#day 11: mutation

[little-pondhead]

Day 11: Mutation

Even the animals change in the Ghost Zone.

[owlfacenightkit]

Day 11: Mutation

Or aka I like the creature-ify characters and y’all can see it here

Realized I could have gone with some sort of body horror too late. Well, I’ll just tuck that idea away for later

[dannnnnny666]

Day 11: Mutation

I wrote this while sick and tired so sorry it aight the best.

It didn’t seem too bad at first.

All it was was just some small rashes under his arms. They didn’t even hurt a lot!! But they got worse and worse and worse. 

What had previously been just some small rashes turned into large, angry blisters that seethed with malicious intent. It felt as if something was trying to escape his body, and the pain confined him to bed for multiple days.

After days of just lying in bed in pain, strangle relief washed over him as if the pressure on his sides had finally been released. And with that release of pressure, Danny finally fell into a painless sleep.

The next morning, Danny didn’t feel any pain anymore, as if it had never even happened.

In excitement for a new day, he raced to his dresser, grabbing a fresh set of clothing, and began to get dressed. As Danny was dressing, he felt a little uncomfortable as he put his shirt on, so he decided to look in the mirror.

To Danny's surprise and horror, his body had grown two extra arms!

[five-rivers]

Hunger Chapter 2

“Well, if it's the lone star tick, that only makes you allergic to red meat, right?” said Sam.  

“Yeah, I guess,” said Danny, staring hard at the plate of chicken nuggets Tucker had just pulled from the microwave.  He was also under the impression that the tick thing got you all at once, not gradually if rapidly over the course of a few weeks, with the effects going from thinking meat tasted off, to just ‘not being in the mood’ for it, to actively throwing up upon taking a bite of a hamburger.  

He tried to determine if the faint sense of nausea he felt while looking at the chicken was from his memory or, well, from looking at the chicken.  

“Cheese was fine,” observed Tucker.  “Eggs were fine.”

They had been.  Danny picked up a chicken nuggets and tried to ignore how his skin crawled as he did so.  Before he could double-guess himself, he popped it into his mouth and swallowed as quickly as possible, hardly even chewing.  

His body immediately rebelled.  

Luckily, he had a good mental map of Tucker's house, so he was able to dive through the wall and into the bathroom before he started puking his guts out.  

“Not the tick, then,” said Tucker, sounding like he was going to barf himself.  

“You know,” said Sam, “I'm all for having more vegetarians in the world, but I think you should maybe… see someone about this.”

Danny finished emptying his digestive system and went to the sink to rinse out his mouth.  

“Who?” he asked, tone matching the bitter taste.  “It's not like I can go see a doctor.  Half ghost and all.”

“I know that,” said Sam.  “I meant your ghost friend.  The one that helped you with your other changes.  The freckles and skin color and ghost puberty stuff.”

“Oh,” said Danny.  “I don't really want to bother him too much, though.”

And, when he wasn't actively experiencing the need to be eaten, or the disorienting second childhood that came after, he was rather shy about the whole arrangement.  Understandably so, he thought.  

Sam crossed her arms and stared at him, unimpressed, through the bathroom mirror.

“What happens when this does spread to eggs and cheese?  Or fruit?  Or vegetables?  Would you go see him then?”

Danny grimaced and went ghost, hoping he could get rid of the foul taste in his mouth that way.  If anything, it made it worse.  

“Whoa!  What's that on your back?” asked Tucker, pointing.  

Danny looked back at him, alarmed at the tone of voice, then twisted so he could see his back in the mirror.  Pushing up on his suit from below were two bumps, just under his shoulder blades.  He quickly unzipped and pulled down the top of his suit.  It wasn't something stuck on his back.  It was part of his back.  Two upwards distortions of skin.  

“I don't know,” he said.  He touched one of the tiny knobs.  It was sensitive, though not in a bad way.  On the other hand, it didn't really feel like skin.  More like… petals, maybe.  Soft and silky.  

He swallowed.  As strange as it may sound, being eaten had removed some of the sense of wrongness Danny had felt about his body since the Accident.  But this… this mutation… he didn't know what to do with this.  

But maybe Clockwork would.

.

Half curled in Clockwork's lap, listening to him rhythmically list off things he thought were appetizing, things that Danny could feel his core taking special note of, he didn't know why he'd been so nervous.  

When Clockwork finished his list (which included things like statues, silver, gemstones, the smell of lilacs and lilies, chocolate, vanilla, cream, sugar, and the sound of clocks) Danny looked up.  “So my wings will bloom… like a flower?”

“They tend to be similar in appearance, yes.”

“And my body will change to be tasty.”

“As you ripen.”

“And then you'll eat me, and that's it?  Things will go back to normal?”

“What do you mean by normal?”

“You know.  Like it usually is for me.”

“You will have to grow up again, and when you near ripeness, the wings will grow back, but, to some degree, yes.”  He paused for a moment, playing with Danny's hair.  “Once your wings bloom, you will find yourself compelled to seek out places with high concentrations of ectoplasm, so you can feed.  You may also find yourself losing mobility, either from physical changes or psychological pressure.  At least, those are all things experienced by other ghosts with this adaptation.  I cannot tell you your future, after all.”

Danny wrinkled his nose at the obvious loophole-ing, but pressed on.  “To make it easier for someone to find and eat me.”

“Yes.”

“And this will happen again?”

“It may happen more slowly, if you are not under quite so much pressure to improve, but yes.”  Clockwork started to braid some of Danny's longer hairs. 

“Can I, um, can I come here, when I start to bloom, then?”

“Of course,” said Clockwork.  “I believe the garden will be most suitable, should you feel the need to plant yourself, but your bedroom is also available, and you may choose any space you like.”

Danny hummed.  “And you'll still eat me?”

“Of course.”

Danny's stomach rumbled, jolting him out of his half-doze and reminding him that he'd thrown up everything he'd eaten today.  

He blushed, then blushed harder when he realized that, without his top on, Clockwork could probably see the blush working its way all down Danny's back to the base of his spine.  

Clockwork chuckled.  “Speaking of eating, growing wings is hungry work.  Come.”

Reluctantly, Danny got up and followed Clockwork to the kitchen he had stocked with human things.  Danny hadn't thought about it much, but he must have made it especially for Danny, for when he was growing up again after being eaten.  

Clockwork reached into the fridge and removed a large, clay jug of something, then a smaller glass bottle full of something red like wine.  He examined the bottle for a while.  “I could,” he said, after a moment, “accelerate the growth of your wings.  Just this once.”

“Why only once?”

“The cycle of consumption and regrowth would become unbalanced if done too frequently.  You may eventually wind up growing wings shortly after hatching.”

“Yikes,” said Danny.  “Um.  I think I'll pass this time and just go at the normal rate.”

Clockwork nodded and put the glass bottle away.  Then, from the jug, he poured Danny a cup of what looked a lot like thick paint but smelled so good Danny's mouth was watering before Clockwork even gave it to him.  It tasted a lot like a vanilla milkshake, and as soon as he was done drinking it, he fell asleep.  

.

“He says it's normal,” said Danny.  

“Really?” said Sam, with all the sarcastic bite a goth teenager could manage, which was a lot.  

“The type of ghost I am doesn't eat other ghosts, and since I'm half human, that crosses over to animals.  It's not going to get worse, it's just…” He sighed.  “A thing.”

“And the stuff on your back?” asked Tucker.

“Same kind of thing.  They're like antlers.  They'll fall off eventually.”

“Well,” said Sam, when Danny failed to elaborate, “I can at least give you some vegetarian meal recipes.”

.

Danny found himself eating more sweets.  And more cream.  A lot more cream, since usually he didn't eat any.  He wasn't sure why, since it wasn't like eating those would make him taste like them.  Unless it did?  Ghost logic was strange, sometimes.  

Whatever.  It was food.  It wasn't like he was eating flowers.  

.

The process of growing wings was both painful and satisfying.  Painful, because the growing buds made his back ache in both forms, despite only existing in one.  Satisfying, because the bigger they got the less wrong they felt.  

Like he was growing back into himself.  

.

Okay, so he was eating flowers.  It wasn't like he was eating anyone's jewelry.  

.

He'd thought he'd have to change his jumpsuit to accommodate the wing buds.  He didn't.  His jumpsuit changed on its own, not stretching, but weaving itself over the buds as they grew.  It was like the suit was part of the buds, too, that way.  

Even the seams lined up with the edges of the petals.  

.

He booted Johnny Thirteen from the jewelry store, then froze, looking at the display cases.  His stomach rumbled a little.  

No.  Just, no.  He wasn't an animal.  He had control over himself.  He wasn't doing that.  

.

In the dead of the night, he woke from the kind of deep, heavy sleep he only got when he had truly exhausted himself.  His core sang with resonance.  

With an automatic response that came from being taught it from early childhood twice, Danny rolled out of bed and followed the pull down the stairs and into the basement.  He transformed sluggishly, groaning a little as his wing buds came into being.  They were still furled, but they had grown long and heavy and while the weight and tension could feel good in some positions, the same tension could stress every muscle in his body if he moved the wrong way.  

He flew through the Zone on autopilot, following the resonance all the way home to Long Now.  He snuggled into Clockwork's side, seeking the core that had called him.  

“Hi,” he said, tiredly.  “What's up?”

“Hello, Daniel.  Your wings are about to bloom.  I thought it best to call you here.”

“Oh, thanks,” said Danny.  

“Here, I've set something up for you in the garden.”

“Hm?  Why?” asked Danny, letting Clockwork steer him.  

“The garden has the best ectoradiation and flow of ectoplasm.”

Those things did sound good…

When they got to the garden, in all its multi-season glory, Clockwork took Danny down a path he'd never noticed before.  At the end of it was a cool, pleasant glade, with a small pond and a wooden bench and table.  On one side of the pond was the statue of a veiled angel, holding a mirror.  Directly opposite the mirror, on the other side of the pond, was a clear space and a a moss-covered rock that was just the right size for a pillow.

Clockwork guided Danny down to kneel by the rock, then to rest his head on it so he was looking at the mirror.

The first thing that Danny noticed was that Clockwork had arranged him in the classic, semi-fetal “baby angel” pose.  The second thing was that it was absurdly comfortable, the position perfectly accounting for the weight of his wings.  

“I thought you would like to see,” explained Clockwork.  

Danny, still only half awake, was about to ask see what when his whole body was seized with acute, anticipatory tension.  

The covering of his jupsuit peeled away first, revealing the silver-freckled purple of the outside of his wings.  Then, with a sticky, tearing sound, the petals themselves separated, falling open to the sky.  There were three for each wing, their insides a dull, clouded green.  

He trembled with the sudden influx of energy.  He could taste the sky, the wind, the delicate variations of ectoenergy.  But none of that energy was available for him.  He could feel it being stored away, packed tight and out of reach, a treat for whoever ate him.  

He tried to stay awake, but the exertions of his new functions bore him under swiftly.  He didn't even remember closing his eyes.  

.

An advantage of his wings senses was that he knew exactly where he was when he woke up.  Directly in front of his face was a ladle with a note that said “stay hydrated!” on it, and a plate full of… clock parts?

He picked one up - a small silver plate with emeralds pressed into it - and popped it in his mouth without thinking about it.  

The freak out was immediately followed by the rest of the clock parts disappearing. 

Danny's jumpsuit was shredded and didn't seem to be reforming like it usually did, so Danny put on the pair of pajama pants that had been left, folded, on the bench.  Then, he went to look for Clockwork.  

(Stepping inside made his wings droop ever-so-slightly.  The environment outside really was better.)

“Thanks for calling me over,” said Danny, floating closer to Clockwork, “and for the, um.  Snack.  But should probably go back to Amit–”  Danny was hit with a massive wave of disorientation.  He very much wanted to go home, but at the same time, he was completely certain that was a bad idea.  He would have fallen out of the air if Clockwork hadn't steadied him.  His core whined, confused, and a very small part of him was pleased to detect a slightly mechanical, ticking note to the noise.  

“Daniel,” said Clockwork, very gently, “Amity Park is back on Earth, outside the Zone.  There wouldn't be enough ectoplasm there for you.” 

“But,” said Danny, uncertainly.  

“Can you turn human right now?” asked Clockwork.  

Danny tried.  He couldn’t.  His wings held him firmly in ghost form, refusing to be banished before their task was done and Danny was being digested in Clockwork’s stomach.  

“I intend to keep our arrangement from earlier,” said Clockwork, before Danny could panic.  “You will not be missed.”

Danny relaxed.  The times Clockwork had eaten him, he'd stopped time until Danny could go home.  “Thanks,” he said.  

Clockwork nodded graciously, then pulled Danny towards him to kiss his forehead.  “I can already tell that you'll taste delicious in no time.  Please, relax.  There is no hurry.”

.

“I think I have more freckles than before,” said Danny.

“Indeed,” said Clockwork, setting a bowl of what Danny knew was just cream, sugar, vanilla, and ectoplasm mixed together in front of him.  

That didn’t stop his body from craving the mixture like nothing else.  

Clockwork stopped him from grabbing it, and emptied a small jar of flower petals into it.  Then flakes of silver and diamond dust.  

Danny made a hungry noise.  One layer of it was human enough, but whirring and ticking and something bell-like were clearly audible.  

(Danny could not match any clocks, yet, but he was working on it)

“They’re getting bigger, too,” he observed, after guzzling half the bowl.  

“I see,” said Clockwork.  

“And they feel different.  The skin.”  The freckles felt smoother, slicker, and cooler than the skin around them.

Clockwork picked up one of Danny’s hands and ran his thumb over a tight cluster of freckles.  “Like icing on a cake.”

Danny took his hand back and finished off the bowl.  “Do you think I’ll taste like cake.”

“I think you will taste like yourself,” said Clockwork.  “Sweeter than any cake.”

.

Danny tried to sleep in the room he’d grown up in, the last two times, but the air in there felt so stale when compared to the garden, and he found himself sleeping at the pond, resuming the position Clockwork had put him in the first time.  

Well, he supposed Clockwork had foreseen how well it would work.  

Clockwork spent a lot of time there, too, sitting at the bench and reading out loud to Danny as he dozed.

.

The freckles started to merge together into broad silvery-white patches.  When those patches were around a joint, the joint became hard to move.  Extra force was needed to bend the tough, shiny, skin.  And within those silver patches, gems grew, set into his skin like bearings in watches.  

.

Danny’s wings started to pale.  Streaks of color - silver, bronze, blue, palest lilac and pink - made appearances, organizing themselves into complex fractal patterns.  

.

“I know I’m sleeping more,” said Danny, “but I don’t know how much more.”

They were still in the garden.  Clockwork was rubbing a cream into Danny’s back, near his wings.  There were complex structures there, under his skin, woven through his ectoplasmic muscles and around his bones, and they were working hard, all the time.  Even in the best position Clockwork could put him in, they often ached.  

And even the satisfying ache of a job well done was still an ache.  

“How much time you spend here doesn’t matter,” said Clockwork.  “You should sleep as much as you need to, and not worry about it.”

.

When Danny woke up, he couldn’t open his right eye.  He looked at the mirror across the pond and saw that a silver patch had completely covered the eyelid.  

He groaned and tried to push himself up.  Tried.  His wrist didn’t bend when he told it to.  He glared at it, one-eyed.  Silver had circled it, too, and the thumb on that hand.  He tried to bend it again, and had some success, but as soon as he stopped actively forcing it, it returned to the position it was in before.  

A quick check showed that his eye and wrist weren’t the only body parts affected.  His left hip was partially covered, and so was a great deal of his spine.  

This would have been a much bigger problem if he couldn’t fly.  

“I can bring you breakfast in the garden,” said Clockwork.  “You don’t want to be stuck in an uncomfortable position.”

Danny was already itching to go back to the garden.  His wings had started to produce a thin, fragrant nectar from their bases the other day, and since then, sitting upright made his back feel bloated and leaky.  

He opened his mouth to say as much, but instead of a human voice, a complex series of ticks and chimes rolled out.  The ticks sent pleasing vibrations through his bones and flesh, and the chimes hummed in his throat.  It was all completely incomprehensible to him, but it felt good.

He glanced up at Clockwork, who was smiling.  “Go on,” Clockwork said.

Danny grinned - skin moving strangely around the silver patches - and started to chatter.  

.

The next day, Danny couldn’t open either of his eyes.  The air smelled strongly of vanilla and lilac.  

“Don’t worry, Daniel,” said Clockwork as he tipped a cup of cream into Danny’s mouth, “I will take pictures of what you look like ripe.”

.

Having spent so much time at Long Now, Danny hadn’t released the cold energy that naturally built up in his core over time.  It spread outwards, now, freezing him from the inside out even as the silvery-white coating his skin did the same from the outside in.  

But it did not touch his wings, which stayed soft and flexible and took in energy and ectoplasm at the same steady rate.  

.

“I wonder if you are even aware of all the sounds you are making,” said Clockwork, fondly, as he rubbed Danny’s back in that way that felt so good.  “They’re enough to make me want to eat you right away, but I can tell you aren’t quite ripe yet.”  He patted Danny’s back.  “Just a little longer.”

.

Danny knew when he was ripe.  Not from any external stimulus, but because something like a switch popped up in his brain.  Not a literal switch, of course, he wasn’t hallucinating, but he knew that if he flipped it, if he made this one, last, tiny conscious decision, he would send out a signal that said eat me, I’m tasty!

He flipped the switch.  

.

(The next thing he consciously remembered, he was hatching from an egg in Clockwork’s hands.)

[theleslistuff]

Danny may 2024

Day 11 Mutation

The ice beast

Second part of; https://www.tumblr.com/theleslistuff/697151428019486720/the-ice-king-no-one-knows-au-but-what-if-dannys?source=share

Ghost king Danny au, Nobody knows au, Feral ghost puberty au

Warnings; body horror, loss of humanity and autonomy, self harm, attempt to suicide

Danny has taken over the ghost zone in matter of days, the title of king is rightfully his anyways, there was no real opposition.

But he could not help but to feel insecure...

Every royal seems to look at him in pity, talk slower to him as if he could not understand, except for prince Aragon who would hold a proud grin around him as if the dragon Lord knew something he didn't knew.

Even so, he liked to have him as a company, feeling he's treating him normally unlike his annoying sister who would try to approach him like all the others with slow pet-like talk.

-Shut up! -

The ghost boy yelled at the lady, not really listening to anything she said... Not wanting to recognize he barely understands anything in his last 3 meetings, he used to understand when everyone talked slowly despite how annoying it was, with Aragon he doesn't understand anything at all, but feeling comfort in him talking to him like he understands has made him agree to sign every paper he brings.

That's the reason for Dora's visit.

-Shh... It's alright my liege... I'm just... Trying to make you... See, my brother... Will take your crown... When ghost puberty ends... -

The ghost lady said as slow and understandable as possible, like talking to a wild animal, it was evident for the horns, sharp fangs, tail, spines and fur on their king who used to be a humanoid ghost, he's going through an awful ghost puberty and unlike the far frozen (who he refused to call them for help), Danny has been acting more... feral.

-I don't care!, get out! -

He yelled at her as he pushed her out side, he was not angry for something he didn't understood, he is angry because he no longer understood a word.

-This should have stopped, why is it not stopping?! -

The ghost boy exclaimed as he looked at his hands..., his nails have gotten longer and black, the fur has covered his skin completely, as he turned his hands to see his palms, it's evident de dark color on his fingertips and a bigger patch on his palm with no hair in those areas and getting gradually numb as the black skin swells it's evident those are no longer hands but just...

Paws

He clenched his hands into a fist, not wanting to see his disfigured hands.

Pacing in circles around the meeting room tries to calm himself down.

-It's ok..., I'm the king now..., I don't have to be in disposal all the time..., I'll just... Stay here until it stops... -

He said to himself, he doesn't notice he has been purring and growling when he walks, but when he finally does, he abruptly stops, his tail slapping the floor in anger makes him finally snap and let go a roar as he grabs the long tail and tries to rip it off, making large cuts with his claws and teeth... He has gotten past the point he could cut it long ago...

He winced in pain when one cut reached a nerve, he dropped the tail and allowed it to heal back.

Danny wanted to cry and scream, but he couldn't show weakness, he couldn't show he was not in control of his own body and he was not a full ghost...

He feels his face ache..., he knows when something in him aches the next time he sees it, it's a monstrous new version of it.

This makes his heart sink

he puts his hands on his face in a poor attempt to stop it, the ache turns into full pain as his mandibles began to crack and stretch.

He let go of his face and screamed, dropping on his knees as he did.

The process never stopped and he could feel his jaw open wider as it resembled more a muzzle, with his gums turning black as the little human teeth he had sharpened and reshaped all along the muzzle, his tongue turns green and rough resembling a feline tongue, his nostrils began to bleed as they were forced to grow wider and change their position and even color and texture resembling a canine nose.

But as soon as it started, it stopped.

He was panting exhausted for the change, even so he raised a hand to his face, immediately feeling a snout similar to the far frozen people..., His snout...

He immediately put down his hand and got up, he hasn't noticed his back got slightly curved too, all thanks to the cape he wears... But the shock of the muzzle is too much for him.

-I'm... A beast... -

The boy said with a strange feeling because of the new muzzle, some saliva is dripping from it, totally horrified and grossed out he runs around the room trying to find something... Anything to end this, to not feel this any longer and he knows his claws are not enough, when he finds a sword in the room he's almost relieved as he holds it... Pointing at his core, laughing and crying as he prepares to dig it inside of his chest, he raised it high and...

An ecto blast threw the sword away from his hands.

He turned around to see the responsible...

Dora didn't wait for him to react as she rushed by his side and hugged him.

-It's ok...-

She said in a soft tone..., he could not understand it, but it made him feel... Safe.

He hugged her back and cried.

-I don't... Want to be a... Monster... -

She didn't answer, it was no use... He could not understand her and she knows she could not lie about his destiny...

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

in the refrigerator light

summary: you are somehow unprepared to run into Logan while on the quest for a midnight snack... in the house you both live in. wc: 1.9 k a/n: to be fair I did warn you that this would happen. I have a few more ideas kicking around in my head, but feel free to send requests if you have any! this doesn't take place during any particular movie, fyi, but you and Logan are both teaching at the school warnings: fluffy fluff, mutant!reader, empathic powers!reader, soft!Logan

You should have been asleep. Even after choosing to stay on at the school past your education, you’d had a hard time shaking habits of the past. It still felt strange to walk freely into professor only areas, and you were always in bed by 11:00 pm every night. Sneaking down to the kitchen to steal one of the chocolate bars you knew Scott had stashed deep in the back of a cabinet felt wrong, but the siren song was too strong to resist. 

You’d been quiet, making sure to avoid the creaky stair (third from the bottom on the right) before shuffling into the kitchen. You rubbed at your eyes as you made your way to the proper cabinet. The only problem being that it was much higher up than you remember. It was times like these that made you wish for a more helpful mutation, like telekinesis or at least a few extra inches of height. You struggled for a few moments, on your tippy toes, stretching your arm as far as you could reach before you gave up. You sighed, raking your hands through your hair and making your peace with the fact that chocolate was not in your future tonight. 

“Scoot over, bub.” You jumped and let out a small shriek, before clasping a hand over your mouth. It was rare that anyone got the drop on you these days, your power more finely tuned and emotions tending to be strong around the manor, but your guard was decidedly down in the place you’d called home for so many years. But Logan was an exception to many rules. HIs hand gently gripped your wrist, pulling you against his chest for a brief moment before moving to stand in front of the cabinet. He reached up into the cabinet, the zip up hoodie he wore pulling up to expose a few inches of his stomach before pulling down a few bars of chocolate with ease. He smiled, the crinkles by his eyes more prominent in the low light of the kitchen. You did your best to appear like you hadn’t just been ogling him. 

“How did you know-”

“Scott’s shit at secrets.” He huffed, rolling his eyes. “You think he’d learn by now to not be such a loud mouth in a house full of people with enhanced hearing”. 

Your laugh was quiet, muffled by your hand in the interest of not waking the others. “Well, in that case, I hope one of those is for me.” 

Logan shrugged, eyes full of mirth. “What’ll you give me for it?” 

You blinked, unsure of yourself. You weren’t used to this Logan, yet. He was usually gruff and reserved, always reluctant to give into the kids in his history class that were trying to derail the lesson with a joke or two. He’d been playful a few times in your presence, and it almost always made you worried that the other shoe was about to drop. Seeing him in pajama pants and a soft grey sweatshirt only added to the strangeness situation. 

For the briefest moment, you considered using your powers. A single touch and you would know exactly how he was feeling. It was a blessing and a curse, to be able to be sure of how others were feeling with a single touch. A god-send on intel gathering or stealthy missions, a terrible temptation at midnight alone in the kitchen of the manor with the man you had harbored a crush on for as long as you’d known him. You make to grab one of the bars out of his hand, but he is too fast for you, quickly lifting them over his head. Your eyes narrowed. 

Fine, two can play at this game. You roll your shoulders back, drawing up your courage. “Depends what you want for it.” 

Logan grinned, dropping his arms and holding the bars behind his back. “Well, what I don’t want is to be an accomplice in your quest for cavities. Chuck’d have my head if he found out I had a part to play.”  

“I’m a big girl, Logan. I can take care of myself” You grab for the chocolate, but he’s too quick for you. For a brief moment, the two of you stare at each other, the moment charged. You lunged for the chocolate again, but Logan is already halfway across the kitchen, waving the chocolate around teasingly. 

“Logan, please” you laugh, following around the island. He cocked his head to the side, smirk playing at the corner of his lips. You were seconds away from stomping your foot and demanding he hand the chocolate over, when his smirk grew into a grin. 

“Alright bub,” he made his way around the island, depositing one of the chocolate bars in your hand. “You know I can’t say no to you.” 

You did your best to tamp down the butterflies that suddenly made a home in your stomach, but his smile was so gentle and he looked so soft, it was hard not to feel a little lovestruck. You snapped a piece of the bar off, and held it out to him. You dutifully busied yourself with breaking off a piece for yourself, ignoring the way that his affectionate gaze seemed to never leave you. 

“You’re not usually up this late,” he says, holding his hand out for another piece. You shrug, dropping another section into his hand. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” 

“Welcome to the club.” You knew that Logan had trouble sleeping, he was usually the first one hunched over a cup of coffee in the mornings, steadfastly ignoring inquiries into how he slept. 

“I, um” You hesitated. Usually offers of using your powers didn’t go well. You took a breath, steadying yourself. The worst he could say was no, right? “I could help with that, if you want.” 

Logan reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. You could tell your eyes were the size of saucers, but you couldn’t find words. After a few moments, Logan took a step back, shaking his head slightly. You blinked owlishly, taking a breath to steady yourself. 

“That’s sweet of you, bub. But I wouldn’t want to tucker you out.” It was no secret around the house that although you had a less physical mutation, it still took some of your energy. Sensing emotions was as natural as breathing, but influencing them was newer, and took much more focus. 

You pointedly glanced at the clock over the stove, noting that it was well past any reasonable bedtime, before facing Logan once more. “That actually sounds really nice.” He mumbled something about not wanting to take advantage of you, but the words died in his throat when your hand found his own. You looked up at him through your lashes, hoping that he would be able to see how earnest you were being. “I don’t want to force you, but I want to be asleep more than anything, and I can tell that you are too wound up about something to even begin to fall asleep.” 

His thumb stroked over the back of your hand a few times, before he stepped around you and led you out of the kitchen. You expected him to turn towards the living room, where you’d caught him ‘resting his eyes’ a few times in the middle of the day. Instead, he turned right making sure to skip the creaky stair (third from the bottom on the right) and right up to the door of your room. 

“A bit presumptuous, no?” You asked, before opening the door and walking through. 

Logan rolled his eyes, leaning against your doorframe. “I was there the first time you tried this. Figured it was best that no one has to pick you up off the floor.” 

You felt your face grow hot, remembering the unmitigated disaster that had occurred the first time Charles suggested that this application of your powers was a possibility. Your chin tilted up, doing your best to project confidence. “Well, it’s been a while since then, I’ve gotten better.” 

If the lighting had been better, you would have seen the faintest pink blush coloring his cheeks. “Rogue’s in my room.” You couldn’t help it, your eyebrows shot up near your hairline. “She and Bobby got into a fight, she wanted somewhere she would be left alone.” His hands were twisting in the pockets of his sweatshirt as he ducked his head down low. 

“Is that why you were prowling around the kitchen?” He rolled his eyes, but nodded all the same. “Well, do you wanna stay here tonight?” He looked like he was about to object, but you held your hand up, effectively silencing him. “You’re doing a favor for Rogue, let me do one for you.” 

“Thought you were already doin’ me a favor, sweetheart.” He protested, all while moving towards your bed. 

You perched on the edge of your bed, consciously doing your best to keep your heart rate in check. The students always joked that between Charles and Jean’s mind reading and Logan being able to hear cheaters hearts speeding up, it wasn’t even worth it to try and cheat in class. It hadn’t occurred to you that if he could hear your heart fluttering, he could definitely hear the measured deep breaths you were taking to mitigate the issue. 

You reached for his hand, and he accepted it readily. His palm was shockingly smooth under yours, it must be from his regenerative powers. Your thumb gently ran across his knuckles, still slightly red from the training session he’d had with some of the students earlier in the day. You tugged on his arm slightly, and he lowered himself down onto the bed beside you. “I thought that it’s important to work as a team, sometimes.” 

“You spyin’ on me, bub?” You sheepishly meet his eyes, but find nothing but tenderness waiting for you. “I’ll try to forgive you.” He drops a kiss on your knuckles, before motioning for you to lay down. “I’ll take the floor.” 

You tightened your grip on his hand. If he really wanted to, he could have broken away easily. Instead, he paused, eyebrows raised and waiting for an explanation. “Not much of a favor if your back hurts in the morning from sleeping on the floor” you shrugged. 

“Only if you’re sure-”

“Just get in the damn bed Logan.” He grinned, pulling back the covers and slipping into the bed. You followed shortly after, and slipped your hand back into his. The both of you laid in silence for a few moments, adjusting to your new arrangement. You were nice and toasty warm, able to feel the heat radiating off him under the covers. You were in the middle of working up the courage to actually use your powers, when soft snores began to emanate from the other side of the bed. You chanced a glance towards him only to find his lashes gently fanned out over his cheeks, and his chest rising and falling with his steady breathing. 

After a few moments, you followed him into dreamland. In the morning, you woke up with his arm firmly around your waist, feeling fully rested for one of the first times in your life. Again, you waited for the awkwardness to come, for your face to flush and your stammer to pick back up, but you were left waiting.

feedback is very much appreciated, as I’ve never written for Logan before! let me know what you think <3

next part

[sbnkalny]

A mutated Deviljho variant, driven mad by its overpowering Hunger

souin

[yeosgoa]

10:11 • ғᴇ̀ᴄᴏɴᴅᴇʀ (NSFW)

♡ assistant!Hongjoong x witch!afab!reader

♡ academia, witch, smut

♡ WC • 3845

♡ Warnings!! (tags) • Sex potion, witchcraft, swearing, kissing, praise, spit/drool, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, edging, overstimulation, handjob, titjob, blowjob, manhandling, fingering, creampie, breeding, lactation, multiple positions, anal, knotting, semi-public sex, mutation, vampirism, reader wears long nails, reader has fangs, reader is implied to be shorter than Hongjoong. (pls lmk if I missed anything.)

♡ A/N: this isn't proofread, will do sometime in the future. féconder means fertilizer/pollinate in French if I'm not mistaken. Any French speakers feel free to correct me.

♡ ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ

ೋ❀❀ೋ═══ ❀ ═══ೋ❀❀ೋೋ❀❀ೋ═══ ❀

 The rain pattered on the window rather heavily. You and your assistant, Hongjoong were in your school’s greenhouse, while you finished up on your latest potions and he read to you.

   “It is the eve of St. George’s Day. Do you not know that tonight, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are going to?” Hongjoong recited, pacing slowly back and forth behind you. The novel ‘Dracula’ is in his right hand while his left hand rests behind his back. His glasses perched right on his sharp pointed nose as he tilted his head to the side continuing. “She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, but without effect. Finally, she went down on her knees and implored me not to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting. It was all very ridiculous but I did not feel comfortable. However, there was business to be done, and I could allow nothing to interfere with it. I th-”

   “Yes come here, business,” You interrupted right then, beckoning him over. Hongjoong placed a ribbon in between the pages before closing the ages-old novel. He walked over to you until you were side by side, and he looked down at you.

   “Yes, darling?” He raised a brow a bit, watching as you poured a yellowish iridescent liquid into a rather small goblet. “What's this?”

   You handed him the goblet, looking up into his eyes, “it’s supposed to suppress arousal.” You inform, turning back to the pot where you grabbed a bottle to store the rest in.

   “It’s supposed to make me not horny?” He clarifies, looking intently at the potion. You nod in response, “Exactly.”

   “How long is it supposed to take effect?” Hongjoong takes a smell of it, it smells of Gingko Biloba, Red Ginseng, and Yohimbe. There’s also a dollop of a poppy scent in there too. “I’m not sure, we'll just have to see.” You reply, watching the rain pour outside.

   Hongjoong takes a swig, swallowing the potion that felt rather thick in his throat. The taste itself was bitter but sweet. He could get past it.

   “It tastes like…like-” “Anti-horniness?” You turn your head a bit to notice a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Very much.” He answers, smacking his teeth. “What purpose was this for by the way?”

   You paused, thinking about it. Truth be told you actually weren’t sure why, but you could list reasons as to why. “Hmm…” You trailed off. “Maybe for uh… people who struggle to keep it in their pants? I don’t know. People who struggle with sex addiction?” Hongjoong nodded slowly, “I guess that could make sense.”

   There was a comfortable silence passing for a few minutes before Hongjoong felt his slacks tightening. Was this supposed to happen? He believed not, the potion is an arousal suppressant. He opted to keep it to himself, figuring it would go away quickly and that this was just a part of the process.

   However, more minutes passed, and Hongjoong’s breath grew heavy as his slacks suddenly felt twice as small. He let go of his novel and looked down at the floor. “...Y/n?”

   “Yeah?” You kept your eyes on your own spell book, skimming through pages without actually reading them. Your back was faced towards him, bent over the counter. His eyes fell on your ass which your long, tight godet skirt shaped perfectly. His breath hitched, his skin growing hot.

   “I… I don’t think this is a suppressant, Y/n.” He states. His cock is visibly hard, fighting against his slacks.

   “What do you mean, Joong? I-” You turn around to see the view. His cheeks flushed red, visibly sweaty under the layers he wore. His hands gripped the counter, and he gulped. “R-Read that spell again.” He stutters.

   You grab the spellbook, turning back to the page where you followed the steps to create the suppressant. Looking at the header you creased your brows. “Joong, it says aféconder, that’s a suppressant.” You say, feeling bubbling in your stomach. Hongjoong felt his stomach tighten himself, he shook his head. “No… it can’t. Let me see the book.”

   He leaned over and grabbed the book, skimming over the page with a deep sigh. “... oh Y/n…” he closes his eyes, placing the book back down. “Y/n, this is féconder. The ‘a’ was a stain.” Hongjoong pinches the bridge of his nose, turning away from you.

   You felt your mind slap you right across the face, and you rested your head in your hands, propped on your elbows. Your hands ran across your face, and through your hair, as you let out a soft but low groan. “Sorry, Joong,” you whisper, and you feel his hand rake up your back. “There has to be a way to reverse it, right?” he mutters, his voice huskier than usual. 

   “There’s no spells in this book that could reverse it, I believe.” You reply, flipping through the spellbook. “But… but we could try something else…?” You suggest, turning your head to look at him.

   “Like…?” He trailed off, brows creased. You turn to fully face him, and hesitantly you reach for his trousers. “We could do this the natural way…” you whisper, not wanting to make it awkward.

   Despite Hongjoong’s obvious distress, he looks at you with an unsure look. “We’re in public, Y/n,” he says, looking around the greenhouse.

   “But no one’s around, right?” You also look around, the rain had gotten heavier, and the doors to the greenhouse were closed. It was just you, Hongjoong, and the plants, along with the dim lights inside.

   Hongjoong gulped, feeling the knot in his stomach twist more before he nearly whined. “Please help me…”

   You didn’t waste time, he looked miserable. Your hands fumbled with the button and zipper of his trousers, then unclipped his suspenders. Your long, black French almond nails raked against his stomach, making him tense up. Hongjoong looked down at you as you cupped his painfully hard bulge, his eyes then fluttering shut as you rubbed him with your palm to at least soothe him.

   He let out a sensitive whimper. His hand then grabbed your jaw, pulling you up as he swooned down for a kiss, encasing your lips in his. At that moment your hand squeezed at the wet bulge in his underwear, feeling the beads of precum against your palm.

   With your finger hooked onto the waistband of his black underwear, and with one swift motion, you tugged it down to his midthighs. Pulling away from the kiss you cupped your hand under his lips, making him spit all his excess drool into it before taking his leaking, wet cock into said hand.

   Hongjoong whimpered again softly. Hair was already sticking to his sweaty forehead due to how strong the aphrodisiac was. He felt like he could cum untouched, but at the same time, it felt as if everything was holding itself in. The tip was drooling and deep red as if irritated, and as you started to pump his cock into your hand you could feel the veins on his shaft pulsating. You looked up at him, his pretty pink spit-covered lips slightly agape. He breathed like he was making noises, but only small broken whines and deep breaths left him. Certain strokes elicited no noises at all, his chest tightening and making him freeze, breath caught in his throat.

   Your eyes visibly dilated at the sight. He’s so pretty it hurts. You’ve taken note of your long-time friend, who was also your assistant’s beauty before, but you opted to keep the relationship platonic. This… is platonic, right? Having his pretty cock in your hand as he silently begs you to take care of the problem you caused him with your stupid mistake. Your honest but dumb mistake. A part of you was lowkey grateful about your unconsciousness though, because then you wouldn’t be here so close to him, seeing the drool dribble down his chin and eyebrows creasing in pain and pleasure. You could feel heat pool at your core, slick dripping onto your panties.

   “You alright, pretty?” You cooed softly, your free hand cupping his shoulder, your thumb rubbing against the fabric of his dress shirt. He let out a subtle nod, whining like a bitch in heat. The noise made your clit throb, your hole clenching around nothing. “You’re so pretty, Joongie..”

   You picked up the pace, running your thumbpad over his slit every time your hand got to his cockhead. You made sure to let your long nails brush against his full, purple-hued balls, and occasionally you would swoop down to massage them for a few seconds before coming back up and pumping his shaft again. Hongjoong sucked in a breath, biting the inside of his cheek. Your hand that was once on his shoulder went to the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

   Hongjoong slid his tongue into your mouth immediately. You could taste the bitterness from the potion when your tongue slid on his, forcing it into his mouth and running over the roof. Both moaned into each other’s mouths, and you grabbed his jaw, pulling back to spit in his mouth. Hongjoong swallowed it without hesitation, his hands trembling as his grip on the counter tightened.

   Your grip on his cock tightened. Your fingers felt every vein pulsate under your touch, and the shaft twitched. Your thighs shut against each other, and the hot slick gushed out your hole onto your panties, making a wet spot. You could feel a weighed pool, the aphrodisiac now in your system since you kissed Hongjoong.

   Eventually, you let off and unbuttoned your black Lolita-styled dress. Crossing your arms your fingers pinched at the shoulders of your sleeves, pulling them down until your breasts were exposed. Leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw you grazed your fangs down his neck, undoing his button-up and taking it off him. Hongjoong’s skin was covered in sweat, red and hot to the touch. His nipples erect under the caress of your hands, the buds feeling hard enough to hurt without any stimulation.

   Lifting your skirt you kneeled before him, making him lean against the counter for a better angle. You pulled off the rest of the top of your dress, bunching it to your waist as you unclipped your bra as well. Hongjoong’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked down at you.

   “W-What are you doing now?” he stuttered, watching you drool onto your tits. You look up at him and his lost expression, shaking your head. “Helping you, Joongie,” you mutter, rubbing your saliva over the valley of your mounds. Your hands running over your nipples make you moan, your cheeks heating to a pink flush. Hongjoong stutters out incoherent babbles, and his words are caught in his throat when your tits encase his cock between them, your mouth sealing around the cockhead. Hongjoong’s lips formed an ‘o’ shape, drool falling and directly hitting your tits. 

   You start to move, tongue swirling and gliding up and down his slit and tip, the salty, pearly beads of precum leaking into your tastebuds. Your hands hold firmly onto the sides of your boobs, guiding them up and down his shaft as your mouth goes to work on the head. Hongjoong’s shaky hands move from the counter, one raking up to move his wet hair and the other firmly seated on your head.

   “Y/n,” He moans out prettily, petting your hair. Your eyes flutter shut, focused on making him feel good while also trying to relieve him of the rather painful aphrodisiac. You moan softly around his cock, the vibrations of your hum making his balls tighten. Hongjoong whines out a pathetic “mm’ sorry-” before grabbing your head with both hands and shoving his cock down your throat. Your tits drop out of your hands and you choke a bit, taking a deep breath through your nose as he thrusts rather soppily, creaking out little ‘sorry’s and ‘please’s back to back. His voice cracked a couple of times, whimpering out your name. You grab onto his thighs, nails digging into the sides of them.

   Your chokes and gags on his cock echo throughout the greenhouse. The rather humid heat inside makes you yourself sweat as your hair sticks to your forehead and cheeks. You swallow around his cock, his head rubbing against the wet, plush oropharynx. 

   “G- I- gonna- gonna cum Y/n. m’ so close m’ gonna c-cum,” he whines, his thighs tensing up. He unintentionally pulls on your hair, making you whine out as tears sting your eyes. Your teeth nearly bite down on his cock, the slight graze making him stutter his hips.

   ‘F-Fuck do it again-” he whimpers. You suck and graze your teeth again over the veins of his cock, and without warning he spills into your mouth. You pull off, choking. His hands move to his cock, jerking desperately as his cum paints your face and hair. You squirm on your heels, your heels digging into your ass. You open your eyes and watch the last of his cum leak out, and you felt your nipples swell at the sight. Like before Hongjoong now grabbed your jaw, spitting whatever aphrodisiac he had left into your mouth. You swallowed, it was fair game.

   Getting up onto your now aching feet you let your dress pool at them, leaving you in your lace white panties. Both of you breathed heavily, your head against his chest as your arms ran down his biceps. His hands cupped your ass, pulling down your panties as he pressed his knee against your cunt.

   You whimpered, his knee rubbed against your clit before he lifted you up, sitting you down on the metal counter. The heat made you wince, sucking your teeth. 

   Hongjoong gave you no time to adjust, he hooked his arms under your knees and dragged you to the edge, opening your legs up for him. “H-have t’ fuck you,” he muttered, his cock still rock hard despite cumming seconds ago. 

   Your eyes met, irises fully taken up with dilated pupils as if you two were cats. You whimpered, and he spit on his hand, gathering your juices as he slid his hand up and down your slit. He entered a ringed finger into you, the cold silver eliciting a hiss from you. Pulling out he entered a second finger, both his ring and middle fingers curling up inside you. His fingers weren’t all that long but it felt so good. He managed to find spots inside your spongey walls that you hadn’t touched without having to go deep inside you, he was skillful in this as much as he was skillful with his large grand piano that he composed his music with.

   Hongjoong’s cock rubbed against the metal counter, the hot metal sending shivers down his spine as he felt his cock swell.

   When you had enough, you pulled off his fingers, grabbing his waist and pulling him to you. Hongjoong got the memo, slapping his wet cock onto your clit a few times before slowly inserting himself into your hole, making both of you let out loud gasps and whines. Hongjoong was average, about five and a half inches, but you could swear that when he went inside you you felt him grow to at least seven, or eight. His newfound girth stretched you out deliciously, and his manicured, painted nails raked against your thighs. Tears pricked at both your and Hongjoong’s eyes. He sniffled, his nose turning a shade of pink.

   “Fuck,” You whispered, laying against the counter. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting a couple of stray tears fall. Your gummy walls fluttered around him a few times before he started to move. His hands went to your swollen tits, fondling and massaging them. His palms were sweaty and covered in cum, fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples turning the hard buds to an irritated shade of red. 

   With every languid thrust, he hit deep inside you, balls touching the rim of your puckered asshole. The squelching noise of him moving inside you along with the soft claps of his balls against your ass made you feel lightheaded. Your assistant sniffled again above you, hand moving down to your waist as he started picking up the pace of his thrusts.

   Your hands moved to your fluid-covered face, covering your teary eyes as his cockhead hit into your cervix snuggly. You sniffled, opening your eyes to look up at the man above you, rutting into your pussy like a pup in heat.

   “You feel so good,” He sniffles, swallowing down whatever pathetic sound he may produce next. His head is thrown back, then falls forward as a babbling whine leaves his lips. “Wan m-make you feel g-good Y/n.”

   He sucks on the two fingers he used inside you before and rubs them on the rim of your ass before gently pushing inside. You gasp, moaning out loudly as he starts to move them rather languidly compared to his thrusts. The feeling of his cock hitting the right spots inside you quickly and his fingers in your ass going slow made you micro-orgasm, clenching around him as the genuine knot started to build in your tummy. “J-Joong-” You whimpered, before fluttering around his cock as you came, legs tensed up and wrapped around his waist. “Fuck it feels so good,” you sniffle again.

   Pulling his cock and fingers out you quickly sat up, shoving Hongjoong to a nearby discarded chair. You stumble off the counter, holding his shoulders as you open his legs, and hike a leg over his lap. Grabbing his face you stamp your lips against his once more, sinking down onto his cock. Despite just being connected the stretch makes both of you moan into each other's mouths, Hongjoong letting out a guttural, broken cry.

   You started to hump your clit against his pelvis, but that soon turned into bouncing heavily on his cock. The sound of wet slapping skin resonated loudly throughout the greenhouse, along with a now sobbing Hongjoong along with you. The rain attempting to drown out your sounds was almost futile, your head spinning and ears ringing. You didn’t want to stop, and neither did he. He pulled away from the kiss and grabbed your hips, guiding you up and down his shaft at his own pace.

   “Joong!” you cry out, holding the top rail with tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. His hands were firm on your hips, fingers tight enough you were sure it would cause bruising tomorrow. Your ass collided with his thighs harshly, causing red marks to appear on your plush and flushed ass cheeks.

   Lifting you and slightly hurling you over his shoulder, Hongjoong held your thighs, keeping your legs apart as he began pistoning up into you. You moaned at the sensation of being filled, physically feeling your womb protrude out from your stomach.

   Sitting you back down on him you started to bounce again, rather sloppily this time. Your lips formed in a pout as you whined, hums being produced every time his cockhead met your cum filled cervix.

   “D-Don’ wan’ stop,” you murmured, lips pressed against Hongjoong’s sweaty forehead in a sloppy forehead kiss. His black dilated eyes were glued onto you, tears also running down his cheeks. 

   You began grinding in circles, smothering his cock inside you. You both moaned out sweetly, fangs digging into your bottom lip drawing blood. Hongjoong reached upward, grasping your bottom lip with his teeth as he suckled on the blood. His tongue ran over your bottom lip before pulling away, looking up into your eyes. You started to bounce again, feeling your second orgasm impending.

   “all over y-your cock, Joongie,” you babble, your swollen lips blabbering nonsense as you clamp down onto him, the heavy bounces building up again.

   “Cum, please cum,” you whine, holding your orgasm back. “W-wan it all inside me.”

   Hongjoong started thrusting up again, syncing up in time with your bounces. It didn’t take much, as he started to spill inside your cunt once more, taking one of your breasts into his mouth. He suckled, and as you let go, milk flowed freely from your erect nipples. Hongjoong moaned at the sweet taste, lapping it all up.

   You shivered at the sensation, and Hongjoong pulled away with a pop as he flipped you over, bending you over the counter. With a smack to your ass, he entered your pussy from behind, grabbing a hold of your hair. “C-can’t stop-” he sobbed, pounding into you with no sign of slowing down any time soon. “Gonna keep cumming inside your fucking pussy.”

   “Please,” you whined, shutting your eyes. Your leaking tits raked against the metal counter, painting it a transparent white with your milk. Hongjoong’s hands sneaked from behind you, reaching around to grab your tits. Squeezing them, he pulled you up against his chest, his pelvis meeting the sore, red skin of your ass. Nonstop was he cumming again and again back to back. Your womb visibly protruded, sticking out like a sore thumb. He wrapped one arm around your tits, the other snaking down and feeling at your tummy, feeling the way his cock slid up and down inside you. 

   You came again for a third time without warning, legs shaking. Your eyes rolled back to the inside of your head, and a fourth came on when he didn’t stop.

   “O-oh- oh fuck!” Hongjoong cried, stilling inside you. You fell forward, grasping the counter. You felt his cock literally knot inside you. It grew in size and locked in you like a key. Cum filled you to the brim, you felt like you could vomit from how full you were. Hongjoong was shaking behind you, and he fell forward as well, arms caging you. 

   He whimpered softly, sniffling. Heavy pants and sniffles were shared between you as the last of his cum was milked from him. He finally started to soften, and slowly pulled out of you as your minds went back to being levelheaded. His cock departed with a soft, wet pop, and loads of cum pumped out of you in what felt like gallons onto the floor below.

   “Gosh…” He breathed out, taking a deep sigh. Your legs trembled, and you, exhausted, kept yourself laying forward on the counter.

   “S-So full,” You murmured, the last of his cum spilling out before your womb felt relieved again. Your skin cooled down, the aphrodisiac starting to wear off on the both of you.

   Hongjoong gently scooped you up and sat you down into his lap, as you both regained clarity. He nuzzled his nose into your hair, closing his eyes.

   “Thank you,” He murmured softly.

   “I'll be careful next time,” you murmur back, taking deep breaths.

   “Yeah, make sure it's afèconder, not fèconder.”

[dannymayevent]

Dannymay 2024

Welcome back to Dannymay! We sincerely apologize for the delay this year, as we're releasing this just a day before the event is due to start. Life's been a bit hectic for all of us, but we're here now and ready to get this event started for you!

If you aren't aware, Dannymay is a yearly event where creators are given a daily prompt and are free to run with it! Any and all art is allowed; fanfiction, fanart, music, poetry, and anything else will be welcomed!

Feel free to complete as many or as few prompts as you'd like, and remember to have fun! When you're done, post your creations to Tumblr with the #Dannymay2024 tag so we can see it!

Like last year, we'll be compiling an ao3 collection under the tag Dannymay 2024, and we'll fire up the Dannymay discord for another year - the link is in our FAQ!

Full text prompt list and AU explanations are below the cut

Insect

2. Wish

3. Invisible

4. Wander

5. Nails

6. Immortal AU: What if Danny/Halfas couldn't die?

7. Mind Control

8. Style Challenge: A unique prompt to kick off the second week! Take the characters and draw them in the style of a different piece of media, or experiment with your own style and see what you can make!

9. Hunger

10. Mausoleum

11. Mutation

12. Time Travel

13. D&D AU: Drop the characters into the world of Dungeons & Dragons, or imagine them playing the game!

14. Light

15. Field Trip

16. Glowing Veins

17. Equilibrium

18. Revenge

19. Iron

20. Pitch AU: What if the show had aired as presented in the Pitch Bible, where Danny is a human with an owl named Spooky, rides a motorcycle, and has a psychic connection with Sam? For more information, the Bible has been uploaded to the Internet Archive

21. Funeral

22. Song Lyric: Just one week left! Take a line from a song you like and use that as inspiration!

23. Reflection

24. Electricity

25. Games

26. Shoes

27. Zombie AU: What if the ghosts were zombies, or what if canon Amity Park were to face a zombie apocalypse?

28. Healing

29. Fireworks

30. Goodbye

31. Free Day: You made it, thanks for participating in the event! For the last day, create anything you'd like!

[thepromptfoundry]

Hope you're ready for some out-of-this-world creativity, because we're having ourselves a Sci-Fi September at the Prompt Foundry!

If you use this list, please tag me here @thepromptfoundry, I’d love to see your writing and art!

Feel free to combine different days' prompts with each other, or combine them with other events! Use your OCs, your favorite characters from media, your own experiences, whatever tickles your fancy.

Respond to as many prompts as you want or as interest you, don’t worry about missing or skipping any. Remember, this is supposed to be fun!

If you have any questions or musings, check our FAQ, and if you don't find your answer, shoot me an ask.

Plain text list below the cut:

1 Five Minutes Into The Future 2 Flying Cars 3 Starships 4 Virtual Worlds 5 Blending Nature And Tech 6 Androids 7 Space Pirates 8 Laser Swords 9 Aliens Among Us 10 Total Automation 11 Ghosts In The Machine 12 Post-Apocalypse 13 Guardian Robots 14 First Contact 15 Government Secrets 16 Time Travel 17 Mutation 18 Universal Translator 19 Cyborgs 20 Raygun Gothic 21 Medical Experimentation 22 Genetic Recombination 23 Precognition 24 Technobabble 25 City In A Dome 26 Robot Rights 27 Transporter Malfunction 28 Clones 29 Suspended Animation 30 Ancient Super Technology

[areyouwell]

Somnophobia

Noun: An extreme fear of sleep. Children or adults with this condition may experience hallucinations, voices and in some cases, death.

Ch.4

Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1 <--

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!F!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, no spoilers ;), mentions of suicide attempt, scarring, nightmarish sequences

Word count: 13.2k

A/N: a reward for all your patience :)

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside

‘Told ya you looked tired. Get some rest, see you at 11 am. L.’

You’d woken up that morning to a note scribbled on a folded piece of paper, propped up against your alarm clock in such a way that you couldn’t actually see the time. And it had been like that every day for almost a month before that month fell into two. You and Logan fell into a comfortable rhythm, teaching classes together every other day, and on the days you weren’t teaching, he was helping you develop your mutation. 

You’d cook together, sometimes for the kids as well, and spend hours talking over dinner before heading into the lounge and cosying up in front of some movie or tv-show. Most of the time Logan noticed just as you were nodding off and would switch off the show before carrying you back up to your room. Sometimes you were still awake, but you didn’t protest. It was all part of the routine. 

However, one thing was bothering you slightly. You’d assumed, with Logan’s more animalistic instincts, he’d waste no time pouncing on you and dragging you into bed, though the moment things would get a little heated between the two of you, he’d pull back, breathless and warm, muttering something like “Not here.” You were fine with it, for now at least, but considering the two of you went from strangers to kissing in the kitchen to Nick Cave, it took you off guard a little. 

Though you’d settled on the explanation that maybe he wanted to take things a little slower, you were frustrated. Pent up. And it was taking all of your concentration not to pounce on him now as he shrugged off his flannel shirt. Neither of you had class today, which meant it was a training day. Not that your training has been useful. You seemed to have regressed, being unable to pull the shadows out with you as you had that first time. It was a completely different kind of frustration, and it was pissing you off. Majorly.

“I’m starting to think Xavier was wrong and that we all collectively imagined what we saw a month ago,” you lamented, hanging up your hoodie on one of the hooks near the door. You’d occupied a regular training room for this session, opting to leave the danger room for another day. Nothing had been accomplished, though it did serve to prove once again just how well you and Logan worked together.

Logan folded his arms across his chest. In truth, he thought this was going to be a lot easier than it was turning out to be. The progress you’d made in that first session set him up with a false sense of confidence, though he had to remain encouraging, despite the growing concern that you may not be able to pull this off. That was why he’d asked Charles to take over from Scott. He’d lost too many people in his life and was unable to do anything about it. If things were going to go anywhere between you, he needed reassurance that you weren’t about to disintegrate in his arms. Because the thought of ever losing you genuinely terrified the shit out of him.  “When was the last time Charles was wrong, hm?” 

You huffed, rolling your shoulders, wincing slightly from the cracking of your joints. “First time for everything…” you grumbled, hooking your elbow around your other to stretch out the muscle. Logan swallowed, his eyes drinking in your appearance. A pair of fitted gym leggings that had him gritting his teeth every time you turned around, paired with a front-zip sports bra that his fingers itched to tug down. He could smell your morning shower, the deodorant you used, whatever body spray you decided fit for today. Never one of those gaudy, overly fragrant perfumes. You preferred a softer scent, something that gave the allure of a misty forest, or a rainy lake. 

Fuck you smelt divine. Logan’s teeth ground together, wondering if what he had planned for today was a good idea. He’d been holding himself back from you. Fear of hurting you or driving you away had him shoving his instincts and desires to one side, burying them deep, deep beneath the surface. He could smell it on you, though. When he barely had enough strength to control himself, with wandering hands and lingering touches. He could smell how turned on you got and it killed him to step away from you every goddamn time. 

It was fucking torture. He was torturing himself. He was torturing you.

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all… but it was a little too late now.

“I don’t wanna focus on your mutation today…” he began, and you whipped around to face him.

“What? Why? Isn’t that kinda the whole point?” You challenged, and Logan sighed. You were irritable today, and rightly so. He recognised how the lack of progress must have been making you feel, and he knew you were scared, and he wished he could tell you he was scared too. How he was terrified of failing you. But he couldn’t, not if he wanted you to have someone to lean on. 

“You rely on it too much.”

“Says the man who tanks bullets because he knows he can heal.” you shot back, folding your arms defensively. Logan took a breath.

“That’s different, sweets. ‘S not circumstantial. You get surrounded in the sunlight with nothin’ around to duck into, and you’re dead.” However, that would never be the case because Logan couldn’t imagine a situation like that where he wouldn’t be by your side. But the hypothetical worked to make his point.

“Okaaaay, what do you suggest then, Professor?” there was nothing malicious in your tone this time, the curve of your smile doing dangerous things to his head. He pushed it down again, cursing his body’s truly terrible timing, before gesturing to his chest.

“Hit me.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You heard. Hit me.”

“No!” 

“Yes.”

You took a step back. “I’m not gonna fight you, Lo’.”

“Why?” he took a step forward, smirking wildly. “Afraid you’ll lose?”

“Yes! Extremely!” Logan barked a laugh at your honesty, earning himself a smile of your own. “Look at you! How is this a fair fight?” you grinned broadly at the ridiculous idea of sparring with him. “I pick my battles, Howlett, and I’m not about to pick one where I get my ass handed to me!” you exclaimed through bubbles of laughter. Logan listened to the constant urge to be closer to you, stepping forward to wrap you in his arms, your chin against his chest as you craned your neck to look up at him.

“I’ll go easy on ya, how ‘bout that?” He was provoking you. The sly bastard knew you couldn’t deny a challenge like that, and the way your eyes narrowed told him he’d hit the jackpot.

“You’re incredibly grating, you know that?” you hissed, wriggling to free yourself from his arms, only for him to respond by holding you tighter.

“Yeah? You gonna do anythin’ about it?” he smirked again, and you had an extremely strong urge to wipe it from his stupidly handsome face through any means possible.

“Let me go and find out.”

“Get free.”

You huffed. “Logan I’m serious.”

He raised a brow. “Yeah? So am I. Get free. And don’t use your mutation.” If you weren’t so pissed off, you would have fainted at the way he fucking growled. But instead, you took a calming breath. Annoyingly, he was right. You did rely on your mutation a lot when in combat. You’d been lucky enough on missions so far not to get caught without any shadows around, but from what you could tell from the very few meetings you were permitted to attend, was that the fight was evolving. Technology was evolving, and if an all out war was to break out, the odds between humans and mutants would be falling into humanity’s favour. 

And sometimes, a good ol’ fashioned punch to the face was worth more than dragging people into shadow. 

Tensing and flexing, you attempted to contort from his arms, resulting in nothing but an infuriating chuckle from your captor. “Strugglin’?” he asked, condescension dripping from his tone, and you spared him a fleeting glance only to see a mocking pout on his face. 

“Fucking asshole.” you snarled, managing to free your arms enough to push back against his chest. But Logan was strong. Insanely fucking strong, and you were held fast.

“Now what?” he poked, deriving a sick amount of sadistic joy from watching your growing fury. He wasn’t worried. You were already harbouring a lot of frustration, and this was the best way he knew to help you let it out. Since the other option was off the table for now.

You’d been formulating a plan for the last few minutes, your last few wriggles had been purely for show. Lulling him into a false sense of cocky security. Your hands slipped beneath his arms, grabbing a secure hold on his forearms. Sending him a knife-like smile, you went to push against his arms.

Logan sensed what you were about to do, feeling slight pressure against his elbow, he moved his arms lower, assuming you were about to attempt slipping out underneath. 

Bingo.

You barked a triumphant laugh, changing your grip in an instant. Your hands slipped up between his arms and your waist and gripping his shoulders. Logan didn’t have time to do so much as blink before your foot pushed against his hip and you flipped backwards and out of his embrace, landing a sharp blow beneath his jaw with your knee before you rolled back to a steadying stance a few paces away.

He blinked, hand subconsciously braced against his chin. It was a savage blow, but the throbbing faded almost instantly. He stretched his jaw, pride blossoming in his chest. “Good job, honestly didn’t think–” he was cut off instantly as you ran towards him, glaring venom. Something in you had shifted, and he’d be lying to himself if it didn’t make him think twice about pissing you off so much. 

He dodged back as you swung a punch, your left hook flying dangerously close to his nose. You moved with a speed he hadn’t seen from you yet, and with precision he’d only expect from highly trained veterans. You swung again from the right, and he dodged left, only to be met with a sharp blow from your leg. How had you shifted your weight so damn quickly? He didn’t have time to contemplate before your foot slammed into the centre of his chest and he stumbled backwards.

Catching his footing, Logan looked back at you, eyes wide in complete surprise. You stood dangerously still, your dark gaze watching him like a hawk. He was right in his observation. Something in you had shifted. Like a switch being flipped, you’d gone from treating this as a simple training exercise to actually engaging in a fight. He held his hands up in an attempt to placate you. “Alright, let’s take a breath, yeah?”

You silently bared your teeth before launching yourself at him again. Your leg sweeping towards his face in a roundhouse kick. He flinched back, pushing your foot to continue its trajectory past him, only to barely escape another attempt to decapitate him from your other leg. He caught it in his palm, his hand gripping your ankle tightly as he called your name. But you didn’t respond, using his grip on your foot to pull yourself closer. 

You hooked your leg around his neck, the way you pulled yourself upright was a testament to your sheer core strength as you shifted your weight back, and attempted to bring both of you to the floor. But Logan was a lot sturdier than you’d anticipated, loosening his hold and quickstepping forward, letting you fall to the floor. You were only down for a second before you flipped upright again. 

Logan watched as you extended your arm into the shadow behind you, cast by the metal balance bar running along all four walls of the room. Whoever this was, whoever he was fighting, you weren’t there anymore. Was this what happened the night Jade died? He couldn’t contemplate that right now, not as the thin shadow along the floor started to morph and shift, running like water from your fingertips to your elbow. He watched in horrified awe as the darkness solidified into a blade around your forearm, your hand having disappeared completely into a sharp point. 

“Holy shit…” he breathed along with a terrifying realisation. 

You were trying to kill him. 

He called your name again as you lowered into a crouch, waiting for a beat before once again sprinting toward him, leaping with inhumane strength. There was a sharp clang as obsidian met metal, Logan’s claws unsheathing from his knuckles to meet your overhead blow. You wrenched your blade from between his crossed claws, launching into a flurry of swipes, slashes and kicks. With every strike, the shadows shifted to each limb with clinical precision, your movements timed to perfection. 

Logan was meeting you blow for blow, though never striking back. He was purely on the defensive, simply trying to stop you from taking off his head or hands. He didn’t know how to get through to you, calling your name having absolutely no effect, and he was getting desperate. “You gotta st–” he flinched backwards to avoid yet another savage swipe. “Stop!” he shouted desperately, ducking below your slash and snatching your other wrist. He managed to make you pause long enough to look into your eyes.

Or, what used to be your eyes? Those captivating irises he’d come to know so well had been replaced by wells of nothingness, and if he hadn’t known any better, he’d say they were just a result of using your mutation to this extent. But he’d seen your eyes that first time you’d dragged shadows with you, they hadn’t been like this. This was something else altogether. You were completely absent. Hollow. 

What the fuck?

Logan barked a cry as searing pain shot through his hand, that black blade piercing through his palm and through the back. He yanked back, flexing his fingers as he started to heal immediately, though blood still left his hand slick. 

“Logan? What’s–” he whipped around to see Jean in the doorway, her eyes now fixed on you, mouth agape in horror. “Shit! Logan, step back!” she instructed, and he did so immediately. Looking back at you, he saw you didn’t move, though your muscles shook with the effort to do so. Jean was holding you fast, he could see sweat beading on her brow with the strain. “The Professor’s on his way now. Damn, she’s strong. You alright?” she asked, not taking her eyes from your immobilised form, your lips pulled up in a permanent snarl, your empty eyes darting between Logan and Jean.

Logan nodded a little hesitantly. “Yeah, ‘m fine…” whilst it wasn’t exactly a lie, it wasn’t the whole truth either. Physically he’d always be fine, his healing factor always saw to that. But it wasn’t your deadly strikes that alarmed him. Nor the sniper precision of your blows. He would be fine with both of these things if it wasn’t for the unmistakable stench of fear. 

Logan knew better than anyone, the more cornered the animal, the louder the snarl, the more viscous the bite. You weren’t acting on logic, you were acting out of fear. You were scared. He could smell the desperation to survive, the necessity to fight your way out. Your strikes had been cold and calculated, but every landed blow had a feeling of panic behind them. 

But you’d told him your past. Where the hell could this have come from? Was it simply an inherent part of your mutation?

Answers could wait as he took a cautious step towards you, his hands held out before him. “It’s okay, you’re okay…” he soothed, glancing back to see the strain on Jean lessen slightly. He looked back at you. “It’s okay, we’re not gonna hurt ya, you’re safe,” he continued, ignoring Jean’s call of protest. “It’s me, yeah? It’s Logan. ‘M not gonna hurt ya, firefly. Never gonna hurt ya…” he reached out slowly, his heart breaking as your breathing quickened, wide eyes flickering between his hand and his face. If Jean hadn’t been holding you, he had an awful feeling you would have flinched away. Although, if Jean hadn’t been holding you, he had no doubts he’d be on the ground slowly healing from whatever you’d have done. 

His palm gently cupped the side of your face and your breathing stopped altogether, void-like eyes staring endlessly into his, your brow creasing as if you were searching for something. He watched as you stopped struggling against Jean’s hold. “You’re alright, it’s just me. It’s just Logan…” You exhaled a breath, your eyes closing, visibly relaxing into his touch. 

“What the fuck happened?!” your eyes flew open again, your head snapping to the doorway where Scott, Xavier and Ororo had just appeared, Scott’s fingers braced against his glasses. You only managed to swing your arm a few inches, Jean catching you before your blade pierced Logan’s gut. He jumped back, though instinctively positioned himself between Scott’s line of sight and your frozen form.

“Damnit Scott, we had her!” he seethed, wanting nothing more than to knock him to the ground. If he wasn’t so trigger-happy with his eyes, Logan would have done. But the hand on his sunglasses had him staying put. 

“Charles I can’t hold her for much longer…” Jean strained, her hand shaking ever so slightly. Xavier placed two fingers against his temple, closing his eyes slowly. 

“Let her go, Jean…” he instructed, and the woman instantly fell to her knees, Scott crouching by her side, his arm around her shoulders, though his eyes never left you. Logan turned back to where you’d been released, your chest heaving, head twitching slightly as Xavier invaded your thoughts. Your eyes screwed shut, your hands flew to your head, Logan only just managing to catch your bladed wrist before you sliced your ear off. He grit his teeth against the pain of the edge carving through his palm, but he didn’t let go. He’d endure it. He’d endure fucking anything if it meant you’d be safe.

You whimpered as your legs gave out, crumpling into his hold as he gently lowered you to the floor. It was a terrifying display, your body contorting and writhing, your back arching as if you were possessed whilst Charles worked to set you free or bring you back or whatever the fuck he was doing.

“C’mon sweetheart, it’s okay, it’s okay. I promise you’re safe. ‘M gonna look after you, yeah? You’re gonna be okay. You’re safe…” he kept whispering over and over in the hopes that wherever you were, you could hear him. You could follow his voice. Holding you against his chest, he grazed his lips against your hair as you started to slow, hearing your heartbeat begin to settle. You still twitched slightly here and there, but you’d stopped writhing.

When you fell still completely, Logan had to shakily check your pulse just to make sure you were still alive. Finding the slight but steady beating beneath his fingertips, he raised his eyes to the rest of the team, irises glittering with murderous intent. “What the fuck was that?” he snarled, looking at each mutant individually. 

Ororo seemed the only one brave enough to step forward, Charles still occupied with your mind. “It… we saw this happen once before, around three years ago now. It was the night–”

“Jade died…” Logan finished, his features instantly softening as he looked back down at you, palm smoothing your hair from your face. “Why? Why does this happen?”

Charles removed his fingers from his temple, opening his eyes now you’d been placated. 

“We don’t know…” Jean exchanged a glance with the Professor as Storm continued. She crossed the room to kneel by your side, now knowing you were unconscious and no longer dangerous. “We think anger might be a trigger.”

“She wasn’t angry,” Logan countered, his eyes not leaving your face. “She was scared. I could smell it. She was fucking terrified like we were…” he trailed off, not wanting to voice what he was thinking. It was like you thought he was trying to hurt you. You fought back out of self-preservation. “I don’t understand… she’s told me about her upbringing. Her childhood, I didn’t-” he cut himself off as he took your hand, eyes widening as he noticed something he hadn’t before. How the fuck had he not noticed this before?

A thin, heavy scar ran down the length of your wrist, a centimetre wide and a few inches long. His breath caught in his throat as he rushed to check your other hand, finding a mirrored mark. Running his thumb down the scar, his eyes flickered to Ororo’s, who looked away.

“Guess she hadn’t got round to telling you that yet…” she said by way of explanation. His heart shattered. It had been a long time since Logan had cried, but he felt hot tears line his eyes. The thought of you being low enough to attempt to take your own life, the possibility of you succeeding and he never got to meet you. To know you. To love you.

He gathered you back into his arms and held you close, tucking your head beneath his chin. He wanted to apologise. To apologise for not being there for you. For not even knowing you. It was illogical and pointless, but he wanted to make up for not always being there for you. For only coming into your life now. 

“We should get her to the med bay,” Jean broke the silence, standing from where she was recovering on the floor, Scott’s arm still wrapped around her shoulder, steadying her. 

“I can’t be the only one thinking what we should actually do, and what we should have done years ago. She’s unstable, there’s kids here for fuck’s sake!” Cyclops exclaimed, gesturing to the floors above.

Logan felt his anger bubble to the surface. He didn’t need to be telepathic to know what Scott was talking about, and there was no way in hell he was about to stand by and let this motherfucker neutralise you. “Why don’tcha say it out loud, Scott,” he snarled, baring his teeth. “Let everyone know what ya thinkin’.”

“Logan take a breath, nothing’s going to happen to her,” Ororo placed a calming hand on his shoulder, though he was too riled up to care. “Right Scott?” she prompted, and Scott scoffed loudly.

“Yeah, right. Though, not that it shouldn’t.”

Logan snapped. Passing your body to Ororo, he leapt from the ground, claws bursting through his knuckles as he thundered towards Scott, who was taking his arm from around Jean to grip his sunglasses in retaliation.

“That’s enough!” Xavier’s voice cut through both the air and Logan’s mind, and taking a glance to the group, everyone else had heard it in their heads as well. He ground to a halt, eyes glaring bloody murder at Cyclops. “Now is not the time to fight amongst ourselves. Storm, take her to the med bay. Jean, I need you in my office please. And you two,” he looked pointedly between Logan and Scott. “Find somewhere far away from each other.”

“Fine by me.”

“Not a problem,” they spoke in unison before Logan turned back to where Ororo was holding you in her lap. “I got her, just lead the way,” he spoke curtly, stooping to effortlessly pick you up, holding you tight in his arms. Storm nodded as she stood, dusting her knees off before heading for the door. Logan took a minute to look down at you, drinking in your unconscious appearance. He felt a pang of fear for you echoing throughout his chest, brows pinching as his eyes frantically flickered across your face. 

“She’ll be okay Logan, just give her time,” Charles said gently, knowing to choose his words carefully. 

“We don’t got time.” Was all he said in return, before following Storm out the door and to the med bay.

Time was simply a concept. Nothing mattered. You’d found yourself sinking into your mind, taking a backseat in your own body. Floating in water but breathing wasn’t impossible. It was peaceful, tranquil, the same kind of feeling when you were nestled against Logan’s chest in an evening, or standing by his side and instructing him how to perfect a sear on a steak. 

Logan. Your chest surged as you thought of him, colours around you shifting and swirling from obsidian to the dark greens and browns you associated with his scent. Being around him. Content wore a new face, joy had a new feeling. Swirling colours became scenery as your bare feet touched grass. Wind kissed your cheeks as you looked around at the rolling hills surrounding, nothing but blue skies above you. Though you were confused, nothing could dampen your sense of ease. Pinewood and smoke wafted through the breeze and you turned but saw nothing. 

“Come back.”

You turned again, laughing as if he’d told a joke. It was his voice, unmistakably. You guessed he was just in a playful mood. Your toes dug into the ground as you spun around, laughter bubbling from your chest. 

“Where are you?” you called out, only your echoing voice answering from the hillside. The wind died down, birdsong quieting to nothing as you waited for his voice again. 

“Come back to me.”

You whirled again, your smile slowly fading as you once again were met with nothing. “Logan? C’mon, this isn’t funny anymore!” you called out, hoping he would finally stop the games and come out. You could feel panic start to rise as you heard nothing in response. You spun and twisted, only to be met with silence and emptiness, the ease of the countryside now morphing into anxious loneliness. “Logan…?” you called out again weakly, your hand crossing your front to hold your arm in an attempt to bring some kind of comfort. 

The next time you turned, your heart stopped and you stepped back. Seven humanoid shadows stood before you, their forms shifting like smoke. In unison, their heads cocked to the side. Like the shifting of emotions, the blue sky faded to grey, then to black. Angry, broiling storm clouds swirled overhead, and once again in unison, the shadows sank into the ground.

Fear gripped your heart as you tried to do the same, but found yourself unable to. You tried again, only to force yourself to your knees, the ground refusing to let you pass despite the darkness overhead. With a frustrated cry, you punched the earth with your fist, as if you were able to beat it into submission.

“Come back.” 

This time his voice provided no comfort as you hung your head, tears stinging your eyes and falling into the grass, blades shifting slightly. “I want to…” you responded shakily, despair clawing at your mind, having no idea how. But you had to. It didn’t matter how. You just had to.

Standing back to your feet, you took a deep breath. You could do this. You could find your way back. With newfound determination, you took a step forward.

Only to find, the moment your foot touched the ground, a hand crawled from the shadow, wrapping around your ankle. Once again panic clawed at your chest as you tried to yank yourself free, watching in horror as one of those seven shadows rose from the ground, its humanoid body contorted and backwards, head twitching from side to side. 

You tried to pull away. Tried to take a step back, only to find another holding your other foot, rising only far enough for its head and shoulders to reform from the ground. Another hand grabbed at your thigh, then another around your waist. You fought to free yourself, kicking and flailing as you felt the ground beneath you give way and you started to sink. A hand clawed down your back, another wrapped around your neck, silencing your desperate scream as your hand outstretched towards the dark sky above.

Your eyes went dark as those shadows gripped your face, obscuring your vision before all you could feel was nothing. You were nothing. And you were sinking. 

Down. Down down you were dragged, those inky black hands weighing you down like a ball and chain through water, only this time you couldn’t breathe. You tried to scream again only to find yourself voiceless, bubbles of emptiness rising from your mouth. 

You didn’t know how long you’d been drowning before light burst from above you and you inhaled a guttural breath, closing your eyes against the blinding white. When you managed to adjust to the light, you cracked open your lids, panic still flooding your veins. An operating theatre? No, it was too light. But judging from the instruments to your left, that’s exactly where you were. You tried to lift your head only to find coarse leather strapping you down. Trying to move your arms and legs resulted in the same conclusion. 

A whimper escaped from the other side of the room, and you turned your head, eyes widening as you saw your brother, clad in some kind of hospital gown, tears streaming down his face. “Rowan…?” you croaked, your throat raw from what, you didn’t know. 

“I’m sorry…” he whispered shakily, before agony flared through your body and you released a blood-curdling scream, fire reining free throughout your nerves, your limbs straining against the bonds holding you down.

‘We remember.’

Your eyes flew open as you sat bolt upright on the table, panic surging adrenaline through your system as you took in your surroundings. You were still there, in that room, just a different version of it. But you weren’t tied down, not this time. No, this time, you followed the wires hooking your body up to a monitor, the dips and valleys in the lines meaning nothing to you, only serving to fuel your fear.

You ripped the stickers from your body, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Whatever, or whoever was holding you clearly didn’t have the sense to leave you unattended. You might still be learning how to control your mutation, but that didn’t mean you weren’t dangerous.

Crossing to the drawers opposite, you tugged the top one open, rifling through the contents in the hopes of finding some kind of weapon. A scalpel, a knife, hell you’d take a staple gun at this moment. Anything that would help you escape this nightmare. You had to find Rowan. Why the fuck was he here? What the hell was going on? You brushed the questions to the side for now.

None of that mattered at the moment. Your sole goal was to find him and get the two of you out of here. 

A slight sing sliced through your fingertip as you rifled through the second drawer, pulling out a small scalpel. It wasn’t ideal, but you figured it was better than nothing. Clutching it tightly in your hands, you cursed medical rooms for their bright white lighting, only finding singular shadows beneath the bed and around the desks. Nothing connected, so you couldn’t travel far. 

You whirled at the slight whoosh of the doors behind you opening, holding the scalpel in front of you threateningly, attempting to still your trembling hand. Though it took your eyes a moment to register who you were looking at, you knew that voice and the way he softly called your name like the back of your hand.

Logan had only stepped out for a few moments, spending the last three days by your side, vigilant, unmoving. But upon the insistence of Jean, he’d taken seconds for himself to smoke a cigar and calm down. Every twitch of your body, every micromovement he noticed, every small cry of his name set him on edge, fighting the urge to pull the medical tags from your body and keep you safe up in his room, build a home for you there. He’d resisted purely because both Jean and Charles had said it was safer to monitor your brain and heart.

But now here you were, eyes wide, pointing a scalpel at him. He held his hands up, trying to show you he didn’t mean any harm. “It’s me…” he soothed as you looked around wildly as if trying to recognise your surroundings.

How was he here? Why was he here? Had they got him too? But he looked fine, dressed in his usual white singlet, worn jeans and brown flannel. “Logan?”

He breathed a sigh of relief, taking a slow step towards you. “Yeah,” he confirmed, noticing how you were still caught up in confusion and fear.

“Wh– where am I? Where are we?” you asked frantically, still keeping the small blade pointed towards him as he inched closer around the bed.

“We’re in the med bay, underneath the school. ‘S’okay, you’re safe here.” he explained slowly, gingerly reaching for the knife in your hand, his fingers wrapping around the warm metal as he gently took it from your grasp and set it down. 

You let him take it from you, your heart settling in your chest as he encircled your wrist. “The school?” you asked, uncertainty lacing your tone. Logan nodded in confirmation, and you let loose a steadying breath. “What happened?” your voice was barely audible, shaking slightly as he guided you into his arms and enveloped you in a sense of security.

“You’re okay…” he breathed, not only to reassure you but to also reassure himself. For three days he’d sat by your bedside, listening to people tell him you were gonna be okay, but it was so fucking hard to believe them when you were lying unconscious on a medical bed, the only sound being the steady beep of the heart monitor you were hooked up to. 

Seeing you here, on your feet, awake, set that fear to rest. He set his chin atop your head, closing his eyes as he breathed you in, your scent wrapping around his heart in a comforting embrace. You were safe. You were okay.

You allowed yourself to simply feel him, basking in his presence and the peace he brought you. Your arms slowly wrapped around his body beneath his shirt, clasping tightly at the back of his singlet. “I don’t understand…”

“I know. Neither do we, not fully. But we will, ‘kay? Promise,” he hoped it was enough to reassure you, but it was barely enough to reassure himself. “What d’you remember?” he asked pulling back slightly to cup a hand against your jaw, angling your face to look up at him. 

You swallowed, brow furrowing as you tried to think back to the last thing you remember. “Training. We were training. You said we weren’t gonna focus on my mutation, and you challenged me to get out of your grip… that’s it,” you explained quietly, your eyes flickering between his own in search of some kind of answer. “That’s what happened with Jade, isn’t it? It was the same thing…” Logan nodded again, though almost imperceptibly as if he was afraid to confirm your own fears. “What happened?” you asked again, though this time a little firmer.

Logan took a breath, bracing himself for your reaction before he’d even spoken. “You tried to kill me…”

You instantly stepped out of his arms, and as much as he didn’t want to, he let you. Horror flickered across your face as you looked down at your hands as if you could see the blood staining them. You couldn’t do this again. You couldn’t kill someone else you loved because you couldn’t control yourself. “It wasn’t your fault, I pushed you too hard. I didn’t know this w–”

“Don’t.” you stopped him quietly, eyes staring, unblinking, at the white tiles beneath your bare feet. “Please don’t…” you inhaled shakily, balling your hands into fists by your side. “Scott was right.”

Logan froze, knowing exactly what you were referring to. He guessed what he suggested three days ago wasn’t the first time he’d said it. “The fuck he was. You lost control, that doesn’t make you a monster. Y’think half the kids here were monsters before they learnt how to control their mutations?”

“Half the kids here don’t try to kill the people they fucking care about!” you cried, feeling like he just wasn’t listening to you. 

“No, they just do it by accident. Remind you of anyone?” He didn’t know how else to get you to see. You were no different from those who just hadn’t learnt to control it yet. “Why is it always so different when it comes to you, hm?” he took your hands in his own, begging you to understand. 

“I don’t wanna kill you, Logan. I don’t know what I'd do if I did…” you looked up, tears silently sliding from your eyes. But Logan simply smiled.

“Then ain’t it peachy I can’t die. Hundred ‘n’ thirty still going strong,” he thumbed away the tears from your cheeks as you blinked in realisation. “Forgot that, didn’t ya?” 

“Yeah… guess I did.” you tried to smile, but Logan could tell you were still burdened by guilt and grief. Planting a kiss on your forehead, he guided you back to the centre of his chest, wrapping you up again. 

“We’ll figure it out, yeah? Whatever this thing is, we’ll figure it out. Charles can help you,” he promised, his hand stroking through the back of your hair. “And fuck Scott, he doesn’t know what he’s fucking talking about.” That earned him a teary chuckle against the crook of his neck.

“Fuck Scott,” You repeated, nestling closer into his embrace. “Thank you, Lo’.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he responded, pressing his nose against the top of your head, breathing in your distinct scent. “The good news is, you harnessed your mutation flawlessly.” 

You looked up at him with slight awe, your mouth parted slightly. “Seriously?”

Logan nodded. “I almost brought ya back as well, so I’m thinkin’ we should–”

“Don’t even say it,” you interrupted, your chin resting against his chest. “Not a good idea.”

“Might be the only way,” he shrugged, delicately moving a strand of your hair from your face. “Think it over.” He prompted softly, his hand travelling from your jaw to your cheek, eyes lingering on your lips for a beat before he dipped down, capturing you in a soft kiss. Your lids fluttered closed, arms sliding from his back up to his neck, your fingers finding a home in his soft hair. 

You groaned softly as his hands left your face to occupy your waist, lingering long enough to squeeze you gently before descending lower to your thighs and hoisting you against him. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, ankles crossed against the dip of his back. 

Logan swallowed your gasp as his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, and he couldn’t tame his low growl of approval when you opened your mouth for him, your nails scratching lightly through his hair and tugging against the soft strands in a way that had his closed eyes rolling skyward. Carrying you back to the steel table, he set you down, his lips never detaching from yours even as your back touched the steel. Your ankles stayed crossed at his tailbone, and the way you arched your hips into his growing arousal had him groaning your name against your lips.

The sweet scent of your slick drove him fucking wild, and he knew he had to stop himself before he fucked you here and now on this godforsaken table. He drew back from you, jaw falling open as you dug your nails into his shoulders. Fuck you looked so good, a passionate flush dusted your cheeks, your lips slightly reddened from his mouth. He panted against you, attempting to catch his breath. “We can’t, n–”

“Not here, right?” you finished, frustrated irritation lacing your tone. “Then where, Lo’? Because so far, it hasn’t been anywhere.” You finished, sitting up as he pulled away from your legs. “What’re you so afraid of?” It was your turn to gently pry, hoping to gain insight as to why he always stopped just when things were getting good. 

He looked away from you, tensing his jaw against your question. “‘M not afraid…” 

“That’s a lie.”

His eyes shot back to look at you, recalling the last time he called you out. He’d used that same phrase, that same no-bullshit tone. Logan debated shooting back at you the same way you did back then, but at the same time, he wasn’t that petty. He could be petty, sure, but not that petty.

He ran a hand down the side of his face, taking a deep breath. He heard you shift on the table, your hand gently pulling his palm down. “I’m not made of glass, I won’t shatter.”

But that’s exactly what he was afraid of. “I– I’m good at controlling my instincts most of the time… but when I feel you like that… when I can smell how you react to me, it gets so much more difficult. I’m so afraid of hurting you,” he confessed, and you silently pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, Logan. Was your plan to just, not have sex this whole relationship?” you asked softly, watching as he processed the wording of your question. 

“Well, no but, is that what this is…?” he asked slowly, and you raised a brow.

“I wouldn’t exactly call us friends, Lo’, but I guessed we never really discussed it…” you mused, not a single worry on your mind. You were what you were, labels didn’t really matter to you, and you had a feeling they didn’t matter to him either. 

“Hate the title of boyfriend,” He wrinkled his nose and you snorted a laugh. “Makes me sound like some inexperienced kid.”

“How would I know how experienced you are, you refuse to have sex with me. Maybe it’s appropriate.” You teased, and Logan shot you a dark look full of even darker promises. “I’m not too bothered either way, to be honest. We don’t have to put a label on things. We’re just…”

“Together.” He finished, his dark glare softening at the words he uttered and how right they felt. 

“Exactly. And you’re not the only one who can heal, remember?” You flashed him a grin now it was his turn to blink. “Now look who’s forgetting things.” He returned your smile before pulling you in for another lingering kiss, both his hands braced against the soft skin of your waist. He hadn’t forgotten about the scars on your wrists, nor the way you’d cried for him in your unconscious state, but he’d save those questions for later, for when you weren’t in the med bay still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing three days ago.

Not that he minded. You smelt irresistible. 

Footsteps echoed in his ears from behind the door, and he separated from you. He glanced to the door in response to your look of confusion just as the two halves separated and Jean strode through, stopping immediately upon seeing you.

“You’re awake! How’re you feeling?” she asked, setting down her mug of coffee on the desk before crossing to the flatlined heart monitor and switching it off, the screen going dark.

“Physically or mentally?” you asked, a little sarcastically, and Logan had to pretend he was extremely interested in the screens around Jean’s desk, covering his mouth with his palm to hide his smile.

“You were out for three days, it’s only natural for me to ask.” She responded flatly, shooting Logan a pointed look which he chose to ignore.

“I’m fine. Weirded out and I wanna know why this keeps happening, but I’m fine.” You shrugged, wanting nothing more than to head up to your room, shower until you burn off all of your skin, and fall into bed. Preferably with Logan by your side, but you’d take what you could get with that whole situation. 

Jean shifted on her feet, busying herself with the monitor, and Logan picked up the distinct scent of discomfort. “The Professor’s working on it, for now, he wants you to rest, maybe take a break from training and teaching, too.”

You scoffed, standing up from the table. “He gonna send me away for another two years, yeah? Keep the big bad wolf away from the children? Just in case I go ape-shit again and commit mass murder. Seems like a sound plan, worked last time, didn’t it? Oh, except it didn’t, because I’ve only been back two months and the same fucking thing happened. Only this time we got lucky because Claws over here can’t fucking die” You spat, annunciating every fucking syllable. 

Logan shifted his gaze to you, giving you a look as if to ask why he was being dragged into this. You responded with something he could only interpret as apologetic. Good enough.

“It wasn’t like that–”

“It was and you know it, don’t you?” Logan chimed in, suddenly feeling the need to rush to your defence. You’d already been through enough today, you didn’t need to be gaslit to be added to the pile. “Just like you know more about what’s going on here, right?” He raised a brow, coming to stand by your side, an arm braced against your shoulder. 

Whatever Logan had noticed, you trusted his instincts, staying silent as Jean straightened, her gaze steely. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, Logan,” she responded plainly, before turning to you. “And since you seem well enough to wander around and rifle through my equipment, I’d say you’re well enough to head out.” It was as rude as Jean was ever going to get without being unprofessional and telling you to get the fuck out. 

You raised your head, narrowing your eyes in challenge, before deciding that maybe scrapping so soon after you woke up was a bad idea. So instead you turned on your heel, striding out the door with your dignity and without leaking blood. 

Logan fell into step beside you, his palm resting at the small of your back. “Ya know, she could barely contain you when you went all… freaky. You’re strong as shit.” He smirked down at you, and your eyes widened along with your smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You both entered the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor. “Fuckin’ A.” You grinned, and if he was being honest with himself, Logan didn’t think he’d ever been more proud of you.

“I’ll be below so if you need anythin’, just shout, I’ll hear ya,” Logan instructed so sincerely your heart skipped a beat. After insisting he made you a rudimentary evening snack of grilled cheese, he’d escorted you up the stairs and into your room and was now looking into your eyes with such seriousness it made you laugh a little.

“Logan, I’m taking a shower, not heading into the Colosseum. Though, you’d know all about that, right? What were the Romans like?” you asked, feigning innocence when he rolled his eyes. “What? I’m curious.”

“Glad ya feelin’ better, freak.” He flicked your forehead and you chuckled, not bothering to swipe his hand away. “If you need anything–”

“Howl at the moon three times and spin in a circle yeah Logan I get it. Now clear off so I can shower, I smell like a dead horse.” You shooed him away, but he caught both your hands in one of his own, his bare arms flexing as he pulled you closer so he could lean into your ear.

“You smell fucking delicious,” he growled and your knees almost buckled. Fuck, how could he do that with one small phrase? “But I’ll let ya go, see you later.” He pecked a kiss to your lips, brows raising in surprise when you leaned into him in a much more passionate display before you pulled away far too quickly for his liking.

“See you in a bit!” you beamed, before heading into your ensuite and shutting the door, leaving him standing breathless in the middle of your room. 

You were gonna be the fucking death of him. If he could die, that is.

To say your shower was refreshing was an understatement. Scalding water seared your skin slightly, leaving behind delicious tingles of cleanliness as you scrubbed the last three days of unconsciousness from your skin, using the wild bluebell shower gel Ororo had gifted you for Christmas last year. It was definitely one of your favourite scents –other than pinewood, smoke and whiskey, obviously– but it was the gel you used the least out of fear of running out of it. You lathered your skin, shivering slightly as you remembered the way Logan was holding you earlier. The way his fingers dug into your thighs, the way he squeezed your waist. 

You had to shake yourself back to reality before you used all the water in the goddamn mansion. Quickly rinsing yourself, you switched off the shower and snatched the towel hanging from the hook on the back of the door and opened the window to let out some of the steam. Drying yourself off, you vaguely hoped your plants would forgive you for neglecting them for three days, though a delusional part of you said they’d understand.

Maybe you were losing your mind. 

You finished up moisturising your face, rubbing in the last bits of cream and securing your towel around your chest before opening the door to your room, steam rolling from the bathroom and onto your sad-looking tropical plants, who you swore instantly perked up. 

“Yeah yeah, no need to be so dramatic Herbert, I’m sure you can survive three days without me.” You said to your Herringbone Plant. You found that naming them and giving them all personalities helped with the development and growth… or so you told yourself. 

You crossed to your built-in wardrobe, pausing as you saw an incredibly familiar flannel on your window seat. You had a vague recollection of Logan setting it down when he took a seat there, the two of you talking for a minute of thirty before you finally remembered you needed a shower. 

Considering how little he seemed to talk to the rest of the teachers here, it served to make you feel pretty damn special the way he would talk for hours with you. You smiled thinking about it, picking up the shirt and feeling the material beneath your fingers. It still smelt like him, and your smile widened further.

There was a quick knock at your door, and you barely had time to welcome whoever it was before it opened. “Sorry, forgot my– fuck.”

Logan stood in your doorway, his eyes shamelessly looking you up and down, from your heat-flushed collar to the tops of your thighs where your towel cut off, down to your feet before trailing back up. “Fuck…” he repeated, and your breath quickened just like that.

Maybe he could die. Because there was no possible way he’d just survived looking at you this way. You looked edible, for fuck’s sake, and he wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into the side of your neck and listen to you whimper beneath him. He closed his eyes against the images plaguing his mind, hoping to hell neither Charles nor Jean were prowling around the mansion’s minds.

“Looking for this?” you asked, your tone laced with faux innocence as you held up his shirt. “Shame, I was just about to see how good it looked on me.” You pouted, and Logan closed the door with the back of his foot in response.

“Don’t let me stop you.” His eyes were dark, pupils blown with lust as he watched you thread your arms through the sleeves that were much too big for you. 

Oh, you were having too much fun with this game, making sure the flannel covered your ass as you turned away from him, letting the towel fall from around your chest to pool at your feet. You grinned wildly at his audible groan as you started feeding the buttons through their respective holes, stopping just low enough that your nipples were covered, but not much else.

You took a step back, glancing at your appearance in your floor-length mirror on the opposite side of your room. “Think it suits me, personally,” you turned, placing a hand on your waist, accentuating just how baggy his clothes were on you. “Don’t you?”

Logan’s chest heaved at the sight of you in his clothes. His clothes. Your hips swayed as you sauntered towards him, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans and tugging him closer. His breath hitched as you traced your fingertips across his naval, only briefly dipping below the waist of his jeans, untucking the white singlet he was wearing. “Cat got your tongue?” your voice was as softly teasing as your fingers, his entire body shivering as your hands skirted beneath the white fabric, your palm cooler against his heated skin.

“You’re playin’ with fire, sweetheart.” He grit as you thumbed the thick vein pulsing just inside his hip bone. That sweet scent of your arousal hit him like a truck as you leaned up to his ear, biting softly at the sensitive skin just beneath. 

“Then ain’t it just peachy I can heal?” you used his phrasing from before, and it was Logan’s undoing. Ducking back, he crashed his lips onto yours, your mouth eagerly parting to allow his thick tongue to dance with yours. He wrenched your hands from his front, throwing them around his neck as he lifted you from the floor in exactly the same way he did not an hour ago. 

Though this time you moaned freely as your core pushed against the steadily growing steel in his jeans. He bucked his hips in response, growling as you both all but fell onto the bed, your hands tightening their rough grip in his hair. He let his eyes roll as he nipped the supple flesh of your lips, trailing open-mouthed kisses down to your chin, over your jaw and into your neck. His tongue smoothing the sharp bites he left against your skin.

“Logan…” you breathed his name when he found the scar on the side of your neck, your hands clawing at his shoulders when he sucked a small bruise against the mark. You gasped, tilting your head up to provide him with easier access.

His hands had been trailing up and down your sides, venturing beneath his shirt, feeling your bare skin against his palm. Your chest inflated as he teased the underside of your breasts with his fingers, and he nipped against that spot on your neck at the same time as encasing your breasts in his hands. You whimpered beneath him and it was everything he’d dreamed of, and so much more. 

“Fuck, sweetheart you’re killin’ me.” He groaned as you wrapped your legs around his waist again, pulling his clothed cock closer to your core. His hands squeezed and groped at the soft skin of your chest, rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, pinching just hard enough to hear you gasp again.

He could tell you were getting impatient, your hands trailing down his back to the hem of his singlet, pulling it up to his shoulders. He drew back from you briefly, sitting on his heels and pulling the top over his head. You swore you drooled.

“Holy shit Lo’, you’ve been keepin’ this from me?” You followed him up, your legs still wrapped around his hips as your hands found the muscles of his abs, drinking in every valley, plain and peak of his physique. Your fingers grazed up through the hair dusting his chest, bracing against the hard plateaus of his pecs. “Fuck me…” you breathed in disbelief, and Logan responded with a wild smirk.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” he trailed off, hands cupping the sides of your neck as he brought you in for another searing kiss. Logan gently pushed you back down on the bed, swallowing your low moans of need. His fingers deftly plucked at the buttons of his shirt, exposing more of your body for his hands to feast on. He pulled back again to shove the material off your shoulders, dragging it from beneath you to discard on the floor. “Gorgeous.” He uttered under his breath.

You were completely bare before him, and his eyes locked onto every perfect imperfection on your body, from the various scars on your chest and stomach to the small dents left behind by his own fingertips. You panted softly, placing a foot against his shoulder just as he went to lean back down and hold your lips hostage once again.

“Even this up, Howlett.” You breathed, and Logan turned his head to nip your ankle sharply. Though before he could even think about loosening his belt, you’d already surged forward, your hands flying to the buckle at his waist, your head ducking into the crook of his neck you so often liked to nestle into. Only this time you bit savagely, earning yourself a surprise, husky groan. 

There was a soft clink of metal as you pulled at the leather around his waist, placing it within arm’s reach. Just in case, you told yourself as you licked at the slight salt of his clavicle. You popped the button of his jeans, careful to pull down the zipper before shoving the rough fabric down below his hips. Logan tugged them the rest of the way, shoving them somewhere with the rest of the discarded clothes. 

You fell back against the pillows of your bed, unable to stop yourself from biting your lip as you devoured the sight of his tented briefs, his heaving chest and dark eyes. Crawling back over your sprawled form, Logan dipped back to your neck, ghosting his lips down across your collarbones, his tongue lavishing the dip between the bone and your throat, before descending further between your breasts. 

He nipped at the soft flesh, his mouth fluttering from left to right as if he couldn’t pick which one he wanted to devour. Your back arched in desperation, pushing your pebbled nipples further into his face before he sucked one into his mouth, teething slightly the sensitive skin. You gasped his name, your nails returning to his sinewy shoulders as pleasure coursed through your veins, one of your hands reaching up to grip the headboard behind you. Fuck he was good at this, switching between sucking softly and nipping sharply, before releasing your breath with a gentle pop, only to devour the other. 

Your hips bucked against his abdomen and he moaned against you, grinding his desperate cock against the soft fabric of your duvet. He wanted to taste you first, wanted to feel you on his tongue before he even thought about fucking you. His hands replaced his mouth on your breasts as he travelled further down your body, biting and sucking every scar he came across before he was nestled sweetly between your thighs, drowning in the sickly sweet scent of your dripping arousal glistening between your thighs, the coarse, dark hair around your cunt now completely damp.

Anticipation set your nerves alight as you waited for him to do something, anything. And you threw your head back when his lips settled on your inner thigh, finding yet another scar for his tongue and teeth to explore. You whined softly, needily when he skipped your pussy completely, moving to the other side and leaving a mess of bruises for you to inspect later. 

“Fuck Logan, do something!” You managed to grit, feeling his huffed laughter fan your aching cunt. 

“I am doing somethin’ baby. Wanna be more specific?” he teased lightly, fingers tracing circles against your outer thigh. You bucked your hips towards his face, grinding into thin air. You called to him like a siren calls to a lost sailor, and he was all too happy to fall into the ocean for you as long as he was allowed to stay here for the rest of his long life. 

“Fuck me with your tongue goddamnit!” you spat impatiently, and he grinned victoriously. His grip tightened against your thighs as he dragged you down and onto his face, his lips instantly latching onto your swollen clit. 

You pitched back, spine arching as you pinched your lips together to stop yourself from crying out. Bolts of electric pleasure struck each and every nerve, setting you on fire as you writhed beneath his tongue, your hands darting to his hair, dragging him to where you needed him most.

Logan’s deep groan reverberated against your throbbing pearl, adding another layer to your ecstasy, and you barely managed to make a mental note that he liked his hair pulled before you were drowning in honey-laced lightning once again. 

You tasted better than he could ever imagine, and he’d imagined this a lot in the last two months. Your slick like morning dew on his tongue, he ate you out as if he were starved. He guessed he was, in a way. Starved of having you like this, a whimpering, moaning mess beneath him. It fucked with his head, the way you sounded so submissive and yet the grip in his hair was anything but. His cock throbbed with each tug, tip leaking copiously as one of his hands shifted from the outside of your thigh to inside, teasing your throbbing entrance with his fingertips. 

Your mouth hung open as he slowly inserted a thick finger, your walls clamping down as if he would try to escape. Logan latched onto your clit once again, sucking along with every pulse of his wrist, the pad of his fingertip massaging that delicious bundle of nerves hidden inside your cunt. 

Back arching, chest heaving, you held his head exactly there, not letting him move as you could feel those knots tighten and tense, the thread of your arousal building to snap into a mind-blowing orgasm. Your hips undulated in time to the pumps of his finger and the sucks of your clit, riding his face with each pulse of hot pleasure.

You couldn’t stop your pitched whine as he slowly inserted a second finger into your tight cunt, curling them against your liquid heat. You gasped his name to the sky above, managing to crack your eyes open and look down to where he’d made a home between your thighs. 

Sensing your gaze on him, Logan raised his eyes to yours. Your pinched brows, flush face, and gaping mouth were all the encouragement he needed to tongue-fuck you with renewed vigour, lapping at your leaking essence with reckless abandon.

“Fuck! F–fuck, Logan… ‘m gonna cum. G’gonna– gonna make me cum!” you warned, and he responded with nothing but a dark, sadistic smirk as he ground his fingers against that spot that made you see stars.

With another, long suck of your clit, you came undone, the wire finally snapping as you barrelled into your orgasm. Your hands clawed at the sheets by your head, your back arched off the bed with a soft cry of his name. Logan held you fast against his face, eliciting a deep moan, loudly slurping your release like it would in any way satiate his thirst for you. But it only served as an aphrodisiac for his own neglected desires. 

Shadows trembled around the room as you panted with each wave of ecstasy, your hips bucking with no rhyme or reason against his face until the pleasure became a little too much, a little too intense, and you had to tug him away by his hair, gasping as you were met with resistance before he acquiesced.  

You felt like you were floating, basking in the cloud-like afterglow of your high, only to be brought back by Logan’s hand cupping your face, guiding you to look at him and his smug smirk.

“Still with me?” he asked cockily, and you didn’t have the mind to do anything but nod and laugh lightly.

“Yeah, just about. I take it back… You’re definitely experienced…” you breathed and he hummed a chuckle against your cheek. 

“Been around for a while, you learn a thing or two,” he grinned before his jaw went slack with a silent moan. He hadn’t noticed your hand move from beside your head, only realising when you palmed his steel cock through his briefs. You gently pushed his shoulder until he rolled onto his back, swinging your leg over his waist to seat yourself atop his aching heat, rolling your hips slightly and watching as his head fell back, neck exposed for you.

Leaning down, you licked a long stripe up his throat and along the rough stubble beneath his bearded jaw, pinching his ear between your teeth. You tugged slightly, and his hands braced against your waist, guiding you to continue your movements with your hips. You wanted to take your time with him the same way he did with you, but your desperation to feel him inside of you outweighed your yearning to both hear and taste him cum on your tongue. 

Sitting back on your heels, you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his briefs, dragging them down over his muscular thighs, smirking slightly as his cock sprang back to lightly slap against his naval. He was fucking delectable, flushed tip leaking clear slick, veins pulsing down either side of his shaft. You pushed down the want to trace them with your tongue as you shoved his fabric past his knees. 

Logan kicked off his briefs a little too eagerly, and if he wasn’t so drunk off arousal, he would check his behaviour. But the truth was, he didn’t care. Not in this moment. Not when you scooted back a little to take his member in your hands, slowly sliding your palms up and down. 

“Shit darlin’, like that. Fuck, just like that…” he groaned lowly, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as you circled his tip with the centre of your palm. His hips bucked into your grip as you alternated your hands, using a corkscrew motion that had him squeezing his eyes shut, every sense consumed by the pleasure you were giving him. 

You thumbed down one of those pulsing veins and watched as he inhaled sharply, bearing his teeth in a silent, heated snarl. Biting your lip, you rose on your knees, leaning forwards before sinking onto his cock. 

Your back arched as he filled you, stretching your needy cunt deliciously. A long, low moan rose from the depths of Logan’s chest as you seated yourself fully, your cunt pulsing rhythmically around his sensitive heat. Taking a moment to adjust to the feeling, your nails sank into the muscles of his chest, slowly clawing down to his naval and watching as his brows pinched in desperation.

If you were feeling a little meaner, you’d have made him wait. But you’d both waited long enough, so you languidly rolled your hips, mouth falling open as his tip grazed the spot his fingers had been massaging not moments ago. “Logan…” you uttered breathlessly, falling into a steady tempo. 

The shadows of the room quivered and shifted along with your movements, and you felt an itch along your back up to your shoulder blades. Logan cracked his eyes open, watching as the darkness around the room morphed into those same two, broad wings he’d seen that first time your mutation flared. However, nothing was threatening about the sight. If anything, seeing the way they flexed and fluttered as you picked up your pace filled him with a sense of wonder. Fuck you were so fucking beautiful.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you, fighting with his instincts to pound up into you in favour of savouring the way your hips ground against him, your cunt squeezing him in a vice grip, obsidian wings extending towards the edges of your room. Rising into a sit, you whimpered softly with the slight jostle, before downright crying out as his fingers grazed the shadowy membrane. 

You panted into his parted lips, barely able to form a thought other than how fucking good he felt inside you as you bounced on his cock, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and clawing red hot lines down the thick muscles of his back. Logan growled in your ear, no longer able to resist the urge to fuck up into your molten ecstasy.

“You’re so fuckin’ good sweetheart. Feel so fuckin’ good.” he groaned, moving his hand from your wind to your waist, encouraging your movements. He could tell you were close, your thighs shaking slightly both with the effort and the pleasure, your pitched whimpers fanning his neck as you buried your head, nipping and biting in the space where his shoulder met his throat. 

“‘M so fucking close… fuck ‘m so close!” you gaped, nails still scratching down his back, earning yourself yet another delicious growl. Logan bucked his hips, pulling your head back from his neck by your hair to look him in the eye. He wanted to watch. Craved the sight of you losing control on his cock, because of his cock. The hand on your waist skirted down between your thighs, fingers expertly playing with your clit as you crested your high.

Head thrown back, spine arched, you exploded in euphoria, pleasure coursing through your body like a tidal wave, crashing on the shore. Your wings flared in either direction, shaking as he continued to grind his tip deep inside you, rubbing your swollen, sensitive pearl ruthlessly. Breathing came second to feeling, unable to inhale as you all but seized up completely, your muscles trembling along with every wave of your orgasm. 

Logan panted against the hollow of your throat, all and any self-control quickly dissolving as he recklessly flipped you both over, your clock and lamp clattering to the floor as the tips of your void-like wings swept beneath you, his hands gripping the pillow beside your head.

Seeing you cum on him like that, feeling your walls tightened and quiver, Logan lost every semblance of self-control he was clinging to. Sinking his teeth into the sensitive flesh of your neck, he pounded into you relentlessly. Pure, unadulterated pleasure spiked through his system as you whimpered and whined beneath him, your nails clutching his shoulders, breaking the skin and clinging on. 

“Fuckin’ perfect for me. Shit darlin’, squeezing me so good.” He snarled before his teeth returned to the dents he’d made against your neck. He tasted iron as he bit down and you cried out in pain-addled pleasure, dragging your sharp nails from his shoulders, down either side of his spine, to the dip in his back. Your ankles locked around his waist, and it was his undoing. 

Logan’s hips stuttered as he utterly lost control, his staggered groan muffled by the skin of your neck, eyes screwed so tight he saw stars. His fingers gripped the fabric on either side of your head, razor-sharp claws ripping through the threads and sinking into the headboard as he hit his climax, bucking with each spasm of ecstasy flooding his veins. His cock reached new depths as he filled you so completely, anchoring deep within your cunt. Muscles flexing and contracting, he rode out his orgasm as your tight walls milked him for all he was worth, before he almost collapsed into you, his chest heaving.

He struggled to recall a time when he’d cum so fucking hard, his ears almost ringing as those sharp bolts of pleasure started to recede and he pulled his teeth from your neck, tongue swiping up the small trickles of blood he’d drawn. 

Were you still alive? Honestly, you couldn’t tell, feeling so weightless you were sure your soul had left your body. You only knew you were still clutching to the mortal coil because of the satisfying scratch in your shoulder blades as those shadows returned to the room, leaving you with just your corporeal body. 

Logan rose on his arms, his claws retracting into his knuckles as he looked down at you, and you looked up at him, both speechless. Why the fuck had the two of you waited so long to do that. Your brows pinched as he pulled out of you, his hand cupping the side of your face. Since neither of you could form words, he encouraged you to speak through your lips, moulding his own against your mouth.

And you poured every ounce of your adoration into him, arms circling his shoulders, holding him close. You could feel his grin growing before he drew back from you, sweat sliding down his brow.

You responded by mirroring his smile, laughter bubbling from your chest. “Holy shit…” you manage to breathe as he rolled off you, drawing you into his tight embrace. 

He inhaled deeply, basking in the scent of flowers, iron, sweat and sex. “Yeah…” was all he could say, still finding himself reeling a little. “Sorry ‘bout your neck. And your pillows. And headboard… and lamp……” he paused sheepishly. “And the clock.”

You giggled madly as he rolled onto his back, pulling you with him and using you almost as a blanket. You folded your arms across his chest, Bracing your chin atop the backs of your hands and gazed up at him whilst he got comfortable, an arm propped up behind his head. “Please, I think a clock and lamp are worth possibly the best sex I’ve had in my life.” You smirked, bending your legs at the knee for your heels to rest at your tailbone. 

“Yeah? Better than the infamous Shots Shack bin shed?” he teased, cocking a brow.

“Know your limits, Howlett,” You bit back, to his deep chuckle of amusement. Letting the silence settle for a moment, you allowed yourself to reflect on what had just transpired, blinking in realisation as you remembered. “Did… did I pull the shadows…?” you asked slowly, and Logan’s smile widened to a toothy grin.

“Yep. Now that I think about it… this might be a good way to train.” You smacked his chest, your face a picture of faux scandal. 

“Logan Howlett, are you suggesting we have sex every time we train?” You asked in mock offence, unable to keep your façade as he genuinely debated it for a moment. “Not sure Charles would be too pleased. Or Scott, for that matter.”

“I’m sure they’d get over it,” he responded and you snorted a laugh, rising from his chest to sit at his side, stretching your sore arms and back. Your neck throbbed a little, but honestly, you didn’t mind, it served as a reminder of the pleasure you’d just shared. It was the best kind of pain. 

The idea of showering now filled you with dread. You couldn’t be fucking bothered, realistically. Besides, Logan seemed to like it when you smelt like a dead horse earlier. Settling on your decision, you tugged at the duvet beneath you both, clambering beneath the soft blanket and snuggling into his side, an arm slung across his front, ear pressed against the beat of his heart.

A fond smile pulled at his lips as he looked down at you nestled against his chest, your deep sigh fanning his pecs. It had been far too long since he’d felt peace like this. Far too long since he’d felt this kind of comfort, it almost made his eyes water, only now recognising how fucking lonely he’s felt. 

Sinking back into the pillows, Logan’s arms wrapped around your tired form, holding you close. God fucking help anything or anyone that dares try and take this away from him. He’d lost too much, and though he was terrified of losing you too, it only solidified that he’d fight claw, tooth and nail to keep you safe.

Your breathing steadied as you succumbed to the exhaustion and slow, soothing swipes of Logan’s thumb against your waist. It would take a while for him to fall asleep, and he wished he’d had the foresight to bring a cigar with him when he came to retrieve his flannel. But just like you with your shower, the idea of even leaving the bed wasn’t even worth entertaining, let alone the idea of leaving you.

So instead he simply lay with you, listening to the sound of your breathing and the beat your your heart, until sleep knocked at the door of his mind, and he closed his eyes.

Only to snap awake mere hours later. What the time was, he had no idea, your clock at been knocked to the ground in the tryst. You’d both shifted in your sleep and whilst your head was still buried in his chest, he’d turned to face you. 

Logan’s eyes blinked against the darkness, adjusting rapidly to the severe lack of light. Something was off. He could sense it. 

Silently, his claws fed through his knuckles, instinctively moving his hands from your body as he slowly raised his head.

And froze solid.

Seven humanoid figures draped in smoking shadow stood around the bed, heads cocked to the same side as if their necks had been snapped. His pulse quickened, adrenaline pumping through his veins, fight or flight response triggered.

Although, there was never much flight involved when it came to Logan. He didn’t move, not out of fear, but to not provoke anything. They stood unnaturally still, simply watching with eyeless faces. You shifted in your sleep, and Logan spared a glance at your vulnerable state, his protective instincts flaring wildly at this unknown threat. 

Simultaneously, they all began to sink into the floor, and Logan watched with subdued horror as their bodies faded into the darkness as you stirred awake.

“Lo’? You ‘kay?” you asked groggily, your eyes heavy with sleep. 

He nodded. “Fine. Heard something ‘s’all.” He lied, though making a promise to tell you the truth once the sun had risen. “Probably just one of the kids. Go back to sleep,” he smoothed your hair from your face as he settled back next to you, wrapping you up safely in his arms. You breathed deeply, murmuring something even he couldn’t comprehend before you were dragged once again back to sleep.

Logan stayed awake until long into the small hours of the morning, watching the room with vigilance, glancing it at you with each slight sound you made in your sleep. But whatever those things were, they didn’t return that night. 

[cryptidclaw]

Star Firesight!

Bonus! Healer/Second Firesight:

And Outsider/Apprentice Rusty/Fire:

Design Notes:

I redesigned him again despite saying I would stop doing that... Prev design and old bio here.

He still has a lot of the same features as my previous design, i mostly just changed his pattern and coloring! I wanted him to be a rustier color!

I also changed his cheek fluff to be round, mostly just for an interesting face shape! his cheek fluff hangs a little more flat when he's older just to give him a more matured look (hes been thru some shit, his cheeks hath deflated)

Character Bio:

Star Firesight

(Fireheart/star)

Bisexual & Polyamorous; Trans Tom; he/him

Age as of 1st arc's beginning: 7 moons; 11 Hyrs

Age as of 1st arc's end: 2 cycles, 5 moons; ~26 Hyrs

Title meaning: -sight = this cat can spot things that others cannot; a cat with a close connection to the Stars; this healer receives many signs from the Stars; the healer may also be very good at spotting illnesses or injuries.

Outsider -> Healer -> Second -> Leader of Thunder Order

Mentor: Redtail (died) -> Spottedleaf

Mother: Nutmeg

Father: Jake

Sibling: Sapheart (Princess)

Half Siblings: Socks; Ruby: Tinyclaw

Mates: Sandstorm; Shriketail

Kits: Squirrelflight (sire: Sand); Leafpool (sire: Shrike); Foxleap (sire: Sand); Icecloud (sire: Shrike)

Grandkits: Star Hollyleaf; Falconstrike; Jaywing; Alderheart; Sparkfire

Other notable kin: Cloudtail (nephew); Snowshoe (nephew); Mistletoe (niece); Spiderleg (nephew); Shrew (nephew)

Notes:

Firesight has chronic pain (and mobility issues later in life):

Fire has the Scottish Fold breed's mutation which effects cartilage in the body, this causes his ears to fold, but it also causes chronic joint pain and can progress into swollen and inflexible joints.

For Fire, he is has the heterozygous version of this mutation, which means that his disability progresses more slowly, as a young cat he does experience some joint pain, with some days being worse than others. He is able to medicate with his own chronic pain herbal mix he created as a Healer. However as Fire grows older his joints will worsen, and by the time of his old age he will be unable to jump and some days is unable to walk.

He is able to still use his medication to aid him and is able to lead a happy life, but he is disabled and I didnt want to leave that out of his character! It's important to have disability rep (and spread awareness of the issues with the Scottish Fold breed) and I hope I serve him justice!

Character Summary:

In Progress (to be added later)

...

[Image 1 ID: a digital drawing of Star Firesight, an AU version of Firestar from Warrior Cats. He is standing with his left side showing and has a proud and happy expression with a smile. He is a short, chubby and round shaped rusty orange and red tabby tom with small folded ears and green eyes. his chest, underbelly and paws are all a lighter shade of orange, and he has a red stripe down his back as well as a single red swoop shaped stripe on his side. He has red to orange striping on his face and red freckles on his cheeks. His right ear is brownish-black, he also has a small black spot above his nose and a black stripe on his back. He has a white flame shaped spot on his chest, a white muzzle, white paws and a white tail tip. He wears yellow flowers and green leaves in his pelt and a simple crown rests on his forehead made up of a diamond shaped red stone and a small teardrop shaped white stone below it./End ID]

[Image 2 ID: a digital drawing of Firesight, an AU version of Fireheart from Warrior Cats. this drawing is almost the exact same as the first image, but in this he has no crown./End ID]

[Image 3 ID: a digital drawing of Fire, an AU version of Firepaw from Warrior Cats. this drawing is almost the exact same as the first image, but in this he has no crown, or flowers and leaves adorning his pelt. his face also seems younger and he has a brighter happy expression on his face with his mouth open in a smile like he is talking./End ID]

[pikahlua]

MHA Chapter 429 spoilers translations

This week’s initial tentative super rough/literal translations under the cut.

1 僕の"個性"が「家系のどこにも属さないとつぜんへんい」だと聞いて ぼくの"こせい"が「かけいのどこにもぞくさないとつぜんへんい」だときいて boku no "kosei" ga 「kakei no doko ni mo zokusanai totsuzen hen'i」 da to kiite I heard my quirk is "a sudden mutation that didn't belong to any of the family's lineages."

2 パパもママもシスターもおじさんもおばさんもばぁばもじぃじも大じぃじも急に優しくなくなった パパもママもシスターもおじさんもおばさんもばぁばもじぃじもおおじぃじもきゅうにやさしくなくなった PAPA mo MAMA mo SHISUTAA mo ojisan mo obasan mo baaba mo jiiji mo oojiiji mo kyuu ni yasashiku nakunatta Papa, Mama, Sister, Uncle, Aunt, Grandma, Grandpa, and Great-Granddad all of a sudden stopped being nice to me.

tagline 1 ある少年の独白ーー あるしょうねんのどくはくーー aru shounen no dokuhaku-- A boy's soliloquy--

3 皆は僕を縛りつけて地下室に閉じ込めた みんなはぼくをしばりつけてちかしつにとじこめた minna wa boku wo shibari tsukete chikashitsu ni tojikometa They tied me up and locked me in the basement.

4 恐くて悲しくて泣き叫んでいたら こわくてかなしくてなきさけんでいたら kowakute kanashikute nakisakende itara I was scared and sad and crying out.

5 口が大きく開かないよう縫われた くちがおおきくひらかないようぬわれた kuchi ga ookiku hirakanai you nuwareta My mouth was sewn shut to prevent it from opening wide.

6 何年経ったかわからないある日 なんねんたったかわからないあるひ nannen tatta ka wakaranai aru hi One day, after I don't know how many years passed,

7 「この国は終わる」と言って 「このくにはおわる」といって 「kono kuni wa owaru」 to itte they said, "This country is finished,"

8 人抱えの水と菓子パンを放り込んだきり ひとかかえのみずとかしパンをほうりこんだきり hito kakae no mizu to kashi PAN wo hourikonda kiri and after they threw in what water and pastries they could carry

9 皆は二度と現れなくなった みんなはにどとあらわれなくなった minna wa nido to arawarenaku natta none of them ever appeared again.

tagline 2 No.429　私が来た！　堀越耕平 ナンバー429　わたしがきた！　ほりこしこうへい NANBAA 429 watashi ga kita! Horikoshi Kouhei No. 429 I Am Here! Kouhei Horikoshi

10 しばらく経って しばらくたって shibaraku tatte After a while,

11 もの凄い衝撃と共に地下室にキレツが入ったので ものすごいしょうげきとともにちかしつにキレツがはいったので monosugoi shougeki to tomo ni chikashitsu ni KIRETSU ga haitta node with a tremendous impact, a crack entered the basement, so

12 なんとか外に出ることができた なんとかそとにでることができた nantoka soto ni deru koto ga dekita I managed to get outside.

1 久し振りの日の光はとても痛くて恐かった ひさしぶりの��のひかりはとてもいたくてこわかった hisashiburi no hi no hikari wa totemo itakute kowakatta The light of the sun for the first time in such a long time was very painful and scary.

2 何がいけなかったのだろう なにがいけなかったのだろう nani ga ikenakatta no darou What was it that I did wrong?

3 何でこんなに悲しいのだろう なんでこんなにかなしいのだろう nande konna ni kanashii no darou Why am I so sad like this?

4 とにかく僕は とにかくぼくは tonikaku boku wa In any case, I

5 ずうっと恐くて悲しいのに ずうっとこわくてかなしいのに zuutto kowakute kanashii noni am always so scared and sad,

6 なのにどうしてこの人たちは なのにどうしてこのひとたちは nanoni doushite kono hito-tachi wa so why is it these people

7 笑っているんだろう わらっているんだろう waratte irundarou are smiling?

1 人の喜ぶ顔が好きだった ひとのよろこぶかおがすきだった hito no yorokobu kao ga suki datta I liked people's happy faces.

2 だからヒーローを目指したのに だからヒーローをめざしたのに dakara HIIROO wo mezashita noni That's why I aimed to be a hero, but

3 お茶子ちゃんは おちゃこちゃんは Ochako-chan wa Ochako-chan,

4 ヒーローらしく正しい事をするだけでよかったのに ヒーローらしくただしいことをするだけでよかったのに HIIROO rashiku tadashii koto wo suru dake de yokatta noni it would have been fine to just do the correct thing like a hero would. (Note: This is a flashback to chapter 395.)

5 ぐうっ guu "Ggh."

6 なのに余計な事"考えて"… なのによけいなこと"かんがえて"… nanoni yokei na koto "kangaete"... You nevertheless think about unnecessary things… (Note: Still a flashback to chapter 395.)

7 私は わたしは watashi wa I

8 ヒミコちゃんの命の上に生かされた ヒミコちゃんのいのちのうえにいかされた HIMIKO-chan no inochi no ue ni ikasareta was made to survive over Himiko-chan's life.

9 私のした事は わたしのしたことは watashi no shita koto wa What I did...

1 麗日さん‼︎ うららかさん‼︎ Uraraka-san!! "Uraraka-san!!"

2-3 デクくん DEKU-kun "Deku-kun,"

4 どうして doushite "why..."

5 ここが koko ga "this place..."

6 どうやって… dou yatte... "how did you..."

7 なんとなく…！ nantonaku...! "Somehow or other*...!" (*Note: This "somehow" has an implication that the answer is unimportant to the speaker, like "It's not a big deal," or "Never you mind that.")

8 ワン・フォー・オールでとんできた WAN FOO OORU de tonde kita "I flew up here with One For All."

1 此処は ここは koko wa "This place is"

2 大切な話をした場所だから たいせつなはなしをしたばしょだから taisetsu na hanashi wo shita basho dakara "where we had an important conversation, that's why."

3 そうやなくて sou yanakute "That's not what I mean."

4-5 一旦家帰るって言ったやん いったんいえかえるっていったやん ittan ie kaeru tte itta yan "Didn't I say I'd go home temporarily?"

6 帰れてたら帰れてたで良いんだでも かえれてたらかえれてたでいいんだでも kaeretetara kaereteta de iinda demo "If you had gone home, that'd have been fine, but"

7 此処にいると思ったんだ ここにいるとおもったんだ koko ni iru to omottanda "I thought you'd be here."

8 ……何で ……なんで ......nande "......Why?"

9 …見られたくないのに …みられたくないのに ...miraretakunai noni "...I didn't want to be seen."

10 ごめん gomen "Sorry."

11 でも…見せてほしいんだ でも…みせてほしいんだ demo...misete hoshiinda "But...I want you to show me."

12 だって麗日さんは だってうららかさんは datte Uraraka-san wa "Because, Uraraka-san,"

13 いつもそうじゃないか itsumo sou ja nai ka "aren't you always like that?*" (Note: He's talking about how Ochako has been keeping up a happy facade for a while but he wants her to let him see her sadness.)

1 入試の時だって にゅうしのときだって nyuushi no toki datte "Even at the entrance exam,”

2 私の"個性"ごめんね勝手に わたしの"こせい"ごめんねかってに watashi no "kosei" gomen ne katte ni It's my quirk. Sorry for stopping you, but...

3 でも転んじゃったら縁起悪いもんね でもころんじゃったらえんぎわるいもんね demo koronjattara engi warui mon ne well, it's a bad omen to trip and fall. (Note: This is from chapter 3.)

4 合否のポイントのことだって ごうひのポイントのことだって gouhi no POINTO no koto datte "even about the points [I needed] to pass,"

5 私のポイント分けるって出来ませんか⁉︎ わたしのポイントわけるってできませんか⁉︎ watashi no POINTO wakeru tte dekimasen ka!? Can you give him some of the points I earned!? (Note: This is from chapter 4.)

6 ずっとーーー zutto--- "all the time---"

7 ーーいつも --itsumo "--always."

8 でもデクって「頑張れ」って感じで でもデクって「がんばれ」ってかんじで demo DEKU tte 「ganbare」 tte kanji de But "Deku," well... It just screams, "Do your best!!"

9 なんか好きだ私 なんかすきだわたし nan ka suki da watashi I kinda like it. (Note: This is from chapter 7.)

10 自分の事より じぶんのことより jibun no koto yori "More than yourself,”

11 他人を優先して！ ひとをゆうせんして！ hito (kanji: tanin) wo yuusen shite! "you make other people your priority!"

12 体育祭の時だって たいいくさいのときだって taiikusai no toki datte "Even during the sports festival."

13 いつも itsumo "Always,"

14 ずっと！ zutto! "all the time!"

1 デクくん落ち着け！ デクくんおちつけ！ DEKU-kun ochitsuke! Deku-kun, calm down! (Note: This is from chapter 211.)

2 ずっと救けられっぱなしだ！ ずっとたすけられっぱなしだ！ zutto tasukerareppanashi da! "You've always been saving me!"

3 彼のヒーローアカデミアでいさせて下さい！ かれのヒーローアカデミアでいさせてください！ kare no HIIROO AKADEMIA de isasete kudasai! Please let him stay at his hero academia! (Note: This is from chapter 324.)

4 僕のヒーローだ！ ぼくのヒーローだ！ boku no HIIROO da! "You're my hero!"

5-6 だから…君の強さだけに寄りかからない だから…きみのつよさだけによりかからない dakara...kimi no tsuyosa dake ni yorikakaranai "That's why...I won't rely on only your strength [alone].”

1 手を握るだけで心が和らぐんだよ てをにぎるだけでこころがやわらぐんだよ te wo nigiru dake de kokoro ga yawaragunda yo "Just holding hands soothes the heart."

2 …ヒミコちゃん ...HIMIKO-chan "...Himiko-chan."

3 ヒーローが辛い時 ヒーローがつらいとき HIIROO ga tsurai toki When heroes are hurting...

4 私のせいで死んじゃった わたしのせいでしんじゃった watashi no sei de shinjatta "It's my fault she died."

1 私が刺されなかったら…‼︎ わたしがさされなかったら…‼︎ watashi ga sasarenakattara...!! "If I hadn't been stabbed...!!"

2 余計なこと考えたから…‼︎ よけいなことかんがえたから…‼︎ yokei na koto kangaeta kara...!! "It's because I thought about unnecessary stuff...!!"

3 人に血を分けられる"個性"だったの…‼︎ ひとにちをわけられる"こせい"だったの…‼︎ hito ni chi wo wakerareru "kosei" datta no...!! "It was a quirk that could give out blood to people...!!"

4 あんな形でなくても…！見つけられる方法がなかったかなあっ‼︎ あんなかたちでなくても…！みつけられるほうほうがなかったかなあっ‼︎ anna katachi de nakutemo...! mitsukerareru houhou ga nakatta ka naa!! "Even if it didn't seem like [it could do] that...! I wonder if there wasn't a way I could have found that out [sooner]!!"

5 もっと早く…!!! もっとはやく…!!! motto hayaku...!!! "[If I had been] faster...!!!"

6 気付けてたら‼︎ きづけてたら‼︎ kudzuketetara!! "If I only I had realized!!"

7 もっと motto "[If I had been] more..."

8 子どもの時に会えてたら違ったかなあ⁉︎ こどものときにあえてたらちがったかなあ⁉︎ kodomo no toki ni aetetara chigatta ka naa!? "Would it be different if we had met when we were children!?"

9-10 誰がヒーローを守ってあげられるだろう だれがヒーローをまもってあげられるだろう dare ga HIIROO wo mamotte agerareru darou ...who protects the heroes?

11 僕も ぼくも boku mo "Me, too."

12 転弧…死柄木弔に…同じ事引きずってる てんこ…しがらきとむらに…おなじことひきずってる Tenko...Shigaraki Tomura ni...onaji koto hikizutteru "Tenko...about Tomura Shigaraki...I've been dragging around the same things."

13 この戦いをこれまでと同じように消費していかないように このたたかいをこれまでとおなじようにしょうひしていかないように kono tatakai wo kore made to onaji you ni shouhi shite ikanai you ni "I hope I don't let this fight consume me in the same way as I did before."

14 AFOに言われたよ オール・フォー・ワンにいわれたよ OORU FOO WAN ni iwareta yo "All For One told me,"

15 おまえのしようとしてる道は茨の道だって おまえのしようとしてるみちはいばらのみちだって omae no shiyou to shiteru michi wa ibara no michi datte "the path you've chosen is a thorny one." (Note: This is a reference to chapter 316.)

1 それでも…ーー soredemo...-- "Even so...--"

2 余計なお世話でも手を差し伸ばしていけば…きっと必ず‼︎ よけいなおせわでもてをさしのばしていけば…きっとかならず‼︎ yokei na osewa demo te wo sashinobashite ikeba...kitto kanarazu!! "even if it's none of my business, if I reach out my hand...then surely, definitely...!!" (Note: This line isn’t cut off, but the conclusion of what will “surely, definitely” happen is implied and unspoken.)

3 あ‼︎マジでいたア‼︎ a!! MAJI de itaA!! "Ah!! They really were here!!"

4 麗日あ‼︎俺らも来たぞ！ うららかあ‼︎おれらもきたぞ！ Urarakaa!! orera mo kita zo! "Urarakaa!! We're here, too!"

5 お茶子ちゃんのばか！ おちゃこちゃんのばか！ Ochako-chan no baka! "Ochako-chan, you idiot!"

1 言ってくれるの待ってたのよ何でも思ったら言っていいのよ いってくれるのまってたのよなんでもおもったらいっていいのよ itte kuraru no matteta no yo nandemo omottara itte ii no yo "I was waiting for you to say [something]! Whatever you're thinking about, it's fine for you to say it!"

2 ブッ飛ばしてたけど ブッとばしてたけど BUttobashiteta kedo "They flew you over here, but"

3 残り火大丈夫か？ のこりびだいじょうぶか？ nokoribi daijoubu ka? "are the embers okay?"

4 うん un "Yeah."

5 え e "Eh?"

6 "残り火"…ってえ…それって "のこりび"…ってえ…それって "nokoribi"...ttee...sore tte "'Embers,' you said... That's..."

7 待て待て まてまて mate mate "Wait, wait!"

8 なんで言ってくんねーんだよ なんでいってくんねーんだよ nande itte kunnenda yo "Why didn't you tell us?"

9 ワン・フォー・オールは完遂した ワン・フォー・オールはかんすいした WAN FOO OORU wa kansui shita One For All completed it, (Note: This word means something like "carried out, accomplished" but in the officials keeps getting translated as "completed.")

10 義勇の力が紡ぎ上げた力の結晶を ぎゆうのちからがつむぎあげたちからのけっしょうを giyuu no chikara ga tsumugi ageta chikara no kesshou wo the crystallization of power spun by the brave and righteous.

1 今度は こんどは kondo wa Next time,

sign 青山送別会‼︎ あおやまそうべつかい‼︎ Aoyama soubetsu-kai!! Aoyama farewell party!!

2 皆で紡げていけたら みんなでつむげていけたら minna de tsumugete iketara if we can all spin it [together]...

3 チャートの拡大？ チャートのかくだい？ CHAATO no kakudai? "Expanding the chart?"

4 ええまァ一環ですが ええまァいっかんですが ee maA ikkan desu ga "Yes, well, that's part of it."

5 もち復興の目度がたってからですよ もちふっこうのめどがたってからですよ mochi fukkou no medo ga ta tte kara desu yo "Of course, it's for after the reconstruction is further along."

6 今回の戦い俺たちヒーロー以外の活躍が大きすぎた こんかいのたたかいおれたちヒーローいがいのかつやくがおおきすぎた konkai no tatakai ore-tachi HIIROO igai no katsuyaku ga ooki sugita "In the battle this time, there were too many great feats [done by those] other than us heroes."

7 現職業ヒーローと併せて"英雄"もピックアップしていきます げんしょくぎょうヒーローとあわせて"えいゆう"もピックアップしていきます genshokugyou HIIROO to awasete "eiyuu" mo PIKKUAPPU shite ikimasu "Along with the current professional heroes, we'll pick up heroes* as well." (*Note: The word used for pro heroes is from the English, "hero," pronounced as HIIROO in Japanese. This new list of "heroes" Hawks suggests uses the Japanese word for hero, eiyuu. Not coincidentally, "UA" gets its name from reversing the kanji in eiyuu: ei・yuu -> yuu・ei.)

8 人気制度を失くす方に傾くと思ってたが にんきせいどをなくすほうにかたむくとおもってたが ninki seido wo nakusu hou ni katamuku to omotteta ga "I was thinking you'd lean towards losing the popularity system, and yet..."

9 功罪の罪に目を向ければそりゃそうですが こうざいのざいにめをむければそりゃそうですが kouzai no zai ni me wo mukereba sorya sou desu ga "If you shift your focus to the cons over the pros, that makes sense, but"

10 俺は功を捨てずにアップデートしたいんス おれはこうをすてずにアップデートしたいんス ore wa kou wo sutezu ni APPUDEETO shitainSU "I want to update it without throwing out the good points."

1 どんな"最高"にも手には限りがある どんな"さいこう"にもてにはかぎりがある donna "saikou" ni mo te ni wa kagiri ga aru "No matter if you're the greatest, your hands have limits."

2 より多くを救えるとしたらそれはきっと職業ヒーローじゃない よりおおくをすくえるとしたらそれはきっとおれたちじゃない yori ooku wo sukueru to shitara sore wa kitto ore-tachi (kanji: shokugyou HIIROO) ja nai "If more can be saved, it's probably not [by] us (read as: professional heroes)."

3 最高のヒーローがたくさんいるようなーー さいこうのヒーローがたくさんいるようなーー saikou no HIIROO ga takusan iru you na-- "It seems like there are a lot of greatest* heroes--" (*Note: Grammatically in English this would read as "there are a lot of great heroes," but the word used here is a superlative, "greatest," used since chapter 1. All Might called Izuku the greatest hero, then later called both Izuku and Katsuki the greatest heroes, and now he's saying there are even more "greatest heroes" than that.)

4 えぇ ee "Yes."

5 ハア HAA "Hah." (Note: This is the sound of someone panting out of breath.)

6 ハア HAA (Note: This is the sound of someone panting out of breath.)

7 何で なんで nande "Why"

8 僕だけ ぼくだけ boku dake "am I the only one"

9 こんなに‼︎ konna ni!! "like this!!"

1 ボク！ BOKU! "Child!"

2 あのあと　あの子はヒーローに助けてもらえたのか あのあと　あのこはヒーローにたすけてもらえたのか ano ato ano ko wa HIIROO ni tasukete moraeta no ka After that, was that child able to be saved by a hero?

3 今でも寝れなくなるときがある いまでもねれなくなるときがある ima demo nerenaku naru toki ga aru Even now, there are times I cannot sleep. (Note: This line implies that the reason she couldn't sleep was because she was kept up by the previous question of wondering if "that child" was saved.)

4 あの日緑谷出久がもたらしたモノ あのひみどりやいずくがもたらしたモノ ano hi Midoriya Izuku ga motarashita MONO "What Izuku Midoriya brought about that day,"

5 応援でもなんでも…"何かせずにいられない" おうえんでもなんでも…"なにかせずにいられない" ouen demo nandemo..."nanika sezu ni irarenai" "whether it's cheering someone on or otherwise...'I can't help but do something.'" (Note: Hawks is saying Izuku inspired within people a feeling or thought like "I can't help but do something," which first manifested as them all cheering Izuku on.)

6 あの日きっと皆に届いた…そしてその先にはある筈です あのひきっとみんなにとどいた…そしてそのさきにはあるはずです ano hi kitto minna ni todoita...soshite sono saki ni wa aru hazu desu "I'm sure it reached everyone that day... And there must be something after that."

1 もう大丈夫だからね もうだいじょうぶだからね mou daijoubu dakara ne "It's okay now."

2 "おばあちゃんが来た"からね "おばあちゃんがきた"からね "obaachan ga kita" kara ne "Because Grandma is here."

3 おーい ooi "Heeey!"

4 どうした２人とも！ どうした２りとも！ doushita 2ri tomo! "What's up, you two!"

5-6 ヒーローが暇な社会 ヒーローがひまなしゃかい HIIROO ga hima na shakai A society where heroes have [too much] free time.

tagline デクたちが起こした風はやがてーー次号最終回ポスターCカラー！ デクたちがおこしたかぜはやがてーーじごうさいしゅうかいポスターCカラー！ DEKU-tachi ga okoshita kaze wa yagate---jigou saishuukai POSUTA C KARAA! The wind brought about by Deku and the others will eventually-- Next issue final poster C color!

[ectopuppy]

Dannymay Day 11: Mutation

omg its the creaturrrrrrr 💕

didnt have to work to make a day fit him this year babey!!

[techwrecker]

platonic Logan howlett x kid reader where Logan takes the kid under his wing because the reader didn’t have like, parents anymore???

Intentions (Mutations)

Summary: After living on the streets for years, Logan takes it upon himself to make sure you're taken care of after your mutation develops.

Genre: Fluff?, light angst?

Tags: SFW platonic!logan, gn!kid!reader, not really fluff but not really angst, logan goes dad mode again

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: N/A (please let me know if I missed any!)

A/N: Thank you for sending in the ask! I hope you enjoy what I have! This is the longest piece I've written yet. Please keep in mind, that I jumbled the already incoherent timeline a little bit- I hope that's okay! Let me know if there are any grammar/spelling errors please. as always, reblogs, likes, & comments are always appreciated ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

AO3//Taglist Sign-up

Other: dividers by @moosgraphics & @bunnysrph (tysm!)

The man standing at the mouth of the alley wasn't the usual kind of grungy, scoundrel that you were used to seeing. He was wearing a slick leather jacket over a pristine, white undershirt. His facial hair was well-kept and stylized unlike the scraggly, long beards that most around here men touted. His hair was seemingly done with a little tuft sticking out atop either side of his head. He could have just had bedhead or hat-hair, but they were too pointed to not be intentional. Ever since you were a kid, your intuition had never led you astray.

'''D'jya hear me, kid? I asked what the hell are y'doin' out in the cold all alone for." His voice was rocky and gruff, but it wasn't slurred or subdued by the weight of yellowed alcohol. You were surprised he even spotted you, huddled up against the frozen dumpster in the alley.

"Got nowhere else to go." You shrugged, attempting to retain the illusion of being unconcerned despite the wicked chill seeping beneath your layers. It wouldn't be long until the bite of winter dug its way deep into your body, carving you out and rattling your bones.

Living on the streets alone wasn't easy, especially in the winter. It had been about three years since your parents disappeared. You were yet but a tender 11 years old. At first, it was nice not having anyone around to make you get up early and go to school. But the days turned to weeks. Crying yourself to sleep night after night snuggled in deep between the fluffy pillows and lifeless covers of your parents' bed became your routine.

Eventually, the police came around after negligence reports by the school. You knew if you stayed alone any longer, you'd be taken away by force, sent off to live with strangers. Something in your stomach made it turn, telling you to run away. That bad things would happen if you stuck around. So, you packed up what your tiny frame could carry and struck out on your own, leaving the only home you had ever known.

"C'mere." He beckoned you out of the shadow with one hand and stuck it back in his jacket pocket. "Y'r gonna freeze if you stay out here any longer."

Under normal circumstances, letting strange men call you towards them late at night was a death wish, but there was something deep in your gut that told you it was safe to trust him. Besides, anywhere had to be better than in an odorous alley behind a slimy bar.

You shuffled to your feet, gripping the threadbare blanket tighter around your shoulders. You were just about to outgrow it. The ragged edge barely touched the tops of your feet anymore. Despite the trusting feeling that had wedged itself in your mind, you kept one eye on the man as you hoisted your grimy backpack onto your shoulder.

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers, y’know," you said, cautiously getting closer to him.

"Yeah, well, you're also not supposed to be outside when it's 20 below."

You were now within arms reach of him. He lifted his arm out of his pocket, toward you. Instinctually, you flinched, using the backpack as a shield to cover you from any contact he might attempt.

"Relax, 'm not gonna hurt ya." He lifted his hand back in a surrendered position. "Just wanted to carry y'r pack for ya is all."

You peeked back around at him. Gingerly, you slid the backpack off your blanketed arm. You extended it to him, grip still secure on the strap. The man grabbed the other strap, but you didn't let go.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why’re you helping me?"

"'Cause I’mma bleedin' heart for the youth a tha nation, that's why," he retorted sarcastically.

You tugged the pack slightly back towards your chest. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand. Letting go of the strap, he stuffed both hands back into his pockets.

"Listen kid, y' remind me of someone 's all. I just wanna make sure you’re taken care of." He shrugged.

You stared at him silently, assessing him. Delicate flurries of snow started to fall from the sky. They nestled gently on the tips of his tufts creating a light blanket. The icy fluff reflected in the harsh streetlamp, mimicking a halo. You looked into his eyes. There was a genuine sincerity in them. That trusting feeling was pulling at your conscience again.

“‘Kay… but I’m watching you, old man.”

It wasn’t a joke, but he gave a little chuckle and shook his head, amused. He mumbled something under his breath you couldn’t quite make out. Something about ‘christ’ and ‘regrets’.

“Whatever y’say, bub. You’re the boss here.” He started walking off down the street, expecting you to follow suit. You shrugged the heavy bag back onto your shoulder and started after him, slightly trailing behind him, just beyond his reach.

“So what’s your name?” You asked.

“Logan,” he said simply, not even bothering to look behind his shoulder.

Logan. It was a surprisingly mundane name. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that.

“Just Logan?” If you were going to let the stranger lead you to an even stranger location, you should at least know his full name to give the police if things went south.

“Yeah. Kid, I don’t got all night. Get a move on.” He sounded annoyed.

But it was his fault you were tagging along in the first place, you thought. Whatever. 

You picked up the pace in a light trot to catch up with him, careful not to slide on the now-slick sidewalk. You were walking side-by-side with him now, but using up twice the effort to stay in step. Logan was tall, taking long strides to get to the unknown destination quickly. 

As you walked, you admired the frosty blanket beginning to layer the frozen city. Pale drifts of snow piling in corners glittered under bright street lamps, reflection shifting with every step. It may have been freezing, but even you had to admit, the untouched, pure snow was beautiful. The street was a silent beauty.

“So who is it?” You probed carefully.

“Hm? Who?”

“The person I remind you of. Who is it?”

“Oh, uh,” he started. “Her name’s Laura.” His voice softened at her name.

“Laura. Pretty. Is she your daughter?” Your intuition prompted you to ask.

“Yeah,” he replied shortly. Apparently, he was a man of few words. He let his head hang for a moment, watching his feet drag through the graying slurry. You watched as he inhaled sharply and lifted his head back up, staring straight ahead stoically, not paying you any mind.

The rest of the trip was made in freezing silence. You were still at his side, but slightly out of his arm’s reach. He was still a stranger, after all. It turned out his apartment building was only a few blocks from where you had been hunkered down. 

His keys jangled as he pulled them out of his pocket. The lock clicked open with a solid thunk. Warm, yellow light spilled out from the doorway onto the concrete steps and frozen metal railing. Logan gestured with his arm, prompting you to step in first. You didn’t like it when people stood where you couldn’t see them, but the comforting glow of the apartment was beckoning you in. He stepped through the threshold after you and shook out the snow that had nestled in his tufts of hair. They were starting to droop slightly as the snow melted in the warmth of his home.

He slipped his arms from his jacket and tossed it on a nearby table. You took in the space he called home. It was obvious that he lived here alone, a bachelor. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the plaid couch in the corner of the living room. Much like your blanket, it was becoming threadbare with pieces of stuffing starting to poke out from the arm rests. It was calling your weary, frozen name. You tore your eyes away to put together the rest of the space. A worn-in recliner propped toward a small television set, a coffee table covered in various newspapers, a few amber beer bottles and crushed aluminum cans. The space wasn’t grimy, just a little cluttered.

“Are y’hungry?” He was walking away, further into his home, toward the kitchen. You stood there, unmoving. It had been about three years since you had set foot in a nice, proper home. You were almost brought to tears.

“Yeah. Always.” 

Logan gave you a small smile and began pulling out ingredients.

You walked toward the kitchen, keeping your snow-crusted boots on and still bundled by your blanket and backpack. Though Logan’s home was exceptionally warmer than outside, the chill of the snow had taken root in your chest and had spread its way through your appendages. It would take you a while yet to thaw.

“How d’ya feel about grilled cheese?” The skillet was already warming on the stovetop and Logan had begun spreading butter across the two pieces of bread. Your mouth watered at the sight. The familiar pang of hunger ripped through your stomach. You almost wanted to tell him to nix the stove altogether so you could eat as soon as possible.

“I feel excellent about grilled cheese,” you said instead, gently tugging on one of the chairs at the small dining table. You sat cautiously on the edge of the seat. There were deep scratches gouged across the wooden tabletop. This was not typical wear and tear.

What on earth could have caused that? You wondered. Upon seeing the scratches, your over-active intuition strangely made you feel more at home. Apparently, there was more to this Logan guy than meets the eye.

He peeked at you from his peripheral vision, gauging your reaction to the gouges. You gave him a shrug. 

“Accidents happen,” you said, making yourself sink further back into the chair. You played it off as if the scratches were only a water ring made by an overly condensated glass sans coaster. Overcome with exhaustion and finally warming up, you decided to let yourself relax a little.

He smiled, like you had stumbled upon an inside joke he held only with himself. Though mostly humorous, the smile held a dash of contempt inside it.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

Not knowing what else to say, you took in the rest of the apartment. The windows were covered with yellowing slatted blinds, chips and cracks scattered throughout. The checkered linoleum floor probably hadn’t seen a mop for months. You couldn’t judge him too harshly though. In fact, you weren’t in a place to judge him at all. He led you off the street with pure intentions and into a warm home. 

The delicious smell emanating from the stove curled its way to you, tugging at your already-growling stomach. Logan reached into the skillet and flipped the sandwich with his bare hand. It was not a delicate pinch at the corners and he didn’t even wince or make any indication that the sandwich was hot at all. Strange.

“How’d you do that?” Your curiosity got the better of you.

“Magic.”

“Magic isn’t real. C’mon, tell me how you did it,” you begged.

“How ‘bout this,” he started. “Let’s make a deal. You ask a question, I ask a question. A trade off.”

You weighed the pros and cons. If the only exchange for satiating your curiosity was him prying into your own life, you came to the conclusion that it would be worth it.

You realized you were desperate for somebody to want to care about you. All you had known for the past few years was solidarity and seclusion. You had been in a constant state of fight or flight mode ever since running away from your parentless home. You just wanted somebody to want to look after you again.

“Okay, deal.”

“Great. I’ll start.” He set the plated sandwich down in front of you and took the other chair at the table. It creaked as he sat, as if it were straining every splinter to carry his weight. He certainly had a sturdy frame, but he was not by any means a big man. Strange again.

“Thanks,” you finished. It came out flatly, but you were genuinely grateful.

“Y’r welcome, kid.”

Careful so as not to scarf it down too quickly, you held the golden, crispy sandwich delicately between your dirty fingers, pulling it apart. The hot, gooey insides webbed between the pieces. Logan watched you take the first bite, letting you savor the first real meal you’d had in who knows how long before he asked his first question. It was cheesy, savory bliss. You could have cried, it was so tasty. It trailed warmth down your torso as you ate, taking bigger and faster bites. Before you knew it, you were licking your greasy fingers clean.

“Want another?” Logan asked.

“Yes please.” You were still starving. “Does that count as your question?” 

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Does that count as yours?” 

“Guess not.” You smiled back at him, sheepishly.

He took out two more pieces of bread and began on sandwich number two. You could tell he had done this before, taking care of young kids. He had a paternal instinct and it showed. He was slightly standoffish, but not so much that it was completely awkward. There was no ulterior motive behind his actions, you felt he just truly wanted to take care of you.

“‘Alright, bub. Why are y’on the street?”

You knew this question was coming, and yet your heart still skipped a beat, soaked with anxiety.

“I sort of ran away, but it’s not what you think.” You paused, seeing if he would interject. He didn’t make an attempt, so you continued. “I didn’t run away because I wanted to. I ran away because I had to. My parents disappeared and the police started coming around and I didn’t want to-”

“Hold on,” he cut you off. “Your parents disappeared and your bright idea was to run away? That’s probably the stupidest thing you coulda done.”

Embarrassment and annoyance prickled your cheeks. Logan was still a stranger to you, but you felt oddly compelled to defend your actions, to make him see your side.

“Yeah, well it’s better than being an orphan and forced into foster care. Placed with a family who couldn’t care less about you than the dirt on the ground!” You shot back.

The apartment was suddenly more than warm enough. It was almost sweltering. You twisted your shoulder out from under the strap of the backpack and shrugged off the blanket, letting it fall behind you. You felt a little dizzy as your heart pounded, loud against your chest. You were already weak from scraping together food all the time. Burning sweat began to bead against your hairline and coat your palms.

Logan turned his back to you, facing the stove. “Still seems stupid t’me. How long’ve ya been livin’ like this?” His voice was muffled, like cotton balls had been shoved in your ears. 

Suddenly, a chorus of pounding, pulsing sounds arose and started to drown out everything else. It surged to such a volume, you instinctually pressed your hands against your ears in an attempt to dampen it. It did nothing. The noise was inside your head. There was no stopping it. Your vision started to blur and you blinked hard, trying to rid the fuzz and dizziness with no avail. You opened your mouth to yell and felt the muscles in your throat move, but you couldn’t tell if any sound escaped. Your conscience was slipping, but the grip of the noise wouldn’t let you go. It was only getting louder, more painful. 

You must have made some kind of sound because a fuzzy, Logan-shaped form was moving toward you, seemingly in slow motion. You were slipping out of the seat in pain. He caught you in his muscled arms, right before your head hit the ground. He was yelling something at you, but you couldn’t make out what it was. His lips were moving desperately, his eyes frightened.

Logan was the last thing you saw before your mind surrendered to the stress of the noise, finally descending into unconsciousness.

Your eyes tried to open, fluttering against the bright, white lights on the ceiling. It was too bright to open them fully, but you adjusted fairly quickly. The room was made of sleek metal with a circular door on the opposite wall. It wasn’t a hospital, but it had the feeling of one. It was more unfamiliar and eerily quiet aside from a monitor’s steady beeping. The bed you were laying in looked like it came straight out of an exam room. You looked down at yourself. A tube was sticking out of the crook of your elbow, drips of a translucent liquid sliding into your veins.

The pounding noise in your head had ebbed to a dull ache instead of the throbbing pulse it was before. How much time had passed between Logan’s kitchen and now? Where was he? Had he just abandoned you in this strange room by yourself? You felt your heartbeat quicken in anxiety and as it did, the ache grew stronger. There must be a connection between the two. You had so many questions and nobody was around to answer them.

Just as you were about to start freaking out, the round door opened with a swoosh, the panels disappearing into either side of the wall. You sat up, startled. An older bald man in a wheelchair, a smartly-dressed woman with deep red hair, and the slightly-more-familiar Logan came into the room. The pounding noise and your heartbeat slowed back to normal at the sight of him, but three more louder, of sync beats took its place. The noise got louder as they got closer. Wincing, you wanted to cover your ears, to prepare for the worst. You didn’t want to pass out again or have to endure the painful drumming against your head.

“Ah, welcome back to the world of the conscious,” the bald man said, getting closer to you. His physical voice could barely be heard above the noise, but it somehow reverberated in your mind. “You gave our Logan quite a scare. That is a very difficult thing to do.” There was a small, almost imperceptible smile on his lips.

You looked to Logan. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, still in the same outfit you last saw him in. Dark denim, white undershirt, boots. Maybe hardly any time had passed at all.

“Thanks… what happened?” You asked the trio. Your voice was hoarse from sleep. You couldn’t tell how loud, or quiet, you were being.

The woman reached over to the side table and poured a glass of water for you. Her face was beautiful and kind. She smiled sweetly at you. You took the cool glass from her and let the water soothe your throat.

“Your mutation began to manifest and you passed out,” she explained. Her lips were moving, but like the man, her voice echoed in your head, quieting the thrumming in your ears. “We aren’t quite sure what power your mutation will present itself as yet, but whatever it is, we’re here to help you.”

You looked from her to Logan, confused. The slight scowl on his face wasn’t encouraging.

“Where am I?”

“My dear, you are at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. I am Professor Charles Xavier and this is Jean Grey. Logan very wisely brought you here last night,” the man in the wheelchair said. “To our lab.”

Your eyes flickered between the strangers. The familiar feeling crept back into your gut. Your intuition told you he was telling the truth.

“If you’ll let me,” he continued with a soft smile. “I would like to utilize my mutation for your benefit. Jean and I are telepaths. I can enter your mind which might help us deduce what exactly your mutation is.”

No wonder you could hear their voices echoing in your head over the clashing, thrumming rhythms. They were projecting them into your mind.

You must have looked uneasy, because Jean placed a hand on your gown-covered shoulder, attempting to reassure you.

“It doesn’t hurt, but you will feel his presence in your mind. We just want to help you,” she said.

Again, you looked to Logan, anxious for his reassurance. Upon catching your eyes, his expression softened and he nodded slightly, giving you the go-ahead to let them help you.

You fiddled with the top sheet, nervous. It crinkled under your touch. Only hours ago you had been trying to survive the freezing temperatures alone in the dark.

They were all looking at you, expectantly. Without Jean or the Professor in your mind, the volume of the beats returned, still discordant with one another.

“Okay,” you agreed, meekly. You did not want a repeat of what happened last night. The pain was too much to bear again.

You watched the Professor close his eyes. He knit his brows together, slightly, in concentration. There was a mental push in your mind, like somebody was knocking on the door, asking to be let in. You obliged. As he began combing through the files of your brain, searching for answers to whatever your new-found ‘mutation’ might hold, you noticed one of the rhythms sped up a hair quicker. Logan’s scowl returned, eyes laced with concern.

Jean was right, it didn’t hurt, but it did feel a bit like an intrusion. However, you knew it was all for your benefit and would be for the best in the long run. You kept your eyes on Charles Xavier the entire time, hoping your own concentration on him would be helpful in some way. After a few, long, minutes, the Professor retreated from your mind and opened his eyes again.

“Well, my dear, it seems you have a mental ability as well,” he began. “You have the ability to hear heartbeats that are in close proximity to yourself, and in turn deduce the intentions of another person.”

“That’s what the pounding is? Heartbeats?”

“You can hear all three of ours currently, correct?” he asked.

“Yes.” For some reason, it felt like you were violating their privacy. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and your hands returned to folding the sheets between your fingers.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, you know. You’re special. Like us,” Jean said, smiling gently. She grabbed a metal clipboard with complicated-looking charts attached to it, flipping over the pages until she found the form she was looking for. She took the pen from behind her ear and jotted something down. You assumed it was a description of your ‘mutation’, or ‘power’, or whatever they call it.

“Why is this happening to me?” You asked quietly into the air, to nobody in particular. Your eyes were still trained on your nervous fingers. The burning in your face grew stronger, an angry red. Hot tears stung your waterline and the tip of your nose prickled with emotion.

Logan unfolded his arms, causing you to watch him through tear-filled vision cross the room and sit on the edge of your unfamiliar bed. His heartbeat grew louder as he got closer. You could see his lips moving, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. He looked at you expectantly, but all you could do was look at the Professor, silently asking for help. You watched him say something to Logan, probably telling him you couldn’t hear anything over the constant noise in your mind. The Professor closed his eyes again and again, the rhythms quieted to a hush. You looked back to Logan, the Professor still concentrating.

“You’re a mutant, kid. Simple as that,” he said, eyes full of tender but resolved concern. “But ‘m gonna take care of ya. Make sure y’r comfortable here.”

“H-here?” Your teary eyes went wide, your own heart speeding up anxiously. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna attend the school here with Jean an’ the Professor an’ me. You’ll learn how’da not let your power control you.”

“You’re a mutant too?”

“Especially him,” Jean cut in.

Logan gave her an irritated look, but raised both fists in front of his face. In a split second, long, metal claws shot out from between his knuckles into the open. You gasped. He carefully brought them down, letting you inspect them. You lightly pressed a delicate finger against the tip of one of the claws. It was freezing cold and razor sharp. A scarlet drop of blood fell from your fingerprint, staining the sterile sheet. He retracted the claws and you watched as the slits quickly stitched themselves back together.

It suddenly all became too much. The tears involuntarily spilled down your pink cheeks, overcome with the developments. Mutations, telepaths, claws … nothing made sense anymore. 

The quiet sobs wracked your small frame and as the emotions overtook you, the thrumming rhythms returned, making it all so much worse. Logan pulled you into his arms in a tight hug, pressing your head to his chest. His loud heartbeat was steady and strong. Reliable and solid. It overpowered everybody else’s rhythms, drowning them out. He let your tears soak through his once-pristine undershirt as you processed everything, his thumbs smoothing circles against your covered shoulder blades. You tried to focus on his grounding touch, tried to bring the tears to a halt. After what felt like an eternity, they finally slowed.

Finally, you pulled away from him. His heartbeat was still the only one you could hear. You looked around the metal room, swiping at your eyes. It was empty except for you and Logan. Jean and the Professor must have left some time ago, but you hadn’t heard their heartbeats soften.

He let go of you completely and picked up the chart Jean had been holding. He quickly scribbled something and flipped it to face you. ‘Feel better?’ he wrote.

You smiled and nodded, almost laughing at his solution to communication.

“Thank you, Logan,” you said. He only smiled in response, knowing you couldn’t hear him. “Now what?”

He held up a finger, asking for a moment, and reached toward the side table. He picked up a device that looked like a small disk, a couple inches thick. Pulling on either side revealed a metal wire that retracted back into the device when the disks were brought together again. The insides of the disks had padding in them. He brought it around behind your head and placed either end over your ears. 

Silence. Quiet. Peace.

You let out a sigh of relief. Logan’s pounding heartbeat was brought down to a manageable pulse. Even the rushing sound of the air conditioner and low hum of the electricity flowing through the lightbulbs couldn’t be heard anymore.

“Better?” He asked. 

You heard him! His voice was no longer fighting to be heard amongst the drum of his heartbeat. It was loud and clear. You burst into a smile.

“Yes,” you said, reaching back across the bed, wrapping your arms around his neck enthusiastically. He almost lost his balance against your grateful hug.

“C’mon, let’s go find Charles. Y’r gonna love it here.”

You let Logan lead you out of the lab and into the unknown for the second time in twenty-four hours. But this time it was different. You now knew that the trusting, gut-feeling you had about him was your mutation sensing his intentions all along. You knew he was going to make sure you were taken care of and continue to do so long into the future. It’s just the kind of man he is. The caregiver, the protector. He’s Logan.

[lazywrites]

Midnight hour

Kurt Wagnerx reader (3.5k) a fix-it fic of sorts

You had always admired Kurt, admired his bravery and kindness even in the face of terrible obstacles, in a world that has never required you to prove yourself you must pay the price someday, Genosha's midnight hour has arrived.

A chilling whisper on the Wind, your gift was never apparent to the naked eye and it will never be, not in any way that matters.

In this world you are the only thing that matters, it seems, the clock will never strike it’s midnight hour for you, and you know it, did the others know? did he know? That this beautiful place could become hell in just a few moments or better yet, just one moment.

11:58PM

Your happy nation. It was never meant to be.

Something’s off

And it takes you forever to notice, forever, you could stay here forever.

That is your gift, eternity, once upon a time the man your friends called "the professor" came to you, he knew you were a mutant, only he and you could tell for some reason. Your mutation was never apparent, no moving objects with your mind, no extra appendages and no deadly rays coming from your hands or eyes, nothing.

It was in your 16th birthday that you realized then, the day of your birth, the day of your parent’s death, both of them in one fell swoop and you thought that you were about to join them but you were still there, suspended, mid-crash.

That is your mutation, time is always by your side, your only ally after your parents died and before Kurt came along to change your mind, Kurt was never priviledged like you, many would say he got the short end of the stick on his mutation while you were able to live normally, blissfully ignorant of the trials mutants faced, and you regret it now, regret of not even thinking of putting your gift to good use before. You could’ve stopped this, if time were truly on your side.

But i’ts not.

Something’s off

You should by all means be dead, the sentinel’s deadly ray would’ve reduced you to dust, but it didn’t and it never will, still it doesn’t mean it won’t hurt, it hurts and blisters your skin like nothing you’ve ever felt before and still you won’t die, you’ll live, The timemaker demands it. And these poor people, Madelyne, Dazzler, Anna, Katie and poor Kurt, you hope he’s made it or that he’ll make it before you get out. You stay suspended for a few moments, mid explosion, frozen, like a painting on some rich person’s wall, one with a penchant for tragedy that is, before you summon the willpower to actually get your feet on the ground and run towards the exit by the dancefloor, you see Anna and try to pull her with you, so heavy, like a stone in your arms when you try to pull her away, she’ll make it, she’s Strong.

You see Madelyne for the last time that day, you cannot save her, it would be like pulling the Mona Lisa out of its painting with your bare hands, impossible, every time you try to put your hands on anyone at that tragic scene, a chill runs through you like the timemaker himself telling you no, its a dreadful sensation that shocks you every time.

You don’t see Kurt, The first time you’ve seen him was not on genosha, it was a long time ago while you were still wandering the Earth and doing reckless things just to test yourself, you weren’t scared for yourself but he was, he saved you, saved you from even needing to start using your gift that day regardless of the possibility of you hating him just for being how he is, but you could never hate him, you loved him, loved him for having an open heart in spite of what this world did to him, he said things would be better for you both on Genosha and you believed him like always, and now look at you, Goddamit. But you still looked for him, looked until you found him on that crumbling rooftop and making your way down again, he wasn’t hit, Thank God.

His prayers really pay off more often than not.

So now you’re out, you see the terrible mechanical beast still howling after firing off that first shot, and you feel the Wind, hear the whistle all around you and see those poor souls reaching out to the sky for the last time. You stand and just observe it, powerless, your head feels like a terrible weight on your body.

Kurt is there to pull you away towards the rooftop garden, he’s always thinking of you first, that sweet fool.

"Liebling, you’re okay! you are..." Kurt’s concerned gaze is on you even before the trip is done to the rooftop, but then oddly enough he pulls away and takes a step back "what have they done to you? What is this?" You don’t feel hurt, you were hurting under the sentinel’s ray but now, nothing, until you look down and see yourself on the left side, skin partially peeled off around the charred remains of your prettiest dress and on the rest of your body a slightly green hue, as if the sentinel has corrupted you somehow, time’s twisted painting.

"I’ll be fine, go! Save as many as you can!" He’s still looking at you, hesitating, hands up as he’s about to touch you but can’t, reminds you of Rogue that way, these two can be birds of a feather sometimes "Go Kurt, they need you" these few seconds feel like hours to you, as happy as you are that he’s okay, hesitance will only bring regret.

"Go, we’ll save what we can" that’s when you see Remy waving and jogging in the direction of you both "go be a hero".

He glances at you one last time before disappearing in a cloud and leaving you in the care of Remy, But tonight you can see it, something in him has changed and he’s more Gambit than Remy right now.

"How many are there?" you turn back and meet him halfway, Gambit’s dark stare meets yours and he just shakes his head, already defeated "too many to count"

The ground shakes once that thing fires again, like some terrible and repulsive insect crawling around your home and destroying everything in its path, you feel the Wind and the world is peaceful once more, at least for you as you run your hands over your left arm, it’s as smooth as it’s ever been, the dress too is back to how it was. Like none of it has ever happened, you are still untouched by the carnage.

So you can go out there, that’s your conclusion. All the years wasting away wondering what you could have done with yourself, whispered confessions to your lover under the sheets of how you wanted to be more like him, brave and kind like his X-men friends, and Kurt always knew what to say, you might have not saved anyone physically he said, but you’ve saved him, saved him from his loneliness, he’s the best of them in your eyes, and this time you will be more like him. You turn back to Gambit, frozen, of course. But you’re not dying, far from it, you’re supposed to be dead, but now more alive than ever.

You reach out to him and the sentinel fires again before Kurt rolls back into the Garden, it’s devastating to see him like this but you somehow know he is alive, blistered, bruised and bleeding but still alive, there are others kneeling right by your side, Gambit and Magneto together with Rogue. They’re speaking but you don’t hear a thing over the ringing in your ears.

Your wedding was a simple affair, too simple, neither of you had any desire to share it with others, at a monestary’s chapel under the moonlight you and Kurt said your vows and you promised to keep him in your heart for the rest of your life, if you could choose a gift it would be that, to make it so your lover would be safe tucked away right between your palms, in your kiss, in your heart.

Perhaps it is true that Magneto was right, you never paid him much mind, never had any problems of that sort due to being so ordinary, and his reputation was never positive with Kurt anyway, but that’s the phrase you heard on the streets "Magneto was right" even the children were saying it, and this was the reason.

If anyone can figure out how to stop this thing it’s you, you can feel it in your bones, as many times as it fires at you it won’t kill you anyway, and the pain of it burning your skin is nothing compared to the pain of your regret.

"Save as many as you can, we shall not live our days wondering if we could have saved more!" And its your turn to say Magneto’s right, it didn’t take any convincing from you for Gambit to let you go with him, he’s seen you heal like your burns were nothing, and you both nod at each other before mounting the bike.

The streets are more than chaotic, Genosha is truly hell on Earth for you at this moment but There is only one escape, and its not for you.

Rogue and Gambit are there, brilliant, so much you wonder how is it possible that you don’t see them in the News every day, how can the X-men be so underrated for a lack of better word? They’ve saved the world countless times, Kurt has told you so, but seeing it with your own eyes is a whole other story, you have always lived in a world where the word “hero” is used every day like it’s mundane, but they are as heroic as you've imagine them to be, they ARE heroes, and you are unsure if you could ever measure up to that.

The effect of the rays the smaller Sentinels shoot at your people are unsubtle to say the least, death, quick but not painless death, this is what the X-men have been fighting every day, painful fiery death given two legs and a horrific voice. It’s coming towards you, and you see it, Gambit’s hair is no longer blowing back with the Wind, you know what you should do, what you are meant to do. That thing would have hit Gambit before it got to you, if you hadn’t reached out your hand in front of him.

You know what you should do, its centimeters from your hand and it will hit you before erasing Remy from existence in a fiery blast.

You know what to do, and you will, this is your gift.

You reach out.

The timemaker demands it. Doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

It consumes you, until you’re nothing, fearless but still burning.

The moment lasts forever until

"Holy, i’m... Gambit’ll make sure to avoid it mon ami, that does not look like it’s any fun" and it’s so like him to joke about this situation, it brings you back. The Wind is cool and soothing against your body and you can almost forget all about it, the only reminder of your ‘’death’’ is the tremble and rattle of your skeleton, like the sentinel’s energy is still coursing through your body.

“It’s fine, i’ll be fine” You avoid Rogue’s concerned stare, she averts her gaze from Magneto for a moment to look back at you "We’ll just have to keep that one from the furball, i reckon’ he’d be freaking out about it right now" and it’s a good idea, you might have even answered it, but Magneto crashes through another building and redirects all your attention back to the fight between him and the sentinel, between him and Genosha’s doom.

You know you should be looking for the Morlocks, that is the whole reason you are here, to take away their pain if needed. But all the destruction is disorienting.

Magneto beats it over and over again, he’s pulling on anything and everything he can, you can see the sentinel bend but not break. And the moment just stretches on and on before Gambit runs out of the building with those kids. And after that, well, its all over.

"OMEGA LEVEL THREAT DETECTED"

You step back violently like you could somehow run away from yourself, all of your body trembles in horror, disgust, the Sentinel’s terrible face turned towards you, towards all of you standing on the rubble of what used the be a nice and cozy plaza, You, Rogue, Gambit and the civillians, Magneto faces the thing, that skull, no mouth, empty eyes. You know its him, and you know he won’t resist for long.

If you could, you’d run, you’d save him. But you are just you, not a hero yet just someone who tries, a fledgeling barely out of the nest, and you are no match for the vacuum of Wind the clash between these two produce, so you just stand behind Gambit and Rogue, Stand and watch as Anna tries to save her former lover, and how the man who loves her saves her.

"Don’t you dare Erik, you hear me?" Rogue’s voice has never sounded so sad for as long as you’ve known her, your friend, she knows what’ll happen, to Erik and the others around him.

"He’s trying to protect us, Rogue." Gambit defends, even he knows that as troublesome as Magneto could be he held many others in his heart, at that moment he regrets hating the man, he can see Magneto as Erik for the first time, vulnerable, trying.

And you, you’re not in any danger, this moment does not belong to you.

Rogue breaks out of your metal cocoon, not like it would have been difficult considering its maker is gone, and Gambit goes after her as always.

As that thing turns back, you hate it, an uncontrollable urge squeezed your throat so tight you could barely breathe, an imperious desire of beating it, of breaking that face and killing that atrocious reverse of everything good.

It turns back towars the Garden, Kurt is there, your love and your friend. Your other friends as well. Your whole life, everything that’s left of you is there.

You see Gambit, you know what he can do.

You turn to him, and hold out your hand "Anything to wager on?" Remy has always been a fast thinker, its how he survives, he knows the right thing to do to keep himself at those he cares about safe, even in a situation like this he rarely slips up, he knew loving Rogue was the right thing to do from the very beginning, even if it cost him. He knew coming to Genosha was the right thing to do, he could’ve been fine on the X manor, but he is here now, and he is needed, Gambit knows what you mean, it’s terrifying, he’s never done it to another person, it’s a death sentence as far as he knows.

“Are you sure it’s what you want? Chér... this might not even work”

“Look at it Remy, we don’t have a choice, if the cards are truly in your favour, then wager that it'll work" And you’ve never really stopped to look at his eyes, they are truly something else, a gift just as special as him, you can see the hesitance, hesitance will eventually become regret.

He fixes his gaze on you, only you for the first time in the night.

“We have to Remy, we have to"

And reaches out to you.

“Gambit see your bet, and raise it” He holds you hand in a firm grip and you feel it, the heat and energy coursing through you are something else entirely.

“It’s...” Destructive, even more than that sentinel’s death ray, but it is also light, a pink and warm light, you never truly stopped to make much conversation with Gambit, its not like you see each other every day, but he is a friend to you at that moment, and you trust him.

And he trusts you.

He lets go of your hand, and you feel overwhelmed, more than in your whole life your body’s limits are tested, and time slows down to nothing, there is no melody and no whistle.

Even then it doesn’t stop, your brain feels like it could vibrate out of your skull.

You take off then, you know even someone with your gift can’t hold it in forever, you run faster than you’ve ever run before thanks to Remy, thanks to Rogue and Magneto, and to your Love, your Kurt, You would never be here if it weren’t for him.

Your heart beats fast, and you conjure up a memory, it needs to be a good one to work.

You leap up towards that impossible goliath, so so high, it’s terrifying and your heart is beating so fast. Are you going to die? Without even saying Goodbye? And is it going to be Worth it?

You’re flying, for the very first time you’re flying by yourself, your whole body feels electric, bathed in light and about to burst, and it most likely will. The sentinel has no way of reacting to you.

You must be facing it directly, but you don’t even see it, time is frozen and yet it passes by you so fast, it’s time. Gambit’s stronger than you, and his power causes strange effects you cannot describe on your body, its death, it’ll surely end up killing you at some point.

11:59PM

“CAUSE THE CARDS ALWAYS BE IN MY FAVOUR!” you hear him, and this time they are.

Gambit and rogue look up at you, you would only hear of this moment days later, Rogue had tried to fly after you when she realized, but of course, you were moving too fast for her to ever hope to catch up, they didn’t see you, only a vague silhouette emiting a warm light that bathed the ruins of your former home, like a powerful shooting star you leaped towards your goal and then, you were burning out like a real star. They held each other and watched, it felt right, might have been twisted at the time but it truly did feel right for them to be together at that moment, they knew you'd consider that a good thing.

You and Kurt spent a good part of your time together observing the stars, in the dark of the night, just the two of you no matter how cold it was, sometimes you’d both be surprised by snow or rain and Kurt would always just shrug it off and give you his coat, of course, not everyone is fuzzy like him you’d say. That’s the moment you think about, not the death and destruction, but the perfect nights spent with the perfect man.

His confession to you under the stars, it hadn’t been too long after fate had you two meet in a starry night just like this one, this was supposed to be a perfect night, and yet you had barely seen him today. He was so good to you, your hero, even before you got to know him as nightcrawler he had made a point to save you from being mugged, you knew it was a possibility walking around all by yourself, but the moment that mugger even thought about shooting, you’d disappear from his sight, not by just walking out of the alley while time was frozen, but by being pulled away by Kurt.

He had expected you to freak out and run, or to be scared or angered at him but you weren’t, you could have been, but something about him just captivated you, must have been love at first sight. And the moment you stretched out on the grass and invited him to stargaze with you, he was captivated as well.

Once for the explosion. Twice for the fall.

You are buried beneath the rubble where Goliath has fallen, takes a few hours to find you even with Anna digging around the rubble for any trace of you and Remy praying that he hasn’t killed you. Its dawn already and a crowd is forming around the crater formed by the fallen sentinel, the survivors all whispering among themselves trying to understand what is it that took that thing out, the first answer of course, its that it was the X-men, but Kurt is more concerned about your whereabouts, he’s been searching desperately from the moment he recovered consciousness, it took a while for him to find anyone who had even registered that they’ve seen you, but they told him you had been with Rogue and Gambit, and there they were, But no you.

He stands there for a minute, hesitating again, if he approached them he might just have to hear that his worst fear had come true, or not, you could be somewhere else...

Kurt swallows the lump in his throat and approaches the edge of the crater where Rogue is digging around the rubble, looking for something, or rather someone.

And then she unearths the stone right above you, she studies the state of your dress before anything, that’s what Remy has told her to look out for, he’s seen how that dress had been reconstructed a few times whenever you took any damage, It’s in a mostly acceptable state, just dirty from the rubble, no blood to be seen, and then she studies your face next and you’re smiling at her.

You reach out your hand, to your sister in law, she smiles back at you for a moment, and shakes her head. You've gambled and won.

I'll be the first to admit i didn't have much of an idea on how to end it, maybe i'll continue it sometime, i have a few ideas for a reunion with Kurt, this was a request by @please-ignore-me-in-general and @weebwholovesuchihasasuke so i hope they enjoy it even a little bit.