepper. “Well, I can’t leave you here,” and the moment you turned your back the guy began glowing.

“Y/N!” Pepper cried out as the man exploded and you just swing your glaive behind you, absorbing the explosion and redirecting it up in a beam toward the sky.

“You ever played Pokémon? You know with different types and immunity and all that, it’s been a while my memory is a bit fuzzy,” she was looking at you incredulously as you waved the glaive around. “Anyway, that’s what’s going on here. I did not get that much stronger, it’s just that they are at a complete disadvantage against me,” you explained and rested your glaive against your shoulder.

Pepper shook her head like she was already done with you. “Right, what were you saying before? About not being able to leave me here? Which, of course not, leaving me here is definitely out of the question.”

You snapped your fingers, getting back on track. “Exactly, that would make you vulnerable in case more of those guys show up. On the other hand, I’d like to go and help Tony, so, do you have any plane, jet, whatever can get us to Norco quickly enough?” you watched Pepper nodding a few times before pulling her phone out and getting the fastest jet available to Stark Industries at the moment.

~X~

And damn, the jet was fast, taking you to Florida in record time. You looked at Pepper, who was clearly anxious, squeezing her hands and looking out the window as if that would make the jet fly even faster.

“Do you want to go down there with me or-“ you began talking and she immediately looked at you.

“With you!” Tony was down there, possibly without a suit, and she wasn’t going to helplessly watch from the jet.

You nodded and got up. “It might be better to jump from here,” Norco was almost in sight. “That way the won’t see us coming and more importantly the jet won’t be a target in case they can shoot at it,” you offered her your hand, and she quickly took it, standing up and following you to the doors without a single question. You wrapped your arm around her waist as respectfully as what you were about to do allowed and she, knowing how reckless it was, put her arm around your shoulders to steady herself.

“Turn around after we jump!” you instructed the pilot and opened the doors. The sudden wind and the speed of the jet made you and Pepper frown for a moment, both of you experienced that annoying buzzing but you pushed through it, and you jumped down, flying the rest of the way to Norco.

“Tony!” Pepper yelled as the two of you saw him ejecting his body from another one of his suits and narrowly avoiding being cut in half but Killian. Tony was lying on his back as Killian stood on the platform above him, and there was no suit in sight.

“We got him,” you assured her, speeding up and landing right behind Tony. “Right, I believe this is yours, Miss Potts,” you took a moment to tease before zapping to the platform above the three of you and kicking Killian down from it. You followed after him, and before he could get up you pressed the tip of your glaive against the middle of his back. “One move and this goes right through you,” you told him quite casually.

Tony looked baffled by what just happened and he wasn’t sure whether to look at Pepper or at you. “What is going on here? Why aren’t you somewhere safe?” he demanded from Pepper, on the verge of a panic attack at the mere thought of her being in danger. “Why are you here? Not that I’m complaining but why?” he turned to you, not sure what to focus on first.

Then he suddenly got news from his earpiece and just brushed it off as another one of his suits flew in, tripped on the fence and fell apart. “Whatever,” he rolled his eyes at the suit as if he’s been having troubles with a disobedient child and was just done with it. “Again, why?” he asked both you and Pepper.

Killian tried to get up, grunting with effort, but you just poked him into staying still. “Whatever you’re thinking it won’t work,” you told him as Pepper, instead of answering Tony, just hugged him tightly.

Tony froze for a moment, temporarily setting aside all the questions he had in order to comfort Pepper. “I’m fine, Honey,” Tony whispered softly and brushed her hair as he hugged her.

You looked away, wanting to give them some privacy, and instead focused on Killian. The question was what to do with him. There weren’t many places that could hold someone with his powers at the moment, and it wasn’t like you could constantly keep an eye on him. He turned his head to glare at you and in a desperate attempt to accomplish his goal he pushed his body up, letting the glaive pierce his flesh and rolling to the side, crying out as the blade ripped through his side and for what it was worth it you were impressed by his resolve. You got between him and Tony and Pepper and lunged forward as he released a torrent of fire from his mouth. “Tony, you want the finishing blow?” you offered and heard Tony getting his repulsor beam ready. “And,” you pierced through Killian’s guts, draining him of all the heat from his modifications. “Now,” there was your signal. Tony shot Killian twice, through the chest and the head and with his healing and powers shut down there was no coming back from this.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Tony commented and turned to Pepper. “Again though, why are you here? Both of you?” and there was his perfectly reasonable confusion.

Pepper sighed and pointed at you. “Your ex tried to kidnap me with Killian, and Y/N saved me. She’s been guarding me ever since and it wasn’t safe to leave me on my own while she came to help you,” Pepper explained and though Tony probably had more questions he was just happy Pepper was safe.

He cleared his throat, taking a few extra seconds there. “Thanks, Y/N, I owe you one,” you disagreed, you just dropped by to help as a friend, but he seemed genuinely touched by you showing up to keep Pepper safe.

“I’m not keeping tabs,” you shrugged and flew up. “I’ll leave you two to have your moment!” you flew away, leaving a rather amused Tony alone with Pepper. Two minutes later you heard explosions behind you and stopped only to see Tony’s suits were blowing up on their own and though you were tempted to go back just to make sure they were fine something told you everything was just fine.

~X~ Somewhere else ~X~

The woman, dressed in a plain hospital gown, stepped through the doors, anxious, uncertain of what the future would bring, but fully aware of the weight of her past.

“For our notes, state your name and confirm your status,” she heard the voice over the speaker and assumed she was being watched.

“Wanda Maximoff, a volunteer.”

A/N: Well, I originally didn’t intend to include Iron Man 3, but I just couldn’t resist. I think it’s funny that Reader basically has a perfect counter for Killian and his soldiers, so yeah, you got a bit of that as well. Anyway, since questions seemed to encourage more comments, here’s another one for you all. Was the brief moment between Natasha and Reader earned, all things considered?

Taglist: @toxicitytiger @wandaromamoff69 @womenarehotsstuff @psychickryptonitebouquet @seventeen-x @maddsdotorg @arualdcg @ilovemybabygirlmoon @redroomgraduate @canyonyodeler @skz-xii @jokermoonie @marvelwomen-simp @beggingonmykneesforher

Masterlist / First Part / Previous Part / Next Part

[velvet4510]

Why Magneto’s Storyline in X-Men: Apocalypse is The Worst (it’s not just Cherik)

Ok I just need to vent because this has been chewing away at my brain for far too long.

Cherik is far from the only reason why Erik’s family plotline in X-Men: Apocalypse is some of the stupidest, sloppiest, and most character-ruining pieces of writing I’ve ever seen. Haters may say “oh you’re just upset because he married someone who wasn’t Charles.” But, like, aside from the fact that the original timeline already established that Erik’s top priority was always the fight for mutantkind and he had no interest in settling down - whether that had anything to do with his feelings for Charles or not - the problems with the Apocalypse writing go WAY beyond just him & Charles:

Erik would never abandon his cause at this point. By the end of DOFP, Erik has just been imprisoned for a full 10 years thanks to the JFK situation. Meaning he has spent a full decade being forcibly inactive in the fight for mutants. And he just learned that all of his fears about humans and mutants came to pass in the future to the level where a time-traveler had to be sent to change the past. And he was so set on averting that future that he tried to kill his friend and the sister of the man he loved, and then made a whole speech on international TV begging for the mutants of the world to fight alongside him. This is the POLAR OPPOSITE of a man who would feel like settling down and walking away from the fight within the next decade. The Sentinels being cancelled did NOT make mutant life easy overnight; Stryker was still up to no good, and there is no way that there weren’t others like him doing the same. Yes, Raven’s actions made a very positive difference, but I think we have enough brain cells to agree that this did not mean things for mutants immediately became sunshine and rainbows to the level where Erik - the most (understandably) paranoid character in the X-Men series - would even consider taking a break, let alone giving up the fight permanently. Knowing what he did about the possibilities of the future would’ve made the Erik we know double down on his commitment to his cause and follow up on his actions in Washington.

Erik wouldn’t risk starting a young family at this moment in his life. Erik was a Holocaust prisoner, his people were massacred, his mom was shot when he couldn’t move the coin, and then Charles was shot when Erik accidentally deflected a bullet into him, and then every member of his Brotherhood save Raven were captured and killed. Not only is this more than enough grief for one character to have, but the man wouldn’t dare risk having a new family of his own when everyone he’s ever loved has gotten hurt (largely because of him), and when he’s an international fugitive. That is no time to risk being selfish, and he would know. He would’ve been the first to realize that a potential spouse and child would also end up killed, and so he’d avoid that altogether. In fact, he wouldn’t even consider it, because, as mentioned, he wouldn’t leave his cause behind. You know, if he was actually in character.

Magda is a human. At this point, Erik hates humans. Again, he has just been imprisoned by humans for 10 years for trying to save a mutant, and he just learned that in the future, humans would’ve wiped out mutants, exactly as he feared. Everything that happened in DOFP would only further inflame his already-passionate hatred of humans. He is not in the mental state to even begin to consider Charles’ philosophy and give a human a chance at a relationship, let alone marry a human.

The family lives in Poland. The country where Auschwitz is. The country where Erik and his family and people was imprisoned, tortured, and executed. The country where Erik had to watch Shaw kill his mother. Basically the LAST country in the freaking WORLD that Erik would want to ever see again, let alone spend the rest of his life in. Erik is fluent in multiple languages - he is shown to easily converse in French and Spanish in First Class - and has been all over the world thanks to his Nazi hunting, so if he really needed to flee the U.S., there were a hundred other countries he could’ve gone to and blended into (Canada, France, Mexico, anywhere in South America, heck, he even could’ve discovered Genosha during this time). But in the original timeline, he didn’t leave the U.S. at all despite being a national fugitive after escaping his plastic prison, and he never did get caught again, so….

Erik’s first meeting with Magda is completely OOC for him. Erik mentions that he told Magda who he was the first night they met and he trusted her then. EXCUSE ME??? Erik Lehnsherr does not trust strangers. Erik Lehnsherr does not tell the complete truth about himself and his past to just anyone; look at how deeply Charles had to probe before Erik opened up to him. This stupid line was obviously shoehorned in just to make their relationship seem like perfect soulmates and thus ensure it is doubly tragic when she gets thrown in the fridge 5 minutes later (more on that in a sec). Obviously the intention is for the audience to go “aww, he instantly trusted her, she instantly accepted him, this is true love…” Give me a break. You’re really telling me that Magda met this stranger one night, found out he was none other than the international fugitive who apparently killed the U.S. president and just tried to kill another president on live TV, and went “oh, no problem, honey, let’s make a baby and live the cottagecore dream!” That’s some BS if I’ve ever heard it, and I’m convinced the writers subconsciously knew it; there’s a reason that is revealed in a throwaway line rather than shown onscreen, because then nobody would’ve bought it.

Fridging. Magda and Nina exist in the movie for one reason and one reason only: To get brutally killed and give Erik even more grief and trauma so that he’ll seek revenge on the entire world, aka do what the plot demands of him, aka have the same journey as he did in First Class (more on that in a sec). That’s all. Neither of them are any more than one-dimensional plot devices. They are not characters at all. Magda isn’t even named in the actual movie (he doesn’t even say her name when she dies) - it’s so obvious they didn’t even know what her name would be when they made the movie. This is textbook fridging, and one of the worst examples of it of all time. It’s all the worse considering that Erik never met Magda in the original pre-DOFP timeline, meaning Magda originally most likely lived a long happy life and died old in bed. But now, she gets fridged just because the writers didn’t know what more to do with Erik. It’s misogyny of the highest level.

A parenthood story for Erik was already set up. DOFP already hinted at Erik being a father, with Peter’s comment about his mom. So if the writers wanted to show Erik as a father, and to include Magda, they already had a solution that would seamlessly flow from the previous film - make Erik and Peter’s relationship one of the centerpieces of the story, and let Magda be Peter’s mom! (You know, like she is in the comics!)

It doesn’t contribute anything new to Erik’s character development. From a screenwriting POV, this is unforgivable. May I remind you that Erik’s entire storyline in First Class revolved around grief and trauma for the loss of his family and people, especially his mom, and seeking revenge for it. Giving him a wife and daughter just so they can get killed too adds absolutely NOTHING to his character development. It’s merely retreading everything that already happened in his arc: he loses his family and goes on a roaring rampage of revenge. Completely superfluous, right down to Charles insisting that there’s good in him beyond the pain. The redundancy becomes apparent even in the dialogue, where Charles literally says “I told you since I first met you there’s good in you too.” The script itself can’t help but point out that all of this has happened before and literally nothing new has been added to Erik’s character arc.

See? It’s not just because of Cherik. Erik’s story in X-Men: Apocalypse is an atrocity in basic screenwriting and character development, on every level. And I will always despise it.

(Please tell me I’m not the only one who feels this way…)

[pickledpascal]

Thee Wolverine

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Maya Imik

Warnings: animal tendencies, cat behavior, some sexual themes if you squint, fluff otherwise!

A/N: just felt like there was too much feral!logan where he's a fucking machine. what if he just wants to be close to his mate, c'mon now.

Word Count: 1.8k

Hugh Jackman Masterlist

Logan did not go feral. Well, if someone asked, he would say he didn’t.

But there were days, weeks, months when he didn’t act like himself. Where scent, touch, and just about everything seemed to drive him crazy. He’d isolate himself in his room, exiting it with a few more claw marks lodged into the walls or he’d simply leave the mansion. Live in the woods for an indiscriminate amount of time until he felt normal enough to return.

With Maya, that changed.

Similar to their usual routine when they were about to sleep, Maya read a book beside Logan as he got in bed next to her. The whole day, he had felt urges. He knew he was slipping little by little. Around Maya, the fight in him crumbled. His pupils turned to slits as he felt that part of his brain take over.

He pulled her close, causing her to let out a light squeak at how roughly her pulled her. He buried his head into her neck and rubbed his cheek against the exposed skin of her neck and shoulder. His pupils rounded and dilated before he closed his eyes.

Maya looked at Logan curiously, an amused smile on her face. The book was long forgotten as he kept rubbing his face against her until he tucked his head underneath her chin. She carded a hand through his hair and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Logan wasn’t a stranger to cuddling. Even less so as the person who wanted the affection, desperate for it at times, too. However, this was a whole new level Maya hadn’t experienced yet. Though, she didn’t mind.

A low purr escaped Logan’s chest as Maya kept her fingers in his hair. Surprise was an understatement. She was downright ecstatic at the discovery. Logan was a goddamn cat. Well, more like a tiger. Large and dangerous with deadly claws and an even deadlier bite but downright cuddly and soft when they wanted to be.

They went to sleep like that. Maya’s arms were around Logan’s shoulders while his arms were wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly to him. Their legs tangled together so he could lock their bodies like puzzle pieces. Maya had never felt so warm in her life. It was like being covered in the world's best heated and weighted blanket.

Waking up was another ordeal.

“Logan, let me go.” Maya huffed as she tried to get away from him but he kept a firm hold around her body.

“No.” He hummed, rubbing his face into her hair with a large, easy smile on his face. It would have been more endearing if she hadn’t had an important briefing with Scott in the morning.

Eventually, he did let her go but he full-on whined at the loss of contact. He even growled lowly when she got dressed properly, eyes turning to slits. Maya didn't notice. He hated that she was covering her skin. Hated that he didn't have as much access as he did earlier.

He stood up and pressed his chest to her back and wrapped his arms around her waist, letting his chin rest on her shoulder as a chuff rumbled in his body.

Maya pecked his cheek. “Don't worry, you'll be okay without me for a little while.” Logan frowned. His pupils seemed to get impossibly rounder.

Maya wondered what that was about. In fact, he hadn't said more than a word to her since yesterday, when they had lunch. She brushed it off as just him having a bad day, he'd talk to her later about it, as he always did.

She left the room and went to the briefing with Scott. It went smoothly. They were brainstorming ways to get better protections for mutants from experimentation in a lawful route with Jean and Ororo. Maya didn't think she was of much help but the others reassured her that she was.

During lunch hours, she sat where she usually did with some of the older students. Yukio, Ellie, and Kitty had become friends she liked even if they were nearly ten years younger than her. After a while, she noticed Logan was not in the dining hall like everyone else. Maya pursed her lips.

“Have any of you seen Logan today?” She asked. They all knew of their relationship, at this point, so she felt no reason to hide her worry or favor for the older mutant.

Kitty chuckled. “You didn't hear? He canceled all of his classes.”

“What?” Maya blinked. To be fair, Logan didn't seem like he wanted to converse with anyone, much less a bunch of children. “Why?”

Ellie stared at Maya flatly. As always. “He didn't tell you?” She raised an eyebrow. Then let out a soft “hm.”

Maya pushed a hand through her hair and screwed her eyes shut for a moment, slightly exasperated. There was a lot she didn't know about Logan, he was nearly two hundred fucking years old, of course, she wouldn't be able to know every goddamn thing he went through.

“What is it?” She pressed.

Yukio answered this time, in her usual cheerful tone though it was quieter now as if she was telling a secret. “Sometimes the animal part of Mr. Howlett takes over! He becomes more,” She thought about it for a moment, “Feral. Gives into his animal instincts. He always cancels classes when that happens.”

Maya could not believe what Yukio was telling her. She laughed. She knew it was true. But feral? Describing the cuddle bear that was Logan that morning as feral was silly.

She could still see him in the back of her mind, pupils so dilated they seemed to take over his entire hazel iris. His hair was so fluffy from lying around in bed that it seemed to accentuate the two tufts on either side of his head.

When Maya did come back to his room—their room—she was bombarded by Logan. He pulled her down to the bed with him and nearly shredded off her shirt to expose her skin. He nuzzled his face against her stomach which made her chuckle. He was so goddamn cuddly. She wondered what the students thought he did while he was like this. What urges did they think he had? To kill? Destroy shit? Dare she say fuck?

Logan chuffed again, his entire body rumbled with the noise as he rubbed his cheeks against her. His facial hair made it feel scratchy but Maya didn't mind it much. He was enjoying himself, why would she stop that?

“How've you been?” She asked in a murmur, trying to make some conversation.

“Missed you.” He hummed. His nose traced the soft outline of Maya's abdominal muscles.

Her heart warmed. She glanced around the room. All of the drawers designated to her were slightly ajar. She looked back down at Logan, an amused smirk on her face. He was wearing one of her shirts. A simple black T-shirt with a vintage design on the front.

“Yeah?” Maya tugged a little at the shirt. She raised an eyebrow at him.

Logan pouted softly as he raised his head to look at her. “Smells like you.”

Maya let out a breath, her eyes softening and full of affection as she tugged Logan up her body. “C'mere, sweetheart.” He happily obliged. “I don't mind you taking my clothes if it helps you, okay?” She nodded at him.

He kissed Maya's cheek in response, purring lowly. He wrapped his arms around her again and rubbed his cheek against hers. She laughed. It was his favorite sound in the world. He wanted to hear it all the time. His heart twinged with affection each time he heard even the faintest of chuckles escape her lips.

“Mate makes me happy.” Logan murmured. He rubbed his face against her hair again to feel the softness of it.

He loved her presence, the feeling of her skin against his. More importantly, for his feral mind, he loved having her scent all over him and he loved rubbing his scent all over her. No one else would know besides him and that's what made it so much sweeter.

Maya let Logan mess up her hair, a light smile on her lips. She had never thought of herself as his ‘mate,’ but she was. They were made for each other, it appeared. They fit together like a lock and a key or a pen to paper. They were so similar yet so different. And they embraced those differences without fail. Each flaw seemed to only make them love the other more. Now that they found each other, they were never going to let go. Never could let go.

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, earning her another chuff. “You make me happy too, mate.” Maya wrapped an arm around Logan's shoulder. She thought she might as well appeal to his current mental state.

Logan purred happily. He grew even happier when Maya rubbed her cheek against his. His lips parted. A smile that showed his teeth formed on his face.

Maya wanted to take a picture. But she didn't feel like ruining the moment. It was a rare sight to see Logan smile with teeth. She wasn't sure if it was because he intentionally tried not to show his sharp canines in fear of being seen as scary or what but… it was so beautiful when he smiled like that.

She brushed a hand into his hair. Logan let out a contented purr. She scratched at a specific spot in his hair that she knew made him go weak—she wanted to know if something else would happen now that he was giving in to his animal urges.

Almost immediately, his whole body relaxed and went limp. He closed his eyes and purred louder. His entire body rumbled with the noise. Maya was sure that if Logan had a tail then it would be wagging.

“You’re cute.” She smiled, scratching at the hairs on the nape of his neck.

Logan let out a low gruff noise in protest. He didn’t complain otherwise. How could he? Maya had him weak in the knees.

If he was standing, he would have probably collapsed onto the floor with how she was touching him. He liked it like that. The comfort he could feel from a simple touch Maya gave him was more than what he could put into words. He breathed in her scent, letting his body mold into hers.

“Love you, so much.” He hummed against her skin. It was muffled to the point Maya wasn’t sure what he said for a few seconds.

She rubbed her cheek against the side of his head. “Love you too.”

[yeonjuns-beanie]

Sacrifice Preview

a/n: RRAGGGH. this'll prolly be the last fic i post for a while, as I'm in the throws of writing a book. i hope whoever comes across this will enjoy it and the full fic will prolly be posted by this evening! really love that deadpool & wolverine got me out of my writer's block lol. hope yall have a great day! ~nero

summary: y/n is an omega-level mutant who finds herself on Xavier’s doorstep after an unfortunate encounter. cursed with the knowledge that whomever she loves will one day die by her hand, her heart tries its best to bury itself upon seeing color when she meets logan but the fight is fruitless.

warnings: 18+, smut, soulmate color au, hinted character death…, somewhat established relationship–you’ll see, soft sex with logan with primal undertones, biting, a lot of mentions of blood due to the reader’s mutation, depictions of violence, more to come prolly

ITS HERE!! :D

 "I just don’t know if I can be that selfish.”

With tears threatening to spill you looked up at Logan, the fear you were swallowing for months now coming to the surface. 

“I don’t wanna kill you, Lo.”

Logan sighed and moved to sit next to you grabbing your hand in his, tracing over the grooves of your palms. You figured this was it. You found him and you lost him all within a confession of something you couldn’t control. Your powers ameliorated for destruction you were left to bathe in the aftermath and be forced to solitude once again.

Taking your hand and bringing it up to his lips to kiss, he finally spoke. 

“Sweetheart, nothing can kill me.” 

Your head turned to face him, your face contorted in confusion before he continued. 

“And if loving you brings about my end, then God dammit it’ll be a death worth the sacrifice. I’ve lived lifetimes y/n, don’t deny yourself to save me. Ion need saving, I need you.”

Beneath the watery clouds of tears that glossed over your eyes, stars and hearts rested within them as you processed Logan’s words. There was no fear, no hate, no promise of abandonment from him, and while on instinct it scared you, you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of eternity in his arms. This was more than seeing color, this was a testament to souls spending lifetimes to find each other, to reignite their flame and rival the brilliance of stars. 

[darklink82]

Netflix Devil May Cry review

I've taken a break from the overall discourse and replayed Devil May Cry 3 to get the bad taste out of my mouth and I've come to a realization, there are aspects of this show that could have been used to make a great Devil May Cry story...for Nero.

(Breathes in)

The Terrible Shit.

God there is so much stuff in this show that was flatly terrible to include from the outset and I'm gonna need to clear that out from discussion to move forward so...here goes.

The deliberate and blatant allegories for the Iraq War and immigration were terrible ideas and it's pretty clear that they were written by someone who was trying to be "neutral" on immigration and superficially against the Iraq War...let me explain

Immigration

The show presents the idea that many of the demons in the demon world are weak humanoids who can barely breathe the air there due to "pollution" of some kind. It also posits that all demons are descended from humans who were trapped in the demon world thousands of years ago so they are practically just cute monster people being oppressed by Mundus and the ugly and monstrous demons who are also seemingly also descended from humans too...I guess. Anyway, to get into the allegory issues, this presents an explicit scenario where some pitiable "demons" try to escape into earth for a better life and some monstrous "demons" try to sneak into earth, seemingly just to kill and maim people...I can't be the only one here who sees how fucked this is as an allegory right. To top it all off there is a scene where the barrier between the human world and the demon world is taken down and it results in a near apocalyptic massacre, which would be fine in a story that just about fighting demons but this is also a story where demons are mutants trying to escape to a better life so the allegory also becomes "open borders will result in white genocide". It's a bad allegory done badly and I couldn't stop thinking about how bad it is. ONTO THE NEXT TERRIBLE ALLEGORY

Operation Iraqi Demonic Makaian Freedom

So beyond the terrible immigration allegory they also threw in some War on Terror comparisons too....yippee. It is never subtle about this, the first episode has the president of the United States get briefed on Terrorist Demons while he complains that the last guy only had to complain about Saddam, There is a scene where the US military engages in mass murder of innocent demonic men, women, and children with machine guns and portable crematoriums, and it ends with the US military invading the demon world, killing everyone indiscriminately, and establishing private resource mining operations to the tune of American Idiot by Green Day.... and I have to be honest, it feels like all of that was justify having a scene where the US military does atrocities to the tune of American Idiot rather than to make any kind of coherent statement about anything. U.S. Military Bad may be a correct statement but what does any of this have to do with Devil May Cry?

The Bad Shit.

Dante feels like a MacGuffin in this story. He does get some of the better fight scenes but he is also constantly getting knocked out and tied up somewhere 4 times in this 8 episode season. This leaves him separated from the rest of the plot and he mostly just has cool action scenes, but little character development or connections to the themes that the story is (poorly) exploring. I also hate to sound like one of the usual suspects but he shows Quicksilver level speed early on in the story but Lady keeps being able to get the drop on him over and over and over to the point that it's just stupid.

The White Rabbit is a fun and well acted villain who is genuinely unique as far as Devil May Cry antagonists go...until he is revealed to be a human with the most bog standard "I am an ally/member of [DISCRIMINATED GROUP] but I was victimized and driven insane by the actions of [DISCRIMINATING GROUP] so now I will kill them all no matter how many [DISCRIMINATED GROUP] I have to kill along the way" type villains. He even gets a massive power boost and becomes a generic hulk monster. There was so much potential with him but he just ends up boring and standard.

They turned Lady into an IDF Soldier...I don't want her to get a redemption arc, I want Dante to knock her out and leave her in a crematorium truck for the rest of the next season.

Changing all the magic into "quantum physics" is boring as all hell. And it isn't even humans trying to use science to explain demonic magic, the demons explicitly say it's quantum physics as well. The games always had some magitek around but it was never explained and mostly just added to the mystique of the locations, making it explicit science ruins that. It's also just boring on its own, makes everything feel less special.

The CGI demons were distracting, they contrasted way too much from the admittedly excellent 2D animation for me to stop noticing it.

I personally found the decision to make all the "innocent" demons into humans with weird bits and all the "evil" demons into monstrous creatures offensive and cowardly for what should be obvious reasons. The only "monstrous" demon that has redeeming qualities is the one that can shape shift into a human.

They overstuff the ending of the season in such a way that I can't see a good and coherent season 2 that can juggle ALL of the plot threads that they create at the last minute. We have:

The US military invading Hell and doing war crimes

Arius and the Oroborous company strip mining hell, likely connecting to Lucia's (whitewashed) cameo in episode one

Vergil either working for Mundus willingly or being brainwashed and creating demonic ISIS

Dante needing to escape DARKCOM's custody and acquire Ebony and Ivory

Lady's redemption arc

Dante and Vergil's rivalry

It's just gonna be a mess.

Nitpicks and fan rage

The demons get offended when their homeworld is called hell or the demon world. Instead they call it Makai....which is Japanese for Demon World. That's just lazy.

Agni & Rudra are objectively worse than they are in the games, being just generic dumb monsters wielding swords rather than being cordial sentient swords wielding bodies.

I don't mind cursing but holy shit does Lady curse too much in this show, to a very distracting degree.

If Dante ever gets serious in this show then I only hear Nero. Sorry, Johnny Yong Bosch is just too iconic for me not to hear it.

Vergil says that he is the storm and then he approaches all over them.....we get that Bury the Light is a fucking magnificent theme but that was fucking ridiculous.

The licensed soundtrack was honestly distracting at times but that's gonna be hot or miss for people.

The Good Shit

The IDEA of there being a larger number of good or benign demons in the demon world is actually an interesting one, and the idea that many would want to go to earth so that they could escape the oppression that they experience in the demon world is something worthy of exploring in Devil May Cry. I can even see an argument that Sparda sealing off the realms did effectively prevent many demons from "waking up to justice" the same way he did. There is even plenty of support for benign and friendly demons in the games and 2007 anime. Cerberus, Agni & Rudri, and arguably Nevan from Devil May Cry 3 are fairly cordial and honorable, they just oppose Dante because it's their duty and willingly join up with him after they are defeated. Brad from the 2007 Anime was summoned to bring his monstrous master into the world but changed his ways after experiencing both love for another as well as the joy and freedom of life on earth. Modeus was a student of Sparda who chose to become a pacifist, seemingly having been on earth long enough to gain preferences about strawberry sundaes. And then there are Trish and Lucia, one only needing a single act of kindness from Dante to completely turn on Mundus and the other being a full demon raised by humans. My main issue with the way the show handled is that it reeks of cowardice and "shitty magneto writing"

The 2D animation is genuinely great giving us fun visuals and great action scenes.

The first few episodes had a lot of fun and energy to them but the severe vibe changes in Episode 5 are gonna make or break the series for a lot of people.

Episode 6 was honestly pretty good even though it felt somewhat out of place in the story, serving primarily to compare and contrast Lady and the White Rabbit's back stories until they finally collide in tragedy. Its biggest drawbacks are that it doesn't feel like a proper part of the show while also being the primary source that confirms that Lady is indeed party to war crimes. They started gunning down civilians before the portal even opened.

Theoretical alternative show that would have fucking rocked

If you already have Johnny Yong Bosch you should at least look into having him play the character he already plays and Nero would have actually been a really good character for some of this plot...as long as they got rid of the overt Americanization of the story.

Nero is a part demon orphan who was raised by a loving, human, foster family who lost his foster parents to a demon attack. This and other demon related tragedies eventually result in him embracing his demonic side so that he can use that power to protect his family and others. During the events of Devil May Cry 4 he learns that the local Sparda worshiping cult has been transforming humans into demonic hybrids and that he is related to Sparda by blood somehow. After taking down the corrupt church and accepting his demonic power he settles down as a demon hunter and eventually becomes a foster father to a group of children who were orphaned during the events of Devil May Cry 4.

The White Rabbit is a human orphan who was rejected by his human foster family before finding his way into the demon world before being adopted a kind family of weaker demons. The loss of his adopted sister to the cruelty and harshness of the demon realm inspires him to find a way to bring his foster family and other weaker demons to the human realm where they can be safe. However, an organized group of human demon hunters slaughter everyone he was trying to save, leading him to inject himself with demon blood and make an alliance with demon lords for revenge against them, regardless of how many of those he once tried to save will die in the process.

The parallels are RIGHT FUCKING THERE Come On.

By primarily replacing Lady and Dante with Nero you could focus the story on a single person's journey and reactions to everything going on, especially if you are going to stick to an 8 episode format. Instead of retreading DMC 3 they could create a more original story and show how Nero resolves problems without Dante or Vergil around. (you can also have him stop the mass murder in episode 5 cause that was gratuitous and just...not something I wanted to see in a Devil May cry show)

Anyway, way too long rant over. Have fun.

[1-up-chump]

Thinking about my hc for Erik and Charles sexuality (and by extension juggernaut's sexuality by proxy) so let me dump my thoughts here

And it should go without saying but common courtesy isn't so common: this is a personal HC and interpretation of the characters, if you do not like it then you do not read it. Simple :D

So charles never got a chance to explore his sexuality but he did learn about gayness from his step brother cain. however cain's father, and charles stepfather kurt marko, was wildly homophobic and instilled the idea it was wrong and gross on every level. With kurt already harsh on cain, cain projected his internalized homophobia on charles. And charles learned to never bring it up again since this angered his brother more than anything else cain already hated about Charles. Unfortunately this instilled a subconscious uncomfortable feeling whenever charles brings up his own desires outside of "whats socially acceptable" and has yet to mentally unpack that

Meanwhile Erik was in that "i kinda always knew but never met anyone else that bothered me to let me explore" kinda way. Although due to his circumstances he wasn't exactly afforded to explore since he was

Trying not to die

Trying to stop humans killing mutants (at any cost)

Trying to not let grief fueled rage consume him (failed)

So when he met charles he finally was comfortable enough to "test the waters" but due to charles being an idiot with his own emotions Erik initially thought he was straight. And yet charles keeps leading him on with the most homoerotic conversations and chess matches ever so it confused and lowkey pisses off Erik. It keeps him guessing if Charles is gay or just really affectionate. But it still sparks their relationship even when they're "enemies"

So their relationship, despite having chemistry and passion so strong it makes an atom bomb pale in comparison, is so slow burn it's a detriment to them (but mostly everyone else lol)

Charles "oh im not straight" moment literally happens in the most mundane of circumstances when he's lost in his own thoughts one day. And when the realization hits him he panics and tries to shove it back down but its not going away now its out. So the next conversation he has with erik is "testing the waters" and in this moment erik wants to strangle charles harder than he's ever wanted to. But after this moment of, not really a confession but more so of a "hey our relationship is complicated but tbh lets just make it official bc why tf not"

[faellain]

The Accidental Baby Trap Incident

Summary: About four years after the events of First Class, Erik arrives at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters with two little twins who he didn't know existed. Thinking he doesn't know what to do, he runs to Charles, not knowing the state his old friend is in.

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the next morning, erik tiredly takes the twins down to the kitchen, providing them a breakfast of orange juice, apple slices, and toast with butter. he drinks three cups of black coffee and eats a single apple slice. without him there, and with charles in a state, hank has forgone actual coffee for instant like a savage. it might as well be mud as far as erik is concerned.

"i hate toast," pietro tells him and briefly erik wonders how anyone could hate toasted bread.

erik sighs beleagueredly, "when i was young, i'd be grateful for any meal- wanda, do not turn your brother's toast into something else."

"yeah, i don't if i can do that again," she admits sheepishly, pulling the hand that was about to tap her brother's toast away, "i kinda don't know how i did it to the cookies."

"you're young. i didn't know how to master my own mutation till i was older and even then, sometimes i still needed help," erik assures her. wanda happily munches on her apples after that. pietro rolls his eyes.

he cleans up everything, wondering just how to start this day. it wasn't as if his children were full grown adults who he could toss into the danger room. he did not know where to begin training seven year olds. most mutants didn't even manifest until puberty... but his kids were early bloomers.

as he picks up breakfast, he hears footsteps coming around the corner. at first, he assumes it's hank. perhaps the other actually decided to emerge out of his lab at a reasonable hour. but hank walks with a heavy footstep from his mutation. these steps are light, stilted.

"oh!" he hears charles say, "well, uh, hello you two."

"you're the guy who punched dad!" laughs pietro, "you got 'im good!"

erik turns, "pietro-"

charles kneels down to speak with the children at eye level in their chairs, "he told me you have mutations of your own. what can you both do?"

"i run fast!" pietro exclaims before dashing out of his chair, leaving charles' hair whipping against his face. after a mere moment, he comes back with an empty glass which he offers to erik, "here, dad, you can wash this too."

"very impressive," charles tells him and pietro beams.

erik takes the glass as charles stares at it briefly before turning his attention back to the children. most likely it had come from his room. he turns and smiles at wanda.

"and you, little one?" he asks her.

"my powers are kinda funny," she admits, "i usually just use them to hold pietro in place or make things float when i get upset. but i turned snicker-whatevers into chocolate chip cookies yesterday."

finally, charles looks at erik, clear realization of just why erik has come to him finally dawning on him. pietro would grow to be an ordinary mutant, one who would need training and would excell, but not right away. wanda was like nothing they had ever seen before. charles turns back to her, nodding, and squeezing her little hands.

"that's very special. you both are," he tells her and then turns to pietro before moving back to look at both of them, "how about you two go and play in the yard? i have a tire swing out there you might like."

they both cheer and wanda looks at erik, "can we, papa?"

"go ahead. just don't go past the tree," he says. they promise, not that he trusts pietro to abide by that promise. but they both take each other's hands and dash off at wanda's speed.

charles stands, moving to make his own coffee, "they're lovely children… you never told me."

"i didn't know," erik replies, "magda didn't want my life for them."

"doesn't surprise me. vengenance, death of humanity and all that," charles murmurs as he pulls out a mug.

erik notices that he did shower at some point between their arguement and now. his hair lacks the grease and the smell has disappated in favor of the soap charles prefers. even years later, he could smell that soap and know charles was near.

"i don't understand her power," erik cuts to the chase, "i assumed she was telekinetic. and then one day she changed the color of her shirt by wishing it. and now the cookies."

"…you're scared of her," charles says, looking at him again. erik wants to die beneath that gaze.

"i'm scared of what others might do to her."

charles digs out one of the chocolate chip cookies from the pantry, erik resisting his desire to glibly remind charles that those are not a breakfast food. he sniffs it, stares at it before taking a bite and nodding in odd approval. at least his daughter didn't turn them into cookies that tasted bad.

"i suppose we shouldn't be surprised considering just how powerful her father is," charles says absently.

"perhaps only surpassed by a child of yours," hums erik, tiredly. imagning a child with equal or greater telepathic ability to charles is rather insane. he is perhaps the strongest telepath they know, even more powerful than emma.

charles laughs dismissevly, "that will never happen. i was careful before and i don't want one. i never did."

"you opened a school."

"yes. for school aged children with mutations like your children," he reminds erik, tone clipped as he stares at the coffee carafe filling up, "not babies. i shouldn't- it's one thing to teach children, it's another to raise them."

erik goes quiet. that he at least agrees with. at least he had a good example, but he knows a little about charles and raven's upbringing. mostly, frustratingly, from raven. charles knew everything about erik, yet charles hid his life, his pain from him constantly. even raven didn't speak much on their life outside of their inattentive mother who charles loved deeply anyway.

"hank invited me to stay the night after wanda changed the cookies," erik explains, quietly, too awkward. it's so strange to lack the helmet, but have charles in his arm's reach, yet not feel the other sharing his mind, knowing his thoughts. he would never let anyone else do that, "but we can leave."

charles shakes his head, "no. clearly we at least need to figure out what wanda's mutation is. do your- does raven know about them?"

"no," erik explains, "i haven't told any of them. to be honest, i've gone totally radio silent on them. i need to rectify that. give them some lie to keep them passive."

"you're the one who divided us," charles huffs, "it's not like they can tell you no. are you telling me you don't trust angel and raven with your kids?"

"i do," erik assures, "but we have other things on our plate. riptide is… missing. i had him investigating some possible mutants in vietnam and he's disappeared."

"disappeared?" reiterates charles, "should i be concerned? sean and alex were deployed early into this mess."

erik feels his heart speed up, "deployed?"

"sean got drafted," charles explains, "alex decided to enlist so he wouldn't have to go alone."

"and you let them just go? with the military?" erik snaps, "well, of course you did. you would. you and your peace."

"don't turn this into something it isn't," huffs charles, "i hadn't been taking the serum them. i asked sean if he wanted me to try and get him rejected. he told me no. they wouldn't be in any danger if you hadn't turned a million missiles on the government in cuba!"

"what you have always failed to see charles is that we were always in danger!"

charles turns on him rapidly, "not every human is the kind that hurt you."

"it is only a matter of time before they become them," erik snaps, leaving the dried dishes in a rack so he isn't tempted to throw them.

he can feel every knife in the shelf. their fields pull at him. the fridge feels like an atomic bomb, each little component awaiting his command. feeling the push and pull of the fields is his life, its his very nature. just as minds were charles'. but he's shut them out. where normally his feelings would be blaring loudly in charles' mind, he imagines himself as a giant black void to the former telepath.

how can it not be like losing a limb? then, of course, charles lost his legs. erik has lost so many things in his lifetime. his home, his safety, his parents, his autonomy… even charles himself. but he has never lost part of himself. even if they put him in a plastic cube, he could feel the push of magnets where the could not reach them.

"if that's true, then it is because you believe it so," charles replies, taking the carafe and pouring it into a mug.

instead of going for sugar or cream, charles grabs whiskey, angrily dumping it into the bitter drink. erik snatches it fromt he counter.

"i think you have had enough," erik tells him before dumping the entire mug down the drain.

"erik! goddamn you!" charles growls, shoving him almost childishly. his punch had been lucky and he never really had the stomach for true violence.

he takes charles' wrists, holding them tightly as he glares, "i said i think you've had enough."

"you do not get to waltz in here and pretend like we're still friends," charles writhes his wrists angrily, "you stopped being the erik i knew the minute you killed shaw!"

"shaw had to die!" erik replies, baring his teeth. sean had once teased him for his smile being shark-like, but he certainly feels it now. he feels like an angry animal with prey between its jaws, "you will never understand! do you think an absent mother compares at all to things he did to me?!"

charles attempts to kick him in the knee, but erik is stronger and while he doesn't let go, he does fall forward, pressing himself against charles and the counter. as he goes to start shouting again, he notices charles is shaking. he does not look like a frightened doe as one might expect from a doe-eyed man.

instead, he is defiant. there is fear in his eyes, something old, something that has nothing to do with erik. but in the face of erik's anger, charles does not waiver. his body betrays him, but he holds a brave face, a stalwart indignation like an immovable ship, anchored to a seafloor.

the first time erik had kissed charles, they had been sharing a bed as they went to meet sean. all of the two-bed rooms had been booked which left them with either one of them on the floor or both in the bed. originally, erik had planned to take the floor, but charles had pulled him up into the bed.

"you don't think about me the way most people do," charles whispered, the only light coming the street lamps flickering outside, "i don't mean to pry. i can't help it sometimes."

"what do you mean?"

charles smiled softly, rolling his eyes, "you'd think it very silly i imagine. but you always think my eyes are a different shade of blue. it's like you can't decide how to describe them. but you notice them when you think i'm being particularly clever."

erik had blushed, his very obvious feelings being laid bare by the telepath in bed with him. he had admired charles from the minute they had met. how could he not admire the first man to tell him he wasn't alone? the man who had saved his life?

"it helps that you are usually particularly clever when you're not being particularly foolish," erik managed to reply.

this time charles blushed, looking away. his teeth pierced those already pretty red lips slightly. oh. that bastard. he knew what he was doing.

"are you going to do anything about it if i am?" charles asked, apparently not realizing he was reading erik's thoughts. or, if he did, he clearly did not care.

they were so young then. their powers still felt so fresh and untrained, even when they had more control than most. a few items shuddered at that moment when erik did.

ignoring them, he ran a hand up charles' neck to cup his cheek, "i think i'm going to kiss you."

"oh, i very much hope you do."

kissing charles xavier had been so soft. both of them had considered sex that night, but had instead enjoyed the gift of exploring the other's mouth. later, erik would realize charles had been hoping for this because he tasted particularly like gum. he had pressed kisses along soft lips, nipped until charles' lips were swollen, they had gone for each other until both were breathless.

charles had let out soft little gasps and moans. erik had worshipped his lips, his cheeks, his neck. they were like two demigods, entangled, high priests of the other's temple. erik had wanted to devour charles whole. he'd been smooth, kind, gentle, but mischevious. that moment was a fairytale.

this is not like that.

this was a nightmare. from the minute erik's teeth had clicked against charles' own, he knew that it was. there was none of their old kindness to be had. erik hated charles' scratchy beard. he hated that charles clearly no longer knew what he wanted, instead fighting for dominance of the kiss. erik had at first pulled away only for charles to pull him back, bruise his lips, bite his tongue.

erik presses charles back harder, taking back his tongue and shoving it down charles' throat. he wants to choke him with it, he wants to make sure he can't breathe. their teeth click again when charles mirrors the tilt of his head as they both try to deepen the kiss.

did charles want to suffocate as much as erik hopes to do so?

erik pulls back when charles' breath doesn't stop despite that, tugs fiercely on his lip with his teeth. those paled lips look almost back to their former glory, but he even such ferocity has not revived their blushed hues.

"i hate you," charles whispers, voice cracking, bitter, "i hate you."

"the feeling, old friend," erik snaps mockingly, "is mututal."

they dive back in anyway, charles finally breaking a hand free to claw down erik's back. nail marks redden beneath erik's shirt. the action also earns him a hardening in erik's pants, making him smirk against the larger man's lips. instead of giving him what he's asking for, erik wraps a hand around charles' throat.

"if i did not need you," he snarls before trailing off, "do you know how easy it would be?"

it would not be easy. erik isn't even pressing down against charles' neck. all he is doing is holding it, the grip barely there. but- but it changes something in charles' expression. the fear that had disappeated returns. suddenly nails claw at his hand.

"let go, erik, let go."

"i thought you hated me. didn't you expect this?" asks erik, voice mournful as it settles in once again that charles simply does not know what he thinking. how he could never hurt charles like that again.

"please," charles suddenly begs, voice desperate, "please, erik, let me go."

erik backs away like he's been burned, charles turning quickly on his heels as he gasps for air as if erik had been truly choking him. he's running as best that his legs, still stilted, still obviously not walking the way humans with functional spines walk, can take him. without meaning to, he shoves past hank who has finally emerged for breakfast.

hank looks at erik, "what the fuck did you do?"

[starrenati]

I was trying to get it done in time this time, I think I managed. I hope you'll like this chapter. Also I'm getting lost in my owm plot because it wasn't supposed to be this long and complicated, please don't hate me.

Chapter XVII

"Desperate measures"

“We can’t let you just take an anomaly like that back home. It’s dangerous and can ruin everything on this Earth. “ 

“FOR THE HUNDRETH TIME, IT’S ALICE, NO ANOMALY FOR FUCKS SAKE” 

At this point, Wade had to be held down by Logan, so he wouldn’t jump at the woman in front of them. Maybe he didn’t understand what that woman meant, or maybe he did and just did not care. He wanted to bring their girl back, but it seemed that more civilized options won’t work. Logan was on the verge of blowing up as well, but for now they had to try and work with TVA, otherwise, they might lose any chance to get Alice back at all. Not even mentioning others they wanted to save as well, after all he really grew fond of Laura, even if he wasn’t hers Wolverine. 

“Mister Wilson, please calm down. For us, your friend is considered an anomaly, Lumithra if you will, and left uncontrolled they might cause only more problems. What you witnessed was one of them. We can’t have just a random time manipulating monster to walk around like that. Especially if they’re not able to control their power.”

“She’s not a monster.” Logan growled through his clenched teeth. “So instead of helping her, you just decided to send her to the Void and call it a day?” 

“You don’t understand. The aftermath of a timeline getting ripped like that will still be present for us to fix, even if it’s an impossible task for now. She killed several of my men and put one of my best doctors into a catatonic state. And that was done on purpose. Are you even aware of what kind of power she holds? That’s why we either exterminate Lumithras or get rid of them.” 

“What the fuck even is a Lumithra? She’s just Alice, a mutant, I know all of you stuck up idiots hate mutants, but that’s not an excuse.” 

Logan growled once more. To think that nothing changed about that in other universes was sickening. You’d think that a different universe, that seemed to be ahead of his old one, still held to that stupid fear was just enraging. What was so wrong about mutants to them? Sure, it was something new and not really that oftenly seen, but that doesn’t mean that mutants deserve to be killed just for what they are. 

“Lumithras are something more than mutants. Like advanced forms of them, their powers being a genetic mutation but of a very different kind. It doesn’t happen naturally, it comes passed down by a being of higher class. They can be mutants if the mutation of the genome was weak, like Jean Grey if you will.” 

“Jean wasn’t weak.” He scoffed immediately. 

“I didn’t say that she was weak, I said that the pass down of her mutation was weak, that’s why she’s considered only a mutant. “

“So… A level five, omega mutant is considered weak towards Lumithra?”

“To an awakened one that has full control, yes. To one like your friend, absolutely not. But we still needed to get rid of Alice, as she had no control over her powers and random outbursts like the one a few days ago, or two years to the future, if you will, would be happening more often. That’s why we needed to get rid of her and we won’t allow you to drag her back. For the sake of everyone else.” 

In the meantime, Logan had to pierce Wade with his claws just to ensure he wouldn't slither away in anger, ready to start another bloodbath there. Logan did understand where this woman was coming from, but if he learned anything from Charles, it’d be that teaching others how to use their powers is more beneficial than hurting them for being what nature made them. So he won’t give up so easily. 

“So what do you plan to do next? If she’s so dangerous, wouldn’t putting her in the Void only aggravate her? What if she breaks out?” 

Logan had to ask, meanwhile Wade calmed down, which was suspicious how his mood switched from an angry man, who was ready to chew his way out of there just to murder someone to calm down, to sitting almost completely still. It honestly freaked out Logan pretty badly. It all seemed like a sudden nightmare. But he didn’t question it for now. Especially after the wink from Wilson, now he was almost curious about what he came up with. 

“She won’t, she’d have to be able to freely switch dimensions to find a way out. Or find Cassandra, but we ensured her teleportation will be far enough from Nova’s place of stay to make sure Alice won’t reach it. It’s definitely more possible that Allioth will get  her way before she even gets close.”

“That bald bitch is alive? I was sure we killed her when we saved the universe.” 

“That’s another thing your dear friend caused, apparently the timeline snap spread over a few dimensions in various waves.”

“Are… others from the Void also back there?”  Wade asked the question that has been heavy on Logan's head. 

“If you’re wondering about the Deadpool variants, X-23 and the rest of the happy group you’ve met last time, we’re trying to reach them, but unfortunately we don’t have the same way of communication as we had back then, but it’s possible considering the fact that Cassandra is also back.” The heavy silence filled the room. “That’s all I can do for you. If we manage to find X-23 I can try to let you know about it. We will consider bringing her back to you. Also the dog. As they seem particularly important to you. And for now, please leave.” 

Did they really have any choice now, anything other than leaving? Not really. At least they were given some kind of hope, of getting back some of their important people. Well, not only people as Marry Puppins was a dog, but the point still stands. Though, giving up felt wrong, Alice wouldn’t give up on them if it’d be the other way around. She’d move sky and earth to get them back, so they had to do the same thing for her. 

“Wolvie…” Wade chimed. “I got their tempad. We can go there and drag her back anyway. Her and others. But… I doubt we will be heroes after that anymore.” 

Wade pulled out the tempad from his pocket, showing it to Wolverine with a silent question etched on his face. Should they try to do that? Was it worth it?

Tap, tap, tap. A sound similar to a dripping faucet was filling Alice’s mind, other sounds slowly drawn out as she followed that weird line. Or line-like feeling budging her mind since the very beginning of this day. So she decided to close her eyes and just focus on it, it was almost like entering some freaky trance. But she managed to stay there, slowly walls of some kind of room were drawn around her. She took step by step, following that feeling even further. 

No, no, no, no, no.  Someone was repeating that like a personal mantra. She headed around the corner just to see her mother curled up on the floor, repeating that word over and over. Hm, so she must’ve not severed the connection fully before ending up in the Void. Alice took a few steps closer, each one of them echoing in different sounds, that she recognized shortly after. They were her own steps but from different times of her life. Bare feet, heavy boots, heels.. All that follows her here. Was it possible that this place had no time to itself, but was hanged somewhere in between the lines of it? 

She stood over the woman, wondering for a moment what to do. Sure, the suffering was definitely well deserved, but that didn’t mean it should be eternal. 

“I just hope you learned your lesson. See me as a monster still, if you will, but I wouldn’t be able to carry the regret of making you suffer forever.” 

Her voice had an echo as well, an undertone of every voice she ever had. Younger, sick, pretend one, that one with sadness and anger. All of them combined into one, the same one that now seemed to stop a curse from happening, as the other woman stopped repeating herself, looking around, as the room fell to pieces, causing Alice to jump in place and wake up. 

“Nightmare?”  Cassandra asked in a much colder  tone than up until now. 

“Something among these lines. Are you seriously still mad at me for comparing you to humans?” 

“No.” 

Bullshit.  Crossed Alice’s mind but she just waved her hand. Another argument would’ve been pointless. Especially now. Solace felt lighter and that weird feeling was gone, but replaced by a sense of longing. Her first few days here were filled with many emotions and new sensations, but as it all quieted down, she started missing those two familiar faces. As much as she hated them for arguing almost everyday and getting blood on everything, now… Everything seemed dull. Was she cursed to bear that feeling forever? There was no way for them to get into the Void, even worse, for them to pull her out of there. Even if there would be, she wouldn’t want them to risk so much just for her and for something like that. It was dangerous and they were much safer on the Earth, away from this place, especially with the fact that Cassandra still despised them. Alice didn’t even have to read her mind to know that it was true. Getting here just to get her back, could end with something they were both sure of, that they were unable to experience. With their death. Just at that thought, Alice could feel a painful squeeze of her heart. She probably would die right after them. 

“Your mind is so heavy that I don’t have to use my powers to sense that something is bothering you. Can you quit mopping around? It’s annoying.” 

Nova was speaking with a tone of an angry child, that is complaining about its sibling breathing their air. Alice couldn’t really bother less about it. The sense of longing was overwhelming. Maybe choosing death would’ve been better than agreeing to stay there and learn from Cassandra? What was she supposed to do now? 

She just got up from the table, walking over to the window, looking out, still letting her thoughts wander. She really was missing those lazy  mornings when she was on the balcony and the boys were in the kitchen, movie nights, even arguments of some stupid things, or a competition of who can say more down bad thing. That one was always bringing a lot of laughter and sometimes a weird feeling of being ashamed about what just came to their mind. 

“Alice. Stop. “

“Wish I could…” 

“What even is getting you into something like this? I thought I can’t hate you more than I hate you when you talk a lot, but this is way worse, because it’s your mind that won’t shut up.” 

“Well I’m sorry I’m just a human and it’s human to miss people who are important to you. You haven’t missed a single thing in your life ever before?!” 

“And what or who would I miss? This is my life since day one. This. Nothing more.” 

Alice stopped in place, just looking at Cassandra. Sure, she knew it was like that, but the reality of it sinking in was even more powerful honestly. Like a blow to her chest, pushing all air out, 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Sure.”  

“No, I mean it… I’m sorry. I… I forgot to use my brain, it seems.”  She walked closer, sitting down by Cassandra. “I didn’t mean that…” 

She was looking at the woman in front of her, trying to find anything on her face, any indicator of any type of feelings, even if they weren’t the positive ones, anything that would give her an answer. 

“Cassandra… Please. I really didn’t mean that. I-I know no one stayed there for you, no one was there and you had to rely on yourself, but… You know I’m not leaving, right? Not only because it’s impossible, but I promised, after all.” 

“Like that would stop you. Humans promise things all the time just to break that promise, thinking that a simple sorry will fix it.” 

“No. I mean it, if you don’t trust me, use your powers. Check it for yourself. Have some proof. “

She said before she could even think about it. Cassandra rolled her eyes and raised her hand, keeping it up for a few seconds, before putting it on Alice’s temple. Alice slightly winced at that unpleasant and cold feeling, but didn’t pull away. Nova could sink into her mind freely, look for anything she wished to see. And she could see that among all that longing for her old life, Alice was telling the truth. She was staying there, unless her leave will be forced, everything was only proving her truthfulness. Her heartbeat, her mind, her eyes. Only now, Cassandra caught onto the dark eyes peering right into hers, but they weren’t carrying any anger. They were soft, like they wanted to prove to her that she was there not for something malicious, but to actually be there. To stay. Nova could feel a slight tremble in her hand, a weird weakness, that resulted in anger sparking in her. 

“It’s okay. Don’t be mad, all is okay…” 

Alice spoke to her. Softly and slowly, her warm breath brushed against her hand, causing those little hairs to stand up for a moment. Such a weird moment of vulnerability, something she despised in herself, but now, it felt right. Solace.  Maybe the solace was never meant for her to keep but to give, to be what she had written in her name. 

[maybe-im-dark]

🔍 X-Men Origins: Wolverine & X Men 2 - The Cold Manipulation of William Stryker 🔍

Okay, let’s talk about the absolute MASTER of manipulation in X-Men Origins: Wolverine and X Men 2—William Stryker. If you thought this man was just another “mad scientist” villain, buckle up, because we’re about to dive into the layers of how twisted, manipulative, and downright delusional this guy really is.

1. The Ultimate Manipulator: Twisting Truth and Emotion

When Logan confronts Stryker about Kayla's death, we see the FULL extent of Stryker's manipulative skills. He doesn’t miss a beat—looks Logan dead in the eye and says, “I didn’t know it was Victor. I swear on my son’s life.” And for a second, you almost believe him, don’t you? Because he’s just that convincing. But let’s be real: it’s a complete LIE, and what makes it so twisted is that Stryker knows EXACTLY how to push Logan’s buttons.

The thing is, swearing on his son’s life means absolutely nothing to him. Why? Because he HATES his son. In the comics and movies, Stryker’s son is a mutant, and that’s a source of shame and rage for him. He despises mutants with every fiber of his being, even when it's his own flesh and blood. So, in that moment, when he swears on his son’s life, it’s not a gesture of sincerity—it’s an act of cruelty. He knows it’ll manipulate Logan into believing him, and that’s all that matters. Stryker doesn’t care about truth; he cares about control.

Key Point: Stryker’s willingness to use even the most personal aspects of his life as tools for manipulation shows how far he’ll go to get what he wants. He’ll twist any truth, exploit any emotion, just to keep people dancing to his tune.

2. Logan as the Ultimate Experiment

The moment where Logan gets the adamantium injection is the perfect example of how little Stryker values him as a person. When Logan’s heart and brain activity stop, there’s this brief moment where Stryker looks devastated—like he’s just lost something precious. But let’s be clear: he’s not mourning Logan’s death; he’s mourning the failure of his experiment. Stryker isn’t sad that Logan might be gone; he’s ANGRY that his weapon didn’t work. That’s what Logan has always been to him—an experiment, a tool, a weapon.

This man never cared about Logan’s humanity. He never saw him as a person with feelings, memories, or dreams. To Stryker, Logan was just another piece of the puzzle, another project to perfect. And the moment it seemed like that project had failed, Stryker wasn’t heartbroken—he was infuriated. That’s why he doesn’t even flinch when Logan starts to regain consciousness. There’s no relief, no joy, just the cold, calculating realization that his weapon might still be functional.

Key Point: Stryker’s reaction to Logan’s apparent death reveals his true feelings—Logan is nothing more than a tool, a means to an end. There’s no empathy, no connection, just cold, hard science.

3. Stryker’s Fantasy of Being a Hero

Here’s where Stryker’s delusion gets next level. He lives in this fantasy world where he genuinely believes he’s working with mutants to make the world a better place. But let’s be real—Stryker hates mutants. He despises them, fears them, and wants to control them. But instead of facing that reality, he convinces himself that he’s the “good guy,” that he’s fighting the “good fight” to protect humanity from the mutant “threat.”

It’s the ultimate form of cognitive dissonance. He’s not building weapons to protect humanity—he’s building weapons because he wants CONTROL. He wants to be the one who decides how history is written, who the heroes and villains are, and who gets to hold the power. And the most terrifying part? He actually believes his own lies. He’s convinced himself that he’s a hero, that his actions are justified, even as he tortures, manipulates, and murders.

Stryker isn’t just a villain—he’s a man who’s so deeply trapped in his own delusions that he can’t see the monster he’s become. He thinks he’s “saving the world,” but in reality, he’s only saving himself, saving his ego, and building a legacy on the bones of the people he’s destroyed.

Key Point: Stryker’s need to be seen as a hero blinds him to the reality of his actions. He isn’t fighting for a better world; he’s fighting to create a world where he’s in control, where he’s the savior, even if it means becoming the very monster he claims to be fighting.

4. The Warped Sense of Control

Stryker’s obsession with controlling the war against mutants isn’t about “protecting humanity”; it’s about rewriting history to cast himself as the hero. Every lie, every manipulation, every betrayal is just another step toward cementing his own power. He doesn’t care about right or wrong—he cares about winning. And that’s what makes him so dangerous. It’s not that he doesn’t understand that what he’s doing is wrong; it’s that he doesn’t care, as long as it means he gets to write the ending of the story.

5. “Only I Understand You, Logan” – The Offer to Join Him Again

In X2: X-Men United, Stryker tries to tempt Logan to join him once more, saying, “You were always an animal, Logan. I just gave you claws.” And there it is—the classic manipulation. He preys on Logan’s fear, his sense of not belonging, and tries to convince him that only he understands him, that only Stryker can help him find his place in a world that sees him as a monster.

But let’s be clear: if Logan had accepted Stryker’s offer, it wouldn’t have been a partnership. It would’ve been enslavement. Stryker would have used Logan’s power, his rage, his pain, and twisted it into something monstrous. He would’ve used Logan to kill his own friends, likely through mind control, and then basked in watching Logan spiral into guilt and self-hatred once he snapped out of it. Because that’s what Stryker does—he takes the broken pieces of people and molds them into weapons of his own making.

Key Point: Stryker’s offer to Logan isn’t about understanding him—it’s about owning him. It’s about taking Logan’s pain and using it as fuel to further his own twisted agenda. And the worst part? He’s so damn good at making you believe that he’s the only one who truly gets you.

When he looks at Logan, he doesn’t see a man—he sees a weapon. When he looks at mutants, he doesn’t see people—he sees threats to be eliminated or tools to be used. And that’s why he’ll never be the hero he pretends to be. Because a hero fights for people. A hero values life. And Stryker? Stryker only values power.

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TL;DR: William Stryker is the ultimate manipulator, using lies, emotional exploitation, and self-delusion to control everyone around him. He doesn’t care about mutants; he doesn’t care about making the world a better place. All he cares about is control, power, and rewriting history to make himself the hero. He sees Logan not as a person but as a weapon, and his disappointment at Logan’s apparent death is the purest reflection of that. Stryker will always be trapped in his own fantasy, unable to see that he’s the real villain in his story.