#But it happens to Scott TO WHICH HE HAD NO CONTROL OVER and suddenly it's 'he totally did it'

[th3-c0ll3ct3r]

Scott haters be like: "I saw him make a joke. But I took it seriously so I hate him. But the joke about Grian absolutely hating Jimmy's guts? A joke. Clearly. But Scott? Nahhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

OR

"I choose to believe out of context/misinformation about him over doing my own research. Therefore I hate him because I blindly believed someone the Internet."

[rosenclaws]

Jinx (or 5 times you mess things up in front of Logan and 1 time you don't) || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: You bring bad luck and have all your life and when you meet Logan you expect him to react the same way everyone has. To your shock he doesn't. That doesn't stop you from making a fool of yourself in front of him though. Many. Many times.

warnings: flirty logan, swearing, reader has mutant fire powers, fighting, logan has ptsd in water, he lashes out bc of it, possible ooc but idc, fighting, injury, comfort, blood, explosions

wc: 5k

a/n: Okay so I fucking LOVE arcane and I thought about a fic where the reader is like Jinx in the sense of she just has really bad luck all the time. She also has fire powers because I think they're cool and after that one drabble I wanted to do more with it. This is my longest fic so I hope you like it!!!

The First meeting

You might be the first mutant with a nickname that is more of an insult than a call sign. It started when you arrived here. Just a teenager looking for a place to call home. The mansion was that home and you loved every second of it. Your fire wielding powers were dangerous but exciting and with the help of the teachers you sort of learned how to train them.

But for some reason you didn't get some cool fire nickname you got stuck with Jinx. It's not your fault that bad things just happen around you. Really. You don't do anything to cause them on purpose but the bad luck seems to just follow you where ever you go.

You got the nickname after you managed to break the fountain. Seriously though how can that be so fragile. All you did was kick a soccer ball and you might have taken its head off.

Bad things just seemed to happen over and over again. You might have set fire to some curtains. Or the carpet. Or smashed a vase or two.

Even when you graduated and became a teacher things just happened. Missing papers, breaking pencils, the ceiling caves in because a family of fat racoons decided to make their home there. Things that were out of your control just happened.

So they called you Jinx. Was it lovingly? Maybe.

No one has kicked you out yet so that's a good sign. They do tend to avoid standing too close to you though. Which honestly is for the best.

It was a commotion in the main lobby that catches your attention today. The sound of a gruff voice peaks your interest. Peering into the room you see Rogue and Storm talking to a man.

"It's good to see you Logan." Oh! Wolverine.

You missed his first stop by the mansion. You were off doing something else for Charles when he was brought here originally and you were supposed to fly back to help as usual. You flight got canceled due to weather. So by the time you came back he had already gone.

You heard Rouge gossiping with the other students about him. She mentioned he was handsome but fuck he was even better than you thought.

You lean forward a little more and end up losing your balance and falling flat on your face. The three of them look at you and you wave, trying to save yourself some embarrassment. You can see Logan looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Jinx! Come meet Logan." Rogue calls you over and you stand up. Brushing yourself off as you walk over.

"Nice to meet you Logan." You hold out your hand but he just looks at it.

"Jinx?" He says instead. A smirk on his face as he speaks.

"It's a nickname, don't you have one too Wolverine?" He chuckles and you have hope that you're charming enough. Most of the time something really unlucky happens when you meet someone for the first time.

"Will I see you around Jinx?" If you didn't know better you'd say he was flirting.

He steps closer to you and you stumble back in surprise. He's intimidating with his broad shoulders and animal like grin. You let out a small scream as you trip on your feet and fall backwards. Right into Scott. Scott falls like a domino and you hear a crack.

"Scott! Are you okay?!" You rush to his side but suddenly a beam of energy shoots through his eyes.

You feel someone grab your arm and pull you away from him. Ducking your head as the beam shoots into the door. Scott closes his eyes but the damage is already done. The front doors of the beautiful mansion were destroyed. Everyone waits in silence as Charles appears from his office holding an extra pair of glasses for Scott.

"I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to bump into you." Apologies tumble out of your mouth as Scott fixes his new glasses.

"Don't worry about it, It was an accident Jinx." He places a hand on your shoulder and smiles but you can tell you fucked up. Again. You smile back but it falls once he leaves.

"I'm sorry about your door Professor." You mumble as you look at the destruction.

"It's alright, we'll get it fixed." You slowly walk off, letting people asses the damage.

You pass by Logan who watches you as you slink back to your room. You had hoped that maybe you could have gotten to know Logan before he found out how you got your nickname.

So much for first impressions.

2. In the kitchen

The next time you encounter Logan is in the kitchen. Despite your inherent unluckiness you still loved to cook. Sure you had cuts and burns from all your attempts but your dishes ended up pretty good. You're making a stew this time. Band aids are already on some of your fingers as you stir the pot.

"Smells good." You let out a scream as you drop the spoon into the soup. The fridge opens up and you see Logan rummaging through the shelves.

"Beer's behind the peas." You mumble as you try and fish out the spoon.

"Ow!" You hiss as you burn yourself again.

The hot metal spoon burned your hand. Logan watches as you put your hand under the sink and put some cold water on it.

"Ironic I know, the mutant with fire powers burns herself when cooking." You mutter catching his amused look.

He walks over and takes your hand, pressing his cold beer to the small burn. You sigh as the cold drink sends relief through your hand. You get a better look at Logan like this.

He's just dressed in jeans and a tank top. His muscles are practically bulging through the already stretchy fabric. He's got this dangerous aura around him that makes you hesitant at first. Not to mention the whispers about him. How violent he could be, the things he’s done. Everything he’s been through. But you didn’t care.

"So is Jinx because your clumsy?" He asks as he checks on your burn.

"Kind of, more like unlucky things just seem to happen to me I guess." Your eyes are focused on where Logan's hand is holding your wrist.

His hands are rough but his touch feels so nice. His grip is firm but not enough to hurt you. The fact that he's even helping you is bizarre. Anyone else would just chalk it up to you and let you deal with it yourself.

"I'm surprised you haven't run for the hills yet. You know, the first day you meet me I end up destroying the door." To your surprise Logan laughs.

"Technically Scott destroyed the door." He counters.

"Yeah well I broke his glasses." You take your hand away from his beer and turn your attention back to the soup.

For some reason Logan doesn't leave. He watches you as you cook and you like the company. You tense as you feel him get closer to you. His chest almost against your back as he peers over your shoulder. He's so close. You take a wooden spoon this time and stir the soup. Lifting a little bit to your lips.

"Can I have a taste?" Logan asks.

You turn your head to find his face incredibly close to yours. Really close. So close that you can barely focus on anything other than his lips. You don't notice the burner getting more intense as all your focus is on Logan.

"Shit!" Logan hisses as the soup practically explodes all over the kitchen. Soup splatters every possible place including your clothes. Making a massive mess.

"Dammit!" You turn down the burner and see if there's anything left you can salvage but there's nothing. You must have caused the burner to go haywire.

"I'm sorry Logan." You say defeatedly as you wipe soup from your forehead. Logan takes his thumb and wipes the soup off your cheek.

"Tasty." He says as he licks his thumb. He doesn’t break eye contact. Enjoying the effect he’s having on you.

You stand with your mouth open as he walks off like he didn't just do that. The flames on the burner get bigger once again and you turn it off. You grab the roll of paper towels and start to clean.

The faint touch of Logan's thumb still on your mind.

3. In the garage

After your kitchen disaster you found yourself wandering the mansion instead. It had been a couple weeks but you decided to avoid the kitchen for now. Now you had too much free time on your hands. That's how you ended up here, in the garage. Except this time it was you who found Logan. He was working on his motorcycle. Shirtless. Okay that's totally normal right? You think to yourself as you sit and watch.

"When did you learn how to ride?" You ask as you watch him screw in something to somewhere, you don't know too much about motorcycles.

"Long time ago." He answers gruffly as he wipes his forehead with a rag.

"Like ten, twenty, a million years ago?" Logan chuckles and stands up. Your eyes trace the veins on his arms as he puts his hands on his hips.

"More like a hundred." He sits on his bike and turns it on. He's double checking everything and notices you looking in awe.

"You ever ridden before?" He asks and you shake your head.

"Alright then come here." He gestures for you to get on and you perk up. He gets off and holds the handle bars, letting you get on. You're extra careful. This bike looked expensive and Logan had just spent hours working on it. The last thing you wanted to do was jinx things. Again.

"Woah." You giggle as you run your hands along the smooth metal.

"So you put one foot here and the other stays on the floor." He guides you gently and you do as he says. You place your hands next to his on the handlebars.

"When I was a kid I this bike. It was purple with a basket in the front." You tell him. You loved that bike. Rode it whenever you could. You had the bruises to prove it from the amount of times you fell off.

"I rode it into a bush once. Got these bumps all over my skin." Logan takes his hands off the bike leaving just you holding it up.

"Well it's no purple bike, but I can take you on a ride one day. There's this diner about twenty minute away if you’re interested.” He offers. You grin and tighten your grip on the handles.

"Sounds like you're asking me on a date." You say boldly.

Before Logan could say anything there's a loud bang. Backfire from something but it scares the hell out of you. Without thinking you heat up the bike and jump off of it. Logan tries to grab it but the handles burn his hand. You watch in horror as it falls on its side. You try to stop it but it only ends up landing on your foot.

"Fuck!" You grab your foot as pain shoots through your body. That thing is heavy. Logan clutches his hand for a second before the burn heals. He picks up the bike and kicks the stand open so it can stay up on its own. Your eyes brim with tears when you see the dirty and scratches that have ruined the newly cleaned shiny metal.

"Logan I'm so sorry." He sighs and walks over to you.

"Your foot okay?" It hurts but it's not broken. You try to set it down but you can't. The pain is too much. You try to hide it but he sees right through you.

"Let's get you to the lab." You try to protest but he doesn't listen. Helping you out of the garage and to the lab. Ignoring the fact that you just caused him even more trouble. As you get patched up he leaves. You hang your head low as you think of a way to make it up to him.

Later that night Logan can't sleep. The nightmares don’t let him. So he makes his way back down to the garage. He needs to start over on fixing his bike anyways. As he approaches the door be notices the lights already on. To his surprise he finds you there. Fast asleep with your head on a chair.

You're body is uncomfortably kneeling on the ground. Your foot is wrapped and there's crutches leaning against the wall. There's rags and wax sitting by your side and his bike looks brand new. He kneels down and shakes you awake.

"Hey there sweetheart." He says as you open your eyes.

You mumble something incoherent and shut your eyes. Logan bends down and picks you up in his arms. He carries you back to your bed laying a blanket over you as you melt into your pillows. He elevates your foot before he leaves. People may call you a Jinx but you've got a heart of gold. He goes back to the garage and cleans up everything, making a mental note to take you on that date when you're foot is better.

4. Ice Skating

It took a month for your foot to finally heal up. Broken no, fractured, yes. It was a pain trying to get around on crutches but Logan ended being your own personal transportation. He would help you get down the stairs, reach the high shelf, drive you to the store. Whatever you needed he was there.

He even took you to that diner. Sharing a milkshake and cheese fries. He looked past your nickname, sure he called you Jinx but when he did it felt sweeter. He had seen your unluckiness first hand and yet he still chooses to be by your side. It was all you ever wanted.

Sure you had friends at the mansion but you could tell they thought of you as a small burden, a nuisance. They were still kind to you but you always saw their faces when something went wrong. With Logan there was none of that. He embraced every part of you. Now with your foot all healed and the winter starting to settle over the mansion you were all clear for winter activities.

Your favorite one being ice skating. A large pond was the perfect place for you and some of the kids to go. Logan had tagged along but only did so because you begged him to go. Pretty please with a cherry on top was enough to get him to chaperone.

You skated along with some of the kids. Others had set up an ice hockey game. It was pure childhood joy. Something that these kids didn't get all the time. Logan was sitting on a bench by the edge of the pond just watching. You skated over and put your hands on your hips.

"Come on Logan, you can't just come to the lake and not skate." You whine. He raises an eyebrow and stays put on that bench.

"I don't do skating sweetheart, or lakes."

"Ten minutes, just ten minutes and I'll leave you alone." You pout and clasp your hands together. He stares at you for a moment before relenting.

"Fine." You let out a happy cheer as he laces up the pair of skates you got for him. You hold out your hands as Logan struggles to balance on the skates.

"See, you're a natural." Logan wobbles and lets out a string of curses as he tries to walk on ice.

"Shut up." He says with no bite in his voice.

Your fingers interlock with his hand as you start slow. This was hell for Logan but seeing your smile made it worth it. You skate around the lake with him, laughing when he glares at the kids who laugh at him. Seeing him so out of his element was funny.

"Okay that's it I'm done." He grunts out as you come to a stop near the middle of the lake.

"Thank you for trying." You know he's not really having fun but it meant a lot he was willing to even get on the ice for you.

"Teacher! Jinx!" A loud cry comes from the kids. You gasp as you notice the ice starting to crack. You made sure the ice was thick enough. You triple checked how could this be happening. You see Logan start to panic so you take action.

"Everyone stay calm!" You yell out.

"If you can make it off now then do it. If you're too far away then I need you to get on your stomach and spread your legs out. Then slowly crawl to the edge. Anyone who is off the lake help pull others to safety." You stay as calm as you can as you make sure everyone is safe. To your relief the ice stays intact as the kids make it off. Now it's just you and Logan. There's fear in his eyes as the cracking gets louder.

"We need to do the same thing Logan. It's going to be okay." The two of you get onto your stomachs and army crawl towards the edge. A student with super speed has already gone to get help thank goodness.

"Fuck." Logan panics as the ice starts to give way. You grab his hand as he starts to freeze.

"It's okay it's okay." You're close to the edge but not close enough.

You yelp as the ice breaks and both of you plunge into the water. You try to keep your grip onto Logan but he's sinking fast. The water is bringing back horrible, horrible memories as he struggles to breathe. Your head barely bobs above the surface as you see familiar faces running towards you.

Water fills your lungs as you scream when Logan's claws nick your arm. He plunges them into the dirt. Trying to pull himself up and out. Your body is becoming numb and every movement hurts. A pair of hands drag you out of the water. You cough violently as you grip onto the frozen grass. Trying to catch your breath. Logan's eyes are wide as he does the same.

"Are you okay?" You reach out to him but he snaps.

"Don't touch me!" He snarls and your heart plummets. His eyes are unfamiliar as his teeth bare like an animal. For the first time since you've met him he's angry with you. Really fucking angry.

"I'm sorry I..."

"I'm sorry Logan, I didn't mean to scratch your bike, I didn't mean to explode the fucking soup. Is that all you can say?!" He shoves off the people trying to help and stands up. His face cold and unforgiving as he looks down on your shivering body.

"You really are a fucking Jinx." You let out a sob as Logan walks away.

A fluffy blanket feels like ice against your skin as you're ushered back to the mansion. You hear Storm trying to talk to you but everything sounds like white noise. Your heart is stomped and crushed right in front of your eyes and you can't even blame him.

You're nothing but bad luck.

5. On a mission

There's no more accidents around the mansion anymore. Probably because you've locked yourself away since the ice skating incident. With the school on a break you didn't need to teach so all you did was stay in your room. Only leaving in the dead of night.

You just couldn't face the mansion anymore. You were embarrassed, upset, and heartbroken. Logan was supposed to be different. You wanted things to be different with him but apparently the universe decided you can have nothing good. It was only a matter of time before he saw the truth. His words repeat in your head over and over.

The anger, the fear. You caused that. Students and teachers alike would stop by your door but no one could get you out of your room. Sometimes you swear you hear the sound of his boots outside of your door. But he just stands there and then he leaves.

You can't cause any more problems if you stay here. Only issues for yourself and that's okay. Professor Xavier would pop into your head every now and then just to check up on you but this time what he needed was urgent.

The moment you walked through his office doors you could feel everyone's eyes on you. Especially a certain someone's who’s brooding in the corner of the room. Even with everyone here he's just overwhelming. You keep yours forward, not sparing a glance to him or to anyone.

"Thank you for joining us." Charles smiles warmly.

Apparently there's a mission and they need your help. Why they would send you out there you don't know. The targets had a fire mutant too and the best way to fight fire is with, well with more fire. The moment you stepped on the jet you could feel the nerves.

Everyone was worried something would go wrong with you around. Keeping your eyes glued to the ground you take a seat as far away from everyone as possible. Counting your fingers over and over as you wait to land. Someone makes there way over to you, their boots are oh so familiar.

"Hey." You look up to see Logan. He's holding onto the seat next to you for dear life.

"Don't worry I'm not gonna touch anything." You mumble as you try and somehow make yourself smaller.

"Listen I just wanted to talk." The plane jolts and Logan slams his fist against the wall. He freezes up again, fear creeping up onto his face. Just like on that frozen lake.

"We're hitting some turbulence. Logan you need to sit down." Scott commands.

Logan's lips turn into a growl but he sits down anyway. His hands clutching the armrests of the chair. Apart of you wants to go and comfort him but you would probably just make things worse. So you close your eyes and wait for it to be over. The turbulence calms and eventually the jet lands with everything and everyone unharmed.

The goal was to shutdown a group of mutant hunters and rescue their victims. The worst part was they had mutants on their side too. Good money you guessed. It shouldn't be too hard of a mission but knowing yourself anything could go wrong. You followed the team in, fighting with everything you had.

Logan had stuck by your side since you got here. Keeping his distance but always watching you. His super senses and metal claws made him their number one target. Suppress the Wolverine. They were no match for him though. But Logan's focus seemed to wane as they sent more people after him. A mutant who could make copies of himself did their best to confuse and take Logan down.

"Watch out!" You shout and Logan dodges another attack.

However you get shoved to the ground before you can say anything else. You send a blast of fire at your attacker but they wave it off. So this is the other mutant. The two of you become locked in combat. Fire meeting fire with no clear winner. It isn't until Jean’s voice shouts through your comms that you find the upper hand. They had found the kids and were bringing them back to the ship. It was a losing battle and you think the hunters were staring to realize that. Calling for a retreat.

You can't let them get away. If they get away then all of this is for nothing. They'll rebuild, they'll hurt more people. You notice a gas tank nearby by their vehicle. You were always good at making things explode. Usually on accident but fuck it, might as well try on purpose now.

"Get to safety and get out of here!" You run past the team as you chase after the retreating foes.

"Where the hell are you going?!" Logan calls as he helps a kid get onto the jet.

You ignore him, running as fast as you can. Just one big blast should get that thing exploding. God this was so stupid but its the only thing you can think of. You fucked up the door, you made a mess of the kitchen, you hurt Logan. All you do is ruin things. You're a Jinx and for once you can try and do something good. Even if it kills you.

As the car starts to drive past you channel all your power and launch it at the gas tank. For a second its like everything is in slow motion. You hear Logan roar, turning back only to see him running towards you. Suddenly everything gets really hot and then.

Nothing.

In the medbay

The first thing you feel when you can finally feel things again was how uncomfortable you were. An itchy blanket, itchy arms. Your back hurt and your head was killing you. When you opened your eyes all you see are the bandages wrapped around your arms and legs.

There were cards and flowers sitting on your bedside table and to your left was Logan. He's got his feet up on your bed and he was squished into a chair. His head bowed and his arms crossed. You try to sit up but start to wheeze. The heart monitor starts to beep wildly and Logan jolts awake.

"Sit back down." He pushes you back onto the bed and you try and breathe. After a little bit your heart rate steadies and Logan seems to calm down.

"What happened?" You ask and Logan clenches his jaw.

"You blew yourself up that's what fucking happened." Your memories were slowly getting pieced together.

"I blew up the gas tank. I wanted to stop them from escaping." You say as you recount what led you to the hospital bed.

"Well you stopped them and then almost killed yourself in the process. You had severe burns, a concussion, you were bleeding everywhere. I picked you up in my arms and you were coated in blood." He growls.

The words I'm sorry almost fall out of your mouth but you remember what Logan said that day on the lake. If you're being honest you aren't sorry either. You did what you thought you had to do.

"I'm a Jinx Logan. You said it yourself. I used my destruction to help this time." Logan winces when you remind him of his harsh words.

He wasn't in the right state of mind when he said them. Flashbacks of drowning, of the pain he went through. Being submerged in water and sinking were usually the scenes of his nightmares and for it to happen in real life. It was awful. But that doesn't change the fact he lashed out, he hurt you.

"I was wrong. I shouldn't have said that." Logan gently brushes the bandages on your arms. The scar from when he cut your arm in the lake peeks out from your bandages. He let his fear get the best of him in the water.

"I've hurt a lot of people, sometimes on purpose. Sometimes on accident.” His eyes never leaving your scar. “You’re not a Jinx. You’re perfect.”

"I still make a mess." Logan cups your face and studies a stitched up wound on your forehead.

God when that gas tank exploded. Even he was blown back by the force. He ran to your still body. Ash and pieces of metal were scattered across the field. You're lucky you didn't get fucking impaled. Your body was limp. Dirt and blood caked your face so much that he couldn't tell where you were hurt.

He carried you back to the jet, your blood staining his suit as he laid you down. He listened for your heartbeat for a second he swore it stopped. The longest second of his life as he waited to hear that soft beating.

"Why are you still here?" You just don't understand. How he can be sitting here after everything you've done. All the problems you caused.

"A little mess isn't gonna scare me sweetheart, I like your mess. I like you." He tilts your chin up and kisses you. You're taken by surprise but it's certainly welcome as your eyes flutter closed.

The heart rate monitor starts to beep faster as Logan leans over you. Your fingers rake through his hair as you pull him closer. Logan's grip tightens on the hospital bed railing. He's too lost in the taste of your lips to notice. You tug on his hair and his claws shoot out, cutting one of your IV wires.

A loud beeping blares through the room as Logan jumps back from you. You cover your mouth and laugh. Not even in your sweetest moments can you catch a break. Logan sheaths his claws and shakes his head in disbelief, joining in your laughter.

Jean rushes in with a panicked look on your face. It morphs into confusion when she sees the two of you laughing as your IV drips to the ground. She quickly fixes your IV and gives both of you a scolding for not letting anyone know you were awake.

"Keep your hands and claws to yourself. I'll be back later Jinx." She eyes Logan who puts his hands up. Smirking at you as she leaves.

"You know we could call you something else." Logan suggests. You think for a while before shaking your head.

"I think I like it." It reminds you of your faults yes but this has something that's followed you for the longest time.

You supposedly bring bad luck but you can try and counteract it every day by doing something nice. Plus maybe with Logan your luck might turn around. Maybe. As long as you steer clear of any lakes.

"Alright, but I think sweetheart has a nice ring to it." He says with a grin.

"Oh you want everyone to call me sweetheart?" You tease. Logan leans over and kisses you again.

"No. Only I get to call you that." Bad luck you may bring but Logan doesn't care.

You're a Jinx but you're his jinx and he loves every part of you. The good and the bad. So what's a little bad luck? If it means he gets to be yours then he'd happily be your lucky charm for the rest of your lives.

[exoticb-utters]

Hello!

So I saw that your requests were open, and would like to ask for a Hank McCoy (Wolverine and the X-Men) x Reader short story, if that isn't too much trouble. If that's not on the table, I'm sorry for bothering you.

YES OFC, I haven’t been writing much, and instead, I’ve been posting a lot more art so it’s about time I get back in touch with my roots 🙏🏽 (sorry this took me forever omg) pls enjoy 😘

Confessions

Hank x Mutant Reader Word Count: 2.7k Words

Mutant Power: Water Manipulation

You’ve been a member of the X-men for the last 3 years. Yes, that’s almost 3 years you’ve had a crush on Henry McCoy. 

I mean, how could you not? He was so sweet, and always put aside time for you whenever you needed it. He’s also, like, insanely hot…

While you do have a huge soft spot for Hank, everyone had given you a warm welcome when you joined of course, this team was your family. More of a family than your parents; who called you a freak for doing ‘tricks’ with their drinks.

You’d make frequent trips to the lab, knowing all too well there would be a big blue hermit waiting for you. As you did this, Hank could never bring himself to admit the embarrassing fact- but your frequent visits were the highlights of his day.

The rest of the team were amazing family to him of course, but no one checked in or visited Hank as often as you did.

Most of the time anyone usually ever came down was if they needed something; nothing this personal. It was new, but it was nice for a change. 

Your jokes with him never got old, and your smile that came with it could only make it better. The willingness you had to sit around and let him rant about the latest experiment that had him losing sleep, to even offer a hand with whatever he was struggling with. Your innocent praises glorifying how smart he was had him hiding his growing blush by looking behind a microscope. 

“I’m afraid blue blushes too, my dear…” He would joke, causing you to smile and chuckle. Ugh who loves a hot, funny nerd. You’d chuckle to yourself. 

Oh who was he kidding, Hank was head over heels. While he tries to use his brain to rationally sugar coat things, he knew he was helpless. 

Your attention to detail was incredible, you somehow remember all of his favorite things without fail. You were just so…thoughtful. 

He couldn’t help but feel a bit selfish, wanting more than your visits down to his lab, the long talks, your presence. He was going crazy.

Then, every night you’d find yourself laying awake in your thoughts, knowing he couldn’t possibly feel the same.

You’d never put your friendship on the line for something so…selfish. 

The thought ate away at your conscious, the numbing sound of your fan tuned out by your busy mind. You sigh, rolling over to your side while pulling your blanket with you. 

You don’t know why you were like this.

You and Hank are…friends. Which is fine- even though it hurts. You are fine with it, and you’ve been fine for the past 3 years.

…for the most part anyway. 

♡ ♡ ♡

You were now hanging out with Hank in his lab, legs dangling over the edge as you talked to each other. Something about a new opera showing happening in town.

Suddenly, you hear Xavier telepathically call for the rest of the X-Men to meet him in the control room, suited up. Must be a mission.

You were informed the Jaggernaut had escaped custody, again.

All X-Men that were on stand-by were now assigned on this task. The team consisted of you, Hank, Cyclops, Jean, Wolverine, Nightcrawler, and of course Storm. Stacked team if you say so yourself.

Everyone was in the Blackbird with the sole goal of neutralizing the Jaggernaut before he caused severe harm. 

Cyclops was put in charge, giving direct orders as he looked to you and Ororo. “I need you and Storm to direct him towards us, we need to keep him separated from civilians. Meaning I need a tall wall of water, Storm you freeze it making sure he won’t be able to get through.” 

You both looked to one another with nod. Scott then turns around to Hank who was piloting the jet. “Hank you go with them and watch from above and make sure things don’t get to out of hand. If they do we need your strength to counter-attack.” 

Hank replies with a “on it” before tilting the jet to left, bringing the stealth instrument closer to the designated location. 

“Logan you’re taking the wheel while those three get dropped down. Everyone else is with me.” Scott said finally while Hank clicked some buttons before switching with Logan. The bottom hatch of the plane opened up, allowing you, Storm, and Beast to exit. 

Storm flew to her position in the air, leaving you and Hank free falling towards the ground. Hank turned to look at you expectantly, blue hair blowing wildly in the wind. 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” You chuckle. You outstretched your arms towards a nearby pond you spotted earlier. Pulling your hands back to your chest in a stream-like manner, a large funnel of water shot out towards you and Hank. 

You grabbed Hank’s arm as the funnel reached you, changing the water into a shape similar to a slide with your free hand. You surfed down the water, holding onto Hank making sure he kept up- and knowing him, it was also preventing him from falling off.

As you neared the ground, you spun the water into a wide spiral to slow down your momentum for an easy landing. 

“I’m still impressed you can do that with your hands.” Hank comments as you reach the ground, earning an amused huff from you. “Well it took some practice,” You trail off, your eyes now looking at his crazy wind blown hair. 

“Actually, I’m more impressed your hair can take that shape…” You snort, biting on ur fist to hold in your laugh. It looked like he had an insane cowlick…well, maybe if the cow had 4 tongues.

“…what?” He said before quickly bringing up a hand to his hair. While he was busy fixing his crazed hair, you spot Storm flying over.

“I’ve located the Juggernaut, he’s down the street!” She briefly informs you before taking off, flying further down the street. 

“Right right, back to business.” You say, waving an arm around yourself to recollect your water. Hank takes off, leaping after Ororo as you ride your stream of water. 

You hear loud commotion around your surroundings the further you went, hopefully you arrived in time. You spot the Juggernaut on the street, wildly flipping cars as if he were in a mad rampage. One was now launched and flying in midair- towards you, specifically.  

You expertly weave around it, spinning upside down in doing so. Before he can flip anymore cars you jump, using all surrounding water to form a wall as Scott instructed. 

You hear a crack of thunder overhead as you land, the air chilling and the clouds growing darker. With a strong gust of wind, the walls you made froze over. You see Storm fly into view along with the rest of the X-Men behind you.

Beast jumps onto a light post, swinging on the end before propelling himself onto the large wall of ice.

The Juggernaut’s actions were now solely limited to facing the X-Men head on. Realizing this, he began charging with full force towards the rest of the team.

“Get his helmet off!!” Cyclops orders before bringing two fingers to his visor, firing off his laser beams.

Night Crawler bamfs around the brute, landing on his shoulders for brief moments, attempting to unlatch the dome.

You shape your water into a whip, ready to attack if the villain closes in. You see Storm raise her hands, calling down thunder as lightning begins to target the Jaggernaut.

You even see Jean pressing her temple with two fingers, using her telepathy with the other outstretched hand to slow down the pursuer.

He wavered just barely under her prowess, the strong bolts only slowing him down slightly before Wolverine decides it’s time he steps in.

With a growl, Logan leaps towards him with his adimantium claws extended before being swatted away by the Juggernaut’s large hand.

Not a moment later he grabs onto Nightcrawler and tosses him aside as well, throwing him on top of Wolverine.

The X-Men were losing options, and fast.

You had to do something.

You swing your water whip from underneath the Juggernaught before quickly whipping it back against his head, effectively tripping him and causing him to topple toward.

Before he could regain his footing completely, you call back all your water to blast him with as much force as you could muster.

And…It was working! He was regressing in distance.

…Until he took a step.

And then another.

And another.

It wasn't long before he began fully charging toward you.

Your concentrated expression quickly fell to one filled with fear and disbelief. “Watch out!” You heard Jean, Scott, and Cyclops warn in unison.

Their cries were all in vain, a large hand splashing out of the water had taken hold of your face. You felt your feet lift off the ground as you were directly dangling in the air, at the mercy of an unstoppable force. In this position, the Jaggernaught could easily crush your skull if he so pleased.

“I will find Xavier. And I will make him pay.” The brute speaks as his grip on your head steadily tightens, your chest burning as you screamed in sheer horror at the increasing pressure.

From above, Hank was almost hesitant to give away his position as the others before you attacked- he knew they could hold their own. But watching you face the Juggernaught head-on…Seeing how your life was in such jeopardy, hearing your screams, Hank had no second thoughts about intervening and saving you.

With a distant roar, you hear Beast come down on the Juggernaut. He releases you, but at the cost of you falling; and of course- hitting your head on the pavement.

Your head began pounding, ears ringing as the corners of your vision grew fuzzy with dark spots. All you could see was a flurry of blue viciously wrestling with a large brownish blob. More figures rushed into the picture before a redhead precluded your vision, concern written all over her face.

“Stay with me! Don’t close your eyes and just listen to my voice…“ Her words began to fade out as the black dots in your vision clouded the world around you.

Your head rolled to the side, your closing eyes finding the blue figure before your heavy eyelids inevitably shut.

Hank.

♡ ♡ ♡

You slowly awoke to a steady beeping of a monitor nearby, your eyes softly fluttering open. Looking up to the ceiling, you recognized it as the flat cement ceiling of Hank’s Lab.

Before you could get up, you felt the intense throbbing pain coming from the back of your head. Had you really hit your head that hard?

Well if it had knocked you clean out it must’ve been…

“You’re awake!” You hear a familiar voice call out to your right. It wasn’t long before a blue face came into view, blocking the blinding glare of the overhead fluorescent lights.

“How are you feeling?!?” Your vision slowly focused in on the figure in front of you. “Good…I think.” You slowly sit up, rubbing the back of your head tenderly.

You notice you had an IV inserted into your right forearm. Without another thought you removed it, ready to go…to wherever you were needed.

“Woah, there- you should slow down it’s been…a bit and you're still recovering.” Hank warns, grabbing your wrist to keep you from moving any further.

You looked to his face…he was worried??? “Hank, I’m fine! See?” You said reassuringly; though, Hank himself didn’t find himself too convinced.

“Hey, what are you so worried about?” You ask, brows drawn together hoping to get a straight answer out of him.

He was worried about you, obviously. You suffered several traumatic head injuries within a short span of time! If you had not been a mutant…he didn’t even want to think of the possible outcomes of that situation.

Hank sighed heavily, organizing his racing thoughts. “I thought I’d lost you.” He managed to drag out.

Huh?

Scared??

That he lost...YOU?!?

“Hank, I think I’ve suffered greater injuries. You should know this.” You say with a small laugh before quickly stopping, his solemn expression instantly killing your attempt to lighten the mood.

His large hands grab your wrists firmly. “You have been out for a month.” His words shook you, so much so that you found yourself shaking your head in disbelief.

You hadn’t been out for longer than a day, right?

Hank must’ve sensed your reluctancy to believe your current situation because he started again. “You suffered several fractures to your skull, luckily, nothing broken or opposing threats to your brain. Unfortunately the stress your skull took on added with the hard contact of the ground practically split your head open.” He explained, running a hand down his tired face.

You hadn’t realized this had happened. “But I’m…I’m okay now, aren’t I?” You ask hesitantly, raising a hand up carefully to the back of your head. You felt stitches, running up the back of your head. Your stomach dropped.

“I performed an emergency medical procedure…which I won’t go into details with you so soon…” He sighed heavily once again, plopping down in his wheeled office chair.

“I hadn’t realized…” You quietly trailed off while fidgeting with your fingers out of nervous habit.

Hadn’t realized what? How bad the situation was? How worried the other X-Men must be? How much Hank went through to make sure you were well?!?

“Please, it isn’t your fault. If anything, this situation has made me realize something…” Now it was Hank’s turn to dramatically pause, his head in his large, blue hands.

“What? What is it?” You ask nervously, fearing your health was in critical condition at this point.

He grabbed you by the shoulders once again, looking into your eyes deeply, “Because…because I fear I’m falling in love with you.”

You stared in utter shock. Had you heard him correctly? He feels the same way?!?

“I-I want to come home to you, to kiss you like it’s been eons since I last saw your face. I need you safe, I don’t know how I’ll live with myself if you aren’t-” You didn’t need to hear anymore. 

You grabbed him by his lab coat, pulling him into you as your lips pressed together in a flurry of passion.

He held onto you, hungrily chasing after your lips as he poured all the love he’d helplessly held in for so long.

Your hands slowly slid up his broad chest and towards his neck, finding themselves tangled in his soft hair. “Hank” You sighed against his lips, the kiss ripping all oxygen from your lungs and leaving you breathless in the process.

He groans into your mouth in response, his tongue running against your bottom lip, silently begging for access.

Your heated ‘session’ was abruptly cut short by the lab door sliding open. Hank shot up, nearly taking a tumble trying to remove himself from you- to avoid any suspicion of…previous actions of course.

Though, the scene didn’t look too convincing; seeing how Hank’s glasses laid crooked on his face and his hair was well tussled. You had to cover your giggle at his appearance.

It was Morph, Cyclops, and Logan. They all start laughing, causing the rest of the X-men to come in, groaning in defeat.

“Woah, woah- were all of you just standing outside the door?!?” Hank exclaimed.

“Pay up, daddy’s waiting.” Logan holds out a hand expectantly towards the other X-Men, a smirk displayed across his face while completely ignoring Hank.

“I knew I should’ve bet with Logan.” Rogue mumbles, fishing out money from her pockets along with the rest of the team.

Oh yes. This was only the beginning of a long, beautiful (and heavily teased) relationship with Hank.

I hope you enjoyed this cute little one-shot! ;)

If you want more like this or want something written, please hit up my ask box! Requests are always open 💕 Until next time🫡🫡

-Mae

[idontknowreallywhy]

Following in his footsteps

a.k.a. How to Infuriate Your Engineer

Finished this idea off on the commute so apologies for typos, clumsy wording and for inconsistencies in the sounds Brains stutters on…

It’s a bit of a mystery as to why Scott, the first born, was named after the 4th of the Mercury Seven whose flight and piloting decisions were somewhat controversial and left him in conflict with flight control (sound familiar?). Anyway I find myself intrigued by that particular 1960’s flyboy, particularly as to one thing he did 1/3 of the way through his trip with his fuel running low…

✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️

“S-SCOTT C-C-CARPENTER TRACY!!!”

John later confirmed that this was indeed the first time in Tracy history that Brains ever been apoplectic enough to middle name any of them. His ire was usually quiet and dry, with occasional sarcasm. Every so often some non-vital but comfort-providing item might be removed from a Thunderbird for “essential maintenance”… the cushioning of One’s pilot seat, the power supply to Two’s coffee machine…

But generally, after more than a decade living with the Tracys, their long-suffering engineer had cultivated the talent of providing emotionally restrained feedback. Albeit there was good reason MAX was unable to mimic the phrases that were muttered over mangled landing gear, flooded engines, overstrained thrusters and the like.

This Wednesday morning, however, something had clearly pushed him over the edge.

“What did you doooo?” Alan hissed in alarm and was immediately shushed by a heavily frowning Virgil, whose fingers appeared unable to release the unfortunately tense chord he’d just leaned into. John’s hologram popped up looking serious. Even Gordon looked incredibly uncomfortable.

From the guilt-ridden look on Scott’s face, he could think of least three reasons his neck might be on the block this morning.

A tightly wound ball of fury approached the seating area and the speed with which International Rescue’s commander leapt from the couch betrayed his initial instinct to bolt from the room and never stop running. However, decades of experience of facing the music from many and varied sources meant his feet remained firmly rooted to the floor, while the rest of his body sought the security of parade rest.

Brains stood in front of him vibrating with rage. The ends of MAX’s arms were positioned at an approximation of where the robot’s hips might be. The room held its breath. Virgil’s foot remained wedged against the sustain pedal. The melodramatic chord continued reverberating around the lounge.

The engineer suddenly raised a hand and everyone flinched. Had their friend finally resorted to violence?

Scott closed his eyes and awaited whatever engineering justice was deemed merited for… whatever it was he had done.

But the shorter man’s movement as he reached up to Scott’s face was slow, deliberate and with a slight frown of concentration he stuck a 75mm square of blue duct tape precisely in the middle of Scott’s forehead.

Virgil jaw dropped and his foot finally slipped off the pedal. The dampers clunked back into place, allowing an ominous silence to reign for a few moments.

The colour coded rolls of multi-purpose tape included within each baldric was one of Brains’ affectionate little thematic touches but also acted as a crude fingerprint… blue tape could only ever have been used by one person.

The Commander’s eyebrows twitched almost audibly as he tried to puzzle out the strange sensation but his eyes remained screwed shut.

When Brains spoke it was barely more than a whisper and the brothers in the room found themselves leaning in. The brother in space appeared to have located a bucket of popcorn.

“D-do you h-happen, to know how l-long I have spent p-perfecting One’s fuel reserve s-system, S-Scott?”

Scott swallowed, hard, and opened his eyes again.

“Quite a long time?”

“Yes.”

“Ahh, did I ever thank you? I should have, I’m very sorry - thank you for that and for all your work, Brains. It really is appreciated.”

“Is it?”

“Of course!”

“Hmmm.”

Scott opened his mouth again but, accepting that his attempt to divert the conversation had failed, clearly thought better of digging any deeper until the nature of the situation became more clearly defined.

Brains’ hand lifted for a second time, another square of blue tape delicately held between thumb and forefinger. This was placed with some care on the very tip of Scott’s nose.

Alan snorted. Gordon punched him in the arm and was elbowed back. Virgil glared them into silence then nearly lost control himself at the sight of his elder brother going cross eyed in an attempt to establish what on earth he was being decorated with.

Brains spun on his heel to face the rest and they all leaned back hurriedly, feigning casual interest. Nobody wanted to appear to be aware of, to be accidentally associated with whatever crime it was Scott had committed.

“Th-thunderbird One uses t-two fuels but h-has th-th-three fuel tanks. As you all know, th-the balance of fuel t-to achieve m-maximum speed is p-precisely c-calculated and th-the system that g-governs it is h-highly sophisticated.”

Everyone nodded except Scott who was trying and failing to pretend he was unbothered by the additions to his face. His nose twitched compulsively.

“D-due to certain t-tendencies of her p-rimary p-p-pilot, One h-has a reserve t-tank. Th-that blend of fuel w-will not achieve the h-highest speeds b-but will ensure she is able t-to return h-home if a SENSIBLE…” the word was ground out as if it was painful “…speed is m-maintained.”

Brains paused. Every eye in the room shifted to Scott. Max bleeped, judgementally. Brains continued, his voice deadly calm and deeply terrifying for it.

“T-to ensure One’s p-pilot d-does not m-miss the fuel status w-warnings amongst th-the p-p-plethora of information on the h-holographic display I installed th-three LED bulbs t-to m-make it QU-QUITE CLEAR w-when l-levels w-were running low and w-when speed n-needed t-to be m-m-m-moderated in order t-to avoid d-damage t-to her supply p-p-p-p-pipeline a-a-a-and e-en-en-engines!”

Brains’ veneer of calm was cracking and Scott, who had clearly solved the mystery, appeared to be chewing through the inside of his face. Brains spun back to face the object of his wrath. MAX’s mechanical eyes narrowed.

“W-warning l-lights are only effective w-when th-they are v-visible!”

Scott gulped and fell back on the only defence he had left - he gave his old friend a dimpled half-grin and a doomed attempt at mitigation:

“They were a little… distracting?”

“D-distracting.”

The full stop was potent and echoed around them. Brains appeared on the edge of an eruption the like of which Tracy Island had never seen, even when the volcano was active. But he mastered himself and produced a final square of tape which he held in front of Scott’s face for a moment before slapping it down on to the top of his head, rubbing it slightly to ensnare as much perfectly styled hair as possible before storming from the room.

MAX remained just long enough to shake a medium-weight hydro-spanner with extreme prejudice before flouncing impressively and trundling after his master.

Alan and Gordon clung to each other, faces contorted with silent mirth. Virgil caught John’s eye then cleared his throat and appeared about to speak before being forestalled by his Commander’s raised palm.

Lacking a little of his usual gravitas due to the tape fluttering gently in the huffed breath from his nose, Scott still poured every ounce of authority he had left into an order of three short syllables:

“Not. A. Word.”

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Yandere Jean and Scott X Men Evolution and Jean's little sibling who can control blood (even if it's inside of someone else)

Aaaawwwww! Those two are so cute! And you bet those two are overprotective. Let's try this out:

It seemed the mutant gene was part of her family. Jean knew this because her little sibling was here, dropped off by their parents, and grinning up at her.

"Hey, Jeannie-Bean. How've you been?" they ask, pulling their suitcase a little closer to their legs. Their skin seems to be a bit pale and ashen, as though they had anemia or had lost some blood.

"I could ask the same about you. What happened, Reader?" She's worried, especially since her parents didn't say what your mutation was or what they think might have brought it to the surface.

"I'm fine... I, uh... Had a small accident. But I'm okay! I can, just... kinda control blood, is all," you mumble. And your older sister stares at you... Then is looking you over, calling for someone inside the large mansion.

"SCOTT! Get out here! I need someone to help make sure they aren't hurt anywhere!"

A voice answers her, and suddenly the tallest person you've ever seen steps out, and is standing next to Jean, looking down at you, his eyes obscured by red glasses. "Oh... Um... hi?"

"Hi."

"Scott! Help me make sure they're okay!"

"Jean, I'm fine! I can control blood! Anything that was there is barely scabbed over, if not just a scar by now!" you yelp, pulling yourself back a bit. You look up at the tall teen, and at her tall friend. "So... you're Scott."

"Um... yes?"

"Jean talks about you a lot. You're a good guy. Keep being good to her, or else I'll slow your blood pressure," you say, then walk into the large building. "How big is this place?!"

"I... that's your sibling?"

"Yes! They're pretty cute, aren't they?"

"Yes... Did... did they say how their power showed up?"

"No," Jean replies. She's worried about that, too, but, her sibling isn't going to say what happened if they think it will upset her.

"We can find out later. Okay, let's help them get settled," Scott decides, and then the two are going after Reader, hoping to show them everything they can about the Institute.

Scott finds that he likes Jean's sibling. A LOT.

They're funny, they care about others, and whenever someone gets hurt, they help control the blood flow so there is minimal bruising and damage. They're a nice kid. That being said-

They wanted to tell him something.

"I, um... Scott. You and Jean are friends, right?"

"Yeah... What's up? Is something wrong?" he asks carefully.

"No... Yes... I... I wanted to tell you how i... kickstarted my powers..."

And that explains why they're so nervous.

"Why not tell Jean? She's your sibling, she'd help you through it," he offers, trying to comfort them with that.

"Yeah. That's the point. She worries, Scott. She worries so much, and I just- I can't keep adding to that worry. She's got so much going on, and I just- I can't bring her down," they answer quietly. A few tears start to leak from their eyes, and they sniffle quietly.

"I- I had an accident. A really, really bad accident Scott. There were bullies, an-and police, and there was s-so much blood... I- I th-tho-thought I was gonna die, Scott," they cried, then without hesitation start bawling.

Scott does the only thing he can think of and holds them, rocking them back and forth the way Jean would do with him or Kitty or Kurt when they were upset. "That's it, kid, just let it out... You're okay, you'll be okay..." He isn't sure how long they stay like that, him holding Reader while they cry their heart out. And it all makes sense now.

This kid really is special, aren't they?

Jean sees the good, loving nature in them, the way they smile and soldier on, the way they try not to hold grudges, how they do their best to make her and others smile and feel loved-

But they also need all of that, too. Given and given in spades.

Later on, he tells Jean about what her sibling told him, which ends in them holding each other as they try not to cry.

They make a promise to each other. A few, actually.

"If anything happens to me, Scott... I want- I need you to take care of them. Please," she whispers, a tear rolling down her cheek. He wipes it off with a gentle touch, giving her a small kiss.

"I will, Jean. We'll both do it, together. Please, please help me keep them safe. Please let me help you watch out for them," he says, and his answer is a short sob and nod.

They know they're both scared. That for as strong as they are, for as strong as Reader is, that there is only so much they can do. But with what they can do, with what power they have, they will do everything to keep them safe, to keep them loved and cared for. It's a promise, and not one they intend to break.

"I think we can have a movie night with them... They love those," Jean adds after awhile, and the two share a watery grin. They'll do what they can, starting with making some popcorn and getting Reader up to watch some of their favorite movies with them.

[whats-she-gonna-post-next]

You take requests for Flower Husbands votes, right? Can I ask for a Flower Husbands ‘Drabble’ as you put it in your reblog? /nf

Hello, hi, yes, sorry this took so long! As an apology, have 1.5k words!

This was... originally going to be a lot angstier, then it was going to be way worse. Then I settled on this, which I will call a hopeful ending.

-

Scott never liked the idea of soulmates. The idea that someone out there is predetermined to be perfect just for him? Yeah right. Scott knew first hand what happened when soulmates weren't meant for each other, he knew how easily resentment for being trapped could foster anger, knew what happened to broken dreams and shattered promises. After all, he bore the scars to prove it.

He remembered sitting among shattered glass and splintered wood at eight years old, staring at the bloodstained skin of his ribs that hid freshly inscribed poppy red words and deciding then and there that they didn't matter. He would never meet his soulmate.

He would not turn into his parents.

-

Going to college was a breath of fresh air. Scott had worked his ass off all through high school, getting good grades, doing volunteer work, immersing himself in extra curriculars, all to insure he could get as many scholarships as possible, moving across the country to Empire Univeristy to get a fresh start. It was nice, being our from under his parents, able to do things he wouldn't have risked back home for fear of upsetting his parents. He decided to study theatre, he dyed his hair a bright cyan, he stayed out late, he drank, he made friends, went to parties.

It was at one of these parties where Scott's problems started.

-

Scott was a drink and a half deep when Skizz - an upperclassmen in Scott's program and the parties host - called for his attention.

"Smajor! Come here!" Skizz's voice was boisterous and excited, and with anyone else Scott would have assumed they were drunk, but he knew better. Skizz was just like that, and he never drank more than maybe one drink over the course of the night when he was hosting, "I wanna introduce you to someone."

Scott slid over to Skizz, smiling at the cute blond by his side who looked a little out of place.

"Ah! Perfect!" Skizz's excitement was contagious, "Scott, this is Jimmy. Top's taken him under his wing, since they're both in the architecture program, and I figured since you're both first years you could bond over that and the fact that youd been stollen by upperclassmen in your programs."

Scott laughed at his words, wasn't that just like Skizz, trying to make everyone comfortable. Turning back to the blond, he held out his hand, "Hey, how are you finding things?"

Scott had gotten introductions down to a science, always careful to keep his words generic and simple, something that could be said by anyone in any sort of situation.

"I’m pretending to be sociable, how about you?" It takes every ounce of self-control and theater training Scott has in order to not react. He knows it wasn't the case, but he swore for a moment, his hip burned.

Choking out a laugh, Scott gave him a nonsense answer, ignoring the slightly crestfallen look on Jimmy's face, and continuing on his night.

So what if his soulmate was at his college. It was a big campus. He'd probably never see him after this party.

-

Scott was wrong about that.

Suddenly it seemed like Jimmy was everywhere. Skizz hadn't been lying about Tango having taken Jimmy under his wing, and since Scott hung out with Skizz a lot, and Skizz and his soulmate Impulse was best friends with Tango, Jimmy started cropping up at a lot of their hangouts.

Not that Scott could bring himself to truly be upset. Jimmy, as it turned out, was lovely to be around. He was kind without effort, and funny, even when he didn't mean to be. He was entirely endearing, never pushing if Scott seemed to be uncomfortable, and always backing off when he realized he hit a boundary of some sort.

Scott never planned to like Jimmy, but somehow he and his sweet brown eyes wormed their way past Scott's defenses, and he figured he could live with being friends.

It's not like there would be any escalating from there.

-

Scott really ought to stop making assumptions when it came to Jimmy.

At a new years party hosted by Tango in their second years of uni, Jimmy asked Scott out.

"I really like you," He had said, words dripping with honey and a hint of vodka, "I like the way you laugh, the was you always seem to be two steps ahead, your eye for detail, and the way you light up when you are on stage."

And Scott, with a slightly rye tinged look on life at that moment, had agree.

"I like you too," the words weren't a lie, but they almost burned like one, "your sweet, and kind, and you always manage to cheer me up when I'm upset. I like your excitement over a challenging project and the way you stick you tongue out slightly when you are concentrating hard enough."

Scott didn't know why exactly he said yes, but he would hope he wouldn't regret it.

-

Scott never took his shirt off around Jimmy.

To his luck, Jimmy didn't complain about the boundary, happy to let Scott sport t-shirts and tank tops, no matter the situation, and Scott fell a little more in love with him foe it. He wanted to tell Jimmy the truth, bit fear kept it locked behind his teeth.

"I have scars," the half truth was somber, he watched his hands so Jimmy could ready the hidden half in his eyes, "my parents were soulmates, and neither of them were particularly happy about it.

"I just happened to be a reminder of both of them to the other."

And Jimmy had held him as tears blurred his vision and swore that he'd never judge Scott for his scars, but he would push if he didn't want to show him them.

Scott cried harder.

He didn't think he deserved understanding.

-

Jimmy suggested they move in together as the end of their theird year was coming about. Scott choked on the water he had taken a sip of, and Jimmy had thumped his back until his airway cleared, apologizing.

"It's just, we spend most of our time together anyways," He explained, no expectations in his voice, "and I figured since our leases are coming up, we could just find somewhere together, but if you'd rather not-"

Scott cut him off with a kiss.

Jimmy was right after all, when Scott had finished packing, two and a half boxes were just stuff Jimmy had left at his apartment over the course of their relationship.

-

In the end, it was Jimmy who ended up being Scott's downfall.

Or more specifically, Jimmy shirt.

Scott had been half asleep against Jimmy as they watched a movie, wrapped in a pair of sweats and one of Jimmy's oversized shirts that absolutely swamped him. He had slowly been slipping more horizontal as the movie played and hadn't realized the shirt had gotten snagged between them, ridding up ever so slightly more with each inch Scott sank.

He could blame Jimmy for look, especially when the bright red stood out against his skin like blood.

Scott couldn't even remember the ensuing argument. Or, well, an argument implied that Scott was fight back. He'd been jostled awake by Jimmy's sudden movement, groggy until the realization of what Jimmy was freaking out over. He'd brought his hand to cover the words instinctual as he was questioned.

"Why did you never say anything?" Everything lead back to that, and Scott couldn't answer.

"Why did you never say anything?" Scott asked himself as he sunk to the ground, undeserved tears clouding his eyes and the resounding click of the front door being closed ringing in his ears.

"Why did you never say anything?"

-

Scott almost didn't expect Jimmy to come back. A little stupid on his end, as it was Jimmy's apartment as well, and he'd need to, at the very least, collect some of his stuff until Scott was able to move out.

Still, the sound of the door opening sent relief through Scott from where he'd set up a bed in the couch.

Jimmy deserved to get the bed. Scott wouldn't take it, even if he hadn't been sure Jimmy would be back that night.

He waited for the footsteps to go the bedroom, confused when instead they made their way over to the couch.

He kept his eyes closed. Hoping maybe Jimmy would think he was asleep and leave him be.

"I'm so sorry, baby," the words were whisper soft, and Scott wouldn't have been able to keep the furrow from his brow if he tried, "You told me when we first started dating about your scars, about why you had them. I should have understood why you would do what you did, but I just yelled."

Scott cracked his eyes open, summer sky meeting milk chocolate, and he was surprised to see Jimmy crack a smile when he did.

"I'm not saying I'm not... upset," his words were careful, searching, "and I can't say this hasn't changed anything. But nothing is broken that can't be fix."

And he was right, come later there were be long talks and discussions of everything, there would be tears and apologies and fixing things would be no small feat, but they would heal.

Nothing broken couldn't be fixed.

[greenlantern94to04]

Green Lantern-Related Titles Round-Up (June 1994)

Welcome to a new section where I'll be going over all the Green Lantern-related stuff happening across the DC Universe outside of the actual Green Lantern title in a given month, similar to what I've been doing at the '90s Superman blog. We start with a biggie...

Guy Gardner: Warrior #21

"EMERALD FALLOUT," Part 4! An all-splash pages issue about Guy's climactic fight with former goodypants Hal Jordan, who, as Guy learned last issue, recently went insane and killed a bunch of their mutual friends. Alan Scott, Arisia, Colos of the Darkstars, Wonder Woman, and other Justice Leaguers are also there, but Guy is the only one who's able to last longer than one page against Hal.

This is because Guy's yellow power ring is powered by residual Green Lantern energy, so now that Hal is Green Lantern energy, the more he fights Guy, he more powerful Guy gets. Hal, who apparently thought Guy would sympathize with his murderous heel turn given that 1) he's also lived in Coast City and 2) he's also used to being called a psycho, eventually ends the fight by simply crushing Guy's ring and absorbing all of its power.

Hal leaves Guy in his undies and gives him with a warning for everybody (as in, the other superheroes): "I don't want to harm them... but I will get the power I need. I will make everything all right again." Not sure how Guy will deliver this message since Hal apparently knocked him unconscious and shot him off into space right before saying it, but okay.

Darkstars #21

"EMERALD FALLOUT" Fallout! This issue starts with Darkstar Colos briefly alluding to the fact that he just had his ass handed to him by Hal in GG:W #21, but he says he's got "more pressing matters" than a murderous maniac with the power of 3600 Green Lanterns, so he goes off to do some Darkstars bullshit. The reason I'm including this here is the scene in which Green Lantern John Stewart, who had ascended to Guardian of the Universe status at the end of his solo series Green Lantern: Mosaic, suddenly realizes that everyone's GL rings have disappeared. Oh, he's no longer a Guardian (because there are no Guardians anymore).

While John is wondering what's going on, a Controller, one of the "distant cousins of the Guardians" who run the Darkstars, shows up and says he might be able to explain, but he needs John to come somewhere with him. Meanwhile, there's a scene where one Darkstar superior tries telling another about Hal Jordan going evil and threatening the very existence of the universe, but once again the other guy is like "who cares, let's talk about some Darkstars bullshit."

This issue also includes the moment in which Donna Troy, formerly Wonder Girl of the Teen Titans, is offered a gig as a Darkstar. We'll be seeing a lot of her over in Green Lantern in the future...

Superman & Batman Magazine #5

This series (which I'll cover in more detail at some point in the Superman '86 to '99 Patreon, because it's kinda awesome) includes not only animated-style comics but also in-universe articles and interviews with DC characters. This issue has one in which Superman's One-Time Romantic Interest Cat Grant talks to Guy, who thinks she's hitting on him but reaffirms his commitment to Ice.

The interview spends a lot of time explaining Guy's yellow ring (which, as of this month, he no longer has) and his armor (which only lasted like two issues). The funniest part is that it ends with Guy saying he has to bail because "somethin' weird's happening on Oa, an' I gotta find out what." Is the implication here that between learning of the emergency on Oa in GG:W #20 and actually leaving with the rest of the Justice League, Guy took the time to be interviewed for a magazine? That does seem like a very Guy Gardner thing to do.

Justice League Quarterly #14

Hal Jordan appears in this issue's main story, but a blurb in the first page lets us know that it "takes place waaay before current events in Justice League or Green Lantern." That explains why Hal looks so cheerful and non-murderous.

"Boy, I sure do love having a city!"

The story is about a satanic guy turning Praxis, one of the members of Booster Gold's capitalism-loving super-team the Conglomerate, into a giant being of pure energy, for satanic reasons. Hal and the League turn him back to normal using the power of friendship, basically. Then Hal makes a joke at Flash's expense and everyone laughs (off-panel; it's implied).

"I also sure do love having friends, whom I'd never kill or try to erase from existence! Life is GOOD here in mid-1993."

[captain-writes]

Codfather Head Origin 3 - Song

All of the rulers getting captured at once was distinctly not in their plans, especially with all twelve rulers getting thrown into the dungeons of Rivendell while Xornoth planned to somehow publicize their downfall.

With so many of them, the guards had split them between a few different cells, though thankfully they were all visible to one another. Being truly separated at this point would make any attempt at escape harder. But with magic suppression devices on Scott, Gem, and Lizzie, it was becoming increasingly clear that they really needed the keys to their cells if they wanted to get out of there.

“Lizzie, I think I should try,” Jimmy frowned as he spoke, not liking seeing his sister and friends in this situation.

“I think you might be right, Jimmy. We don’t really have many options right now,” she nodded. Turning to the other rulers, she conveyed a warning, “Any of you who feel particularly susceptible to magic, might want to touch someone’s magic suppression cuffs.”

After a short shuffle around the cells, everyone seemed to settle, at which point Jimmy reached up to tug off the Codfather Head, revealing his face fully. Brown eyes cut across the faces of the other imprisoned rulers as Jimmy’s ear-fins stretched for a moment.

It was when Jimmy opened his mouth that they realized what he was doing, the immediate change in atmosphere very apparent to all of them, especially when the guard at the door began to make his way over, following the melodic sound of singing. Jimmy’s expression even shifted the closer that the guard got, becoming softer, more innocent, more enticing.

By the time the door to his cell swung open, it was clear Jimmy had the guard completely under his control. As the song tapered off, Jimmy gave the man a smile, tainted in a danger that the man couldn’t see as he leaned forward to say: “Meet me at the bottom of the lake, won’t you?”

“Jimmy,” Lizzie cut in, warning in her voice.

“The border, then. Meet me there?” The allure in Jimmy’s voice was sickeningly sweet as the guard nodded and left the dungeons completely, leaving his keys behind in the door of the unlocked cell.

“What the heck just happened?” Fwhip questioned.

“Jimmy’s a siren,” Joel answered easily.

“I get that, but what the heck was that?”

Jimmy blinked, his ear-fins fluttering, “You mean me taking off the Head?”

“Definitely,” Sausage agreed, eagerly wanting the story.

“Sirens are dangerous if we use our Voices wrong. So I use the Head to stop me from using my Voice without meaning to,” Jimmy admitted, shrugging lightly. “I don’t really like how bloodthirsty and mean I get when I use my Voice, so it’s better to just avoid it.”

The other rulers sat in silence for a moment as they realized that Jimmy was constantly holding back the ability to make anyone do what he wanted, always appearing as the weakest of the rulers. Suddenly, they were very grateful for his preference to keep squabbles small and his contentment with the small size of his empire. As well as his self-restraint, despite his temper.

[tmwcs]

HHP - Chapter 15 pt 1

Sorry for the long wait! Part 1 is up, part 2 coming your way and possibly part 3. Tomorrow remaining parts will be posted. This chapter will have SMUT, just none in part 1....

Your eyes gently open to the rising light of the sun peering through the window. Laying on your side, you could smell Heeseung’s cologne over his bedspread as you took your time to raise yourself up to a seated position. His room looked clean, tranquil, and was quiet.

Looking around, you found that you were the only one present in the room.

‘Could he be downstairs?’ You wondered.

Barely able to recall exactly what had gone down, your memory appeared to be hazy and clouded, only the bits and pieces of the event that occurred the night before popped up.

You look around. You couldn’t even remember where your phone was until you suddenly remembered that you left your phone inside the car belonging to one of the girls just before the rugby sporting event, whereas after you were...taken.

Yes! That’s right! You were taken, now you’re starting to remember everything.

From the moment that you felt unfamiliar hands grabbing onto you, to being shoved into a van, and taken to a remote and wide parking space of an abandoned lot, you sporadically recalled what had followed afterwards.

‘Y/N, you see all these cameras? I’m going to need you to swap your view and make sure to look at each one, okay?’

‘If you move or scream I’ll cut your mouth wide open.’

‘Did Ethan give you this ring? Where’s the diamond?’

‘Y/N you’re on birth control, right? Whatever, just give me the plan B pill just in case.’

…………….

The awful words that reflected what Tiff and Scott had planned hit you…hard.

The emptiness of your gut propelled you to feel that sense of anxiety and helplessness that you felt the moment you were seated on the hood of that car, forced to face all those bright lights aimed at your face as Tiff and Scott began to make preparations for their ‘plan’ which you didn’t want to think about to confirm the details of what they were going to do. You had a good idea without thinking of it.

Just the thought of what could have transpired nearly brought you to tears. Scott and Tiff’s voice echo through your brain once more….

‘I’m assuming you’re not a virgin, are you? Because if you are I definitely need to know now, that’s a huge bonus.’

‘Scott, I need my car. When can I leave?’

The night would have continued, filled with your screams and tears, and a deep for longing of death to greet you at any cost. You would have welcomed death knowing full well what Scott and his crew were going to do with you, and it almost happened.

‘Scott, I need my car. When can I leave?’ Tiff’s voice plays through your head yet again.

It almost happened to you.

Until….

‘How about when I’m done with you? Does that sound good, Tiff?’

Heeseung…

Looking around, you noticed that you had no clothes on, just the covers of Heeseung’s bedding. As you shifted your position to go through the drawers to get some attire, you winced at the sudden pain that took place around your waist.

‘What is this?’

You remark the small, dotted indentations on your skin. Red, tender, and sensitive to the touch, you became puzzled at how you got the markings. Flash backs of Scott came to mind, where the man had rubbed his disgusting hands under your shirt, grabbed and fondled your breasts under your bra as he pinched your nipples, and smothered your cheek with his kisses and even licked you with his tongue, forcing the issue as you were tenacious on keeping your head turned away, not once opening your mouth for him to enter.

He did all of that…but he didn’t do this.

You stood up and walked over to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Once you flicked the light on, you observed the reflection of your naked body, covered in a series of bite marks, hickey’s, and finger prints. From your neck all the way down to your inner thighs, you looked as if you had been ravished by a demonic beast.

Ethan…

Now you started to remember, beginning with the ride back home, where Ethan was in full gear as he stared at the road the entire way back. You couldn’t remember exactly how or whose car you were in, as you recalled Jake and H/N dropping you both off somewhere, where there was a red vehcile waiting.

You remembered the keys being under the driver’s seat, which Ethan had already known about as he immediately retrieved them once he opened the door. After placing Eden in the front passenger seat, he started the car and drove…quietly.

He was not only quiet, but he looked as if his mind was zoned out or focused on something. Yet the moment that he would look at you…or rather, Eden, his stare was odd. It was different.

Normally he would stare with a desire to do the most personal and intimate acts with you or Eden, yet last night it was much more intense, for longing and fervent than ever. Last night, he wasn’t just yearning, he was...hungry.

‘Let me eat you.’

…………………

‘Okay….my Ethan. Go ahead…eat.’

………………..

So that’s what happened…. he ate…he quenched…and he had his fill with your body, under your Eden entity.

Dance for me forever Look at me in the broken mirror And tune it with the feet This beautiful moment I don't stop Woah, again, chaconne now Dance for mе, like you're drunk and fascinated by mе I just wanna dance on, can't stop it This is my world in the dark Woah, again, chaconne now

Part 2 <- click

[godstaff]

Hey do you want to provide a in-depth analysis why you you prefer superwonder over clois, wondertrev, and wonderbat?

My analysis are always skin deep and, of course, biased according to my preferences.

First of all, I adamantly reject the couples of humans and supers. Not, as Lork fans suggested, because matters of eugenics (poor kids, they are grasping at straws trying to prove we, Superwonder fans, are evil). I'm not a nazi, looking for a superior race. It's only a matter of different physical characteristics. As a matter of fact, when a meta and a human share a bed, there's always the risk the meta could kill the human in their sleep. It is common the sleeping person turns, extends the limbs (sometimes violently), hugs the other...a lot of involuntary actions which could harm the human, even asphyxiate the partner by accident. Nobody can control the movements in their sleeping phase. I can imagine Scott Summers suddenly waking up in the middle of the night and opening his eyes without his protecting visor and blowing Jean's head by accident with the rays coming out of his eyes. Jean herself may be having nightmares of being attacked and projecting a repellent force field with her mind, causing Scott being thrown through a wall or being crushed. If the super has superstrength, the greater the risk. So, there's even peril with two metas sleeping together. Individual beds or even separated bedrooms are needed. Clark may have meteorism one night and kill Lois with one potent fart (one can only hope). Sorry to burst your romantic bubble, but each case must be considered individually.

Another instance in which there is a dangerous loss of control is when the meta indulges in their romantic urges. When the blood abandons your brain and goes to your nether parts, instinct becomes stronger than care for the other person. When you are two or three times stronger than your partner, like it may happen in human couples, it's not a big deal. However, when the difference is hundreds or even thousands of times, like "okay, dear, you can tumble a tractor tire at the gym. Quite impressive. But your partner can move the very planet where you and that tire are standing on." That's significant and very dangerous.

You can't expect, like Lork fans do, that Clark is always in control of his impulses and emotions in Lois behalf. Sex is one of the few instances in which you have to be able to let loose, to enjoy yourself, and Clark can't do it with a common human. Supes is always holding back in every other circumstance of his life 24/7 (world made of cardboard, remember?), let him have this one. It seems to me a selfish attitude from fans to relegate the main character to benefit a secondary one. The same goes to those willing to throw Diana/Wonder Woman under the bus to make Trevor or Batso look important.

A mortal human and a superbeing could never constitute a couple of equals. Nor soulmates, since their souls are focused on very different interests: a superhero needs to look at the World from a global perspective, not from the petty need for notoriety and what would be good for the front page of the paper the next day.

An elephant and an ant could never be more than friends.

Writers love saying "superheroes" are the modern gods and demigods. So, let's take a lesson from ancient Greeks, historical scolars and experts on everything regarding deities: Truth is their gods bedded mortal women and had children with them. The trick was they were forced to take a lesser form to be with the human. If the deity presented itself as a god, the mortal would burst in flames at the mere sight of the Olympian magnificence. Mortals couldn't be in the presence of the god in all its glory. Semele, the god Dyonisus human mother, made Zeus promise her he will appear before her like he really was. It ended badly for her.

Instead of posting idiocies like eugenics accusations to justify they have no real arguments to defend their position, this is what fans should focus on: The important thing in a comics book is the guy under whose name is the publication and the franchise, and this principal character can't and shouldn't be defined by the supporting one he goes to bed with. That's why James Bond is sorrounded by a constant carrousel of women. Ironically, the one time the importance of the female companion got promoted to principal, meant the demise of 007, as it should be, because his own survival wasn't his priority anymore.

SuperWonder is, IMHO, totally different. A true pairing of equals. Not only because of their matching powers, the easy argument other couples fans often use. They both are protectors, guardians, helpers, defenders. Their goals are similar. They won't hesitate to sacrifice in the name of justice, peace and truth or to give each other's life for their partner.

They don't have to hold back to be with the other, which is of great help when you want to share your life with your beau without restrictions. "Oh, yeah! because your only interest is for them to have sex...!" Some detractor might say. I say what's wrong with that? Don't you like to enjoy such liberties yourselves? Don't you want the same for your fictional favorites?

The whole planet is their oyster and they want to make it a safer place for all the people to share and enjoy. They communicate with monarchs and peasants all the same: they listen a lot more than they speak to understand our conflicted species.

They usually associate themselves and work with human heroes to give us the chance to admire someone of our own species as role models. Thanks to their upbringing they have strong family values and can't wait to form a nucleus of their own, when the planetary situation allows them.

Some humans, like Batso, think because they have more intelligence than the rest they have the right to tell the others what to do. Diana and Kal believe in sitting down at the side of the road to encourage and wait for those who take longer to walk the path. They know if we don't make it to the end together and convinced of what we do, it doesn't matter how fast we do the journey.

Because they began their relationship as friends with total honesty which later developed in love and care they concluded their relationship with humans should be based in those traits: honesty, love and care. Hence they ditched their secret identities and secret hideouts. This, in turn, made their loved ones be safer, because now the whole planet recognizes them as friends and is looking after their family and friends, warning the heroes when ill intentioned people is around those loved ones to hurt them. Around the Globe there's aproximately 1 billion smartphones and growing. All that people made possible to inform in real time of any event happening anywhere, covering the planet with a tight network of information.

Being romantically associated with humans significantly slowed them down. We humans are too prone to drama, mistrust and always want to have some kind of benefit ("what's in it for me?"), economical or otherwise, whenever we do something or engage in some project. Humans are a drag.

Regardless of our good intentions, a selfish strike is always there: a woman once told Clark that he being Superman and her won't ever work as a couple, because she isn't prepared to share him with the rest of the World.

Nobody could understand one another like Diana and Kal. They are each other's shelter from the storm. This is the main reason why I prefer them together above any other pairing DC may decree for them. Screw tradition.

The situations and characters here described are a projection of mine of how the infinite potential of Wonder Woman and Superman could be exploited if well written if the writers and DC Comics really cared for them.

Thank you.

Sorry for the wall of text.

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2023 No. 30 - Bridal Carry

Scogan Bingo challenge Image Prompt (see below)

Image Prompt

*******************************************************************************

"Okay, just what did you two infants get up to this ti…" Hank paused his annoyed rant before it could even really begin, gasping at the expression of utter dread bordering almost on panic on Logan's face. Jumping up from where he'd lazily turned around with his office chair in a flash, he hectically nodded towards the next best stretcher. "Down. Now. Christ, Logan, how often did I tell you not to move a patient when it can be avoided? Whatever happened this time, if he's got any …"

"No fractures," Logan got out in a choked tone betraying how arduously he held on to the last of his self-control after that terrible accident in the Danger Room of which he still had no fucking idea how it had even happened. Already, he couldn’t even remember how he'd managed to hastily carry Scott the few steps from the training center door to the sick bay in his arms without losing himself to rage at himself. "Would have heard that. You got the same damn enhanced senses as me, King Kong, you know I would have. I have no idea why he's out." As carefully as possible anyway, precisely because he was clueless about what had gone so wrong in Scott's and his harmless sparring session in the simulated deserted woods of Canada, he put his partner down. Kneeling beside the bed, with clenched fists, in the small bit of distance that he knew from experience Hank needed to work, he gritted his teeth as another wave of anger on himself and helplessness hit. Of fear that everything Scott and him had been building up with so much pain, grief, uncertainty in the year since Jean's death, after realizing their emotions were just as strong for each other as for the woman they'd both loved, was about to end. Just like that. And not in a damn battle against the Brotherhood, against Weapon X, or any of these other insane fuckers out there like either of them had to expect it every time they put their damn uniforms on. But because apparently, without even realizing it, Logan hadn’t been careful enough. Hadn’t had his stronger, more massive body under control in their hand-to-hand, making some kind of wrong move … But what, for fuck's sake? "He didn’t even hit his head, Hank. I just threw him to the ground. Into a damn bush. Idiot even landed softly. And then he suddenly didn’t get up anymore."

"Breathe." Apparently realizing Logan was beating himself up enough already, Hank stopped by him on his way to retrieve all kinds of devices from the highly modern equipped examination center, to rest one of his fur-covered hands on his shoulder which gave Logan at least the assurance that Scott wasn’t in acute danger, or their in-house surgeon wouldn’t even have paused for that little moment. "Shi’ar basic scan says, life signs are pretty stable. Maybe he's just been asking too much of himself once more, and his system went on a break for him. It's happened before in phases of too little sleep and recreation. Whatever it is, we'll repair it." Hank threw Logan an encouraging smile, already having hurried back to the stretcher, before turning to the monitors of the scanner hovering over Scott's body again. His upper lip drew back behind his fangs in thoughtfulness as he swiped over whatever data the alien technology spitted out, shaking his head a couple of times. "Inconclusive. There seems to be a neurological problem indeed, but except for being out cold, he's not having matching symptoms. Gonna put him in a tube. That will take a few minutes. You wanna take that outside in the meantime?" Hank pointedly stared at the still-unlit cigar in Logan's hand. "And while you're at it, go shower and redress. You know how much I hate these rooms not being sterile. I'll call you as soon as I know anything."

While Logan wasn’t willing to leave this damn floor behind where he might just have made one of the biggest fuck-ups of his life, he knew his own uncontrolled temper well enough to fear, he'd lose it sooner or later if he didn’t get a couple of puffs and half a drink into him right now. And showering the worst of his agitation away ice-cold, about something that might not even happen in the end, probably wasn’t the worst idea. So he pushed himself up with a reluctant snarl and hurried toward the door, after giving the far too whitish, unmoving features of his partner another worried glance. He obviously couldn’t communicate with Scott in the way his deceased partner or Charles could and usually didn’t care a lot for mental gifts anyway. But right now, he wished nothing more than to be able to get through at least one fearful sentence to Scott's clouded mind, nothing short of a desperate plea. Logan had no idea what would become of him if so shortly after Alkali Lake, he would have to deal with losing someone he loved again. Please be alright.

*******

"The good news is, it's not Logan's fault." Hank regarded Logan with another of these amicable glances over his small glasses, crossing his legs to rest his datapad with a certain patient file opened on his knee. "Technically, it's mine. I should have forced Scott into the sickbay at gunpoint after that HYDRA brawl last week. I'd only seen his fall from some truck from the corner of my eyes and didn’t realize how badly he must have hit his head. And knowing that stubborn idiot, Scott probably made sure, no one noticed he must have had splitting headaches and nausea ever since then, so I wouldn’t get the perverted idea of declaring him unfit for action. On a side note, we should maybe think about how to solve our understaffing problem if you don't want that to happen again all over."

That went in the direction of Charles who'd come to the examination room together with Ororo by now, staring at the still motionless figure of his favorite pupil ceaselessly. At Hank's last sentence, his unusually hunched posture deflated even more, a tired rubbing over his eyes indicating, this wasn’t a problem exactly new to him. He'd just not dedicated energy to it like he would have in the past, still caught in his own depression and regrets after Alkali Lake. "It's not like I haven’t been trying, Henry. I'll get right back to seeing if one of our old partners is willing to help us out, at least until some of the teenagers will be ready to take over more responsibilities in this house."

Satisfied with that assurance for now, Hank hurried to get back to the actual subject, not least because of Logan's impatient gesture from the hand not firmly holding Scott's. "Alas, you can only ignore a blood clot for so long. Actually, I would go as far as saying, you saved his life with that shoulder throw, Logan. If that thing in his head would have started moving on its own, possibly in his sleep, you could have woken up to a corpse. Now that I know, I can take care of this," he quickly added, with emphasis on a calming tone in his sonorous voice when Ororo gasped, holding on to the back of Charles' wheelchair. "That clip around his forehead stops the wandering, and the Shi’ar automated med system is already preparing everything for surgery next door. Thanks to the tools our alien friends have equipped us with in the course of the decades, I don't even need to cut and drill him open. It's a minimal procedure; with any luck, he'll be complaining about bed rest by tonight, Logan." Another brief grin curled on Hank's bulging lips as he looked at Logan standing so close to that stretcher, never once letting go of his partner, but this time, there was a nervous quality to it. "That's not why I called you all here. I mean, for the sake of full disclosure, I do need to warn you, of course, that residual risks are not inconsiderate whenever brain tissue is involved. I'm 95 % sure that I can just aspirate the clot and that will be it, but the excess fluid makes it hard to tell if there's possible damage from the crash from that car below." He pointed one of the x-rays on the brightly lit neon wall showing images of his patient's brain the kind of which Logan wasn’t seeing for the first time. Which made it all the more frightening, spotting something dark that definitely didn’t belong on the prefrontal cortex. "That's very unlikely, though; we would have noticed. One thing I will say is, it might not be chance this happened, or that this location in particular is affected."

"You're talking about his headaches." Ororo stepped closer to the image with crossed arms, her skin showing a suspicious greyish tone as she regarded the dangerous lump with narrow eyes.

"Mind filling me in?" Logan growled when Hank nodded tensely and Charles's grey eyes, too, suddenly went wide as they turned Scott's way, his hand clenching around his chair's armrest.

"This is the part of the brain responsible for mutation control," Charles answered before Hank could, something almost like … hope in his voice. "Forced to shut his optic blasts down from the beginning, Scott has always suffered from constant minor headaches with the occasional extreme spike. Since Jean's death, the number of excruciating migraine attacks has been increasing. He didn’t tell anyone, Logan," Charles sighed, seeing the self-reproaches immediately return to Logan's expression, about not having noticed anything. "You know how he gets. Me, I only saw it in his mind, and he almost blackmailed Ororo into staying quiet when he fainted in a sparring session with her once. He didn’t want you to worry. I thought it was just the grief but …"

"But it might be a lot more," Hank barged in, getting visibly excited, one of his claws scraping over the clean PVC ground in a nerve-wracking scrunching noise. "If the emotional impact of Jean's death strengthened his gift, it's possible his brain went into full defense mode, finally repairing the damage from that plane crash when Scott was twelve. It's been known to happen before. Mutations don’t like to be curbed in. Often, they find a way. After all this time, we'd thought, Scott was one of the unlucky cases, but if we're right about this … Then there's possible excess matter from that old scarring in there which explains the blood clot. All the more a reason to get our young Captain in my surgery immediately." Finally getting impatient about so much theory while his patient was technically still in a life-threatening situation, Hank jumped up from his chair and pulled on a white coat over his usual reduced clothing, checking on his datapad if said preparations next door were complete.

"If this is true, Hank …" Some of the fear of possibly losing a close friend had slipped off Ororo's thin shoulders as well, the hint of a smile tugging on her full lips that had become rare since they'd all lost a beloved team member. "Does it mean what I think it means?"

"Let's not get our hopes up too quickly," Hank warned her, typing more commands into his procedure control program. "Until I removed that clot, I'm fishing in the dark about what is below. Everything might be exactly like it was when he wakes up." When he looked up from his work again though, there was a mildly confident grin on Hank's lips, too. "Or Scott might not need his glasses ever again. We'll have to see. Now get out of here, the lot of you. I got work to do."

A second time today, Logan had to make himself leave the sickbay reluctantly, with his hands deeply buried in his pocket, his shoulders tight. At least for him, the fear that something could go wrong in such a dangerous surgery was far more unsettling than some possible positive surprises. But when Ororo hugged him in the hallway, a bright glistening in her child-like dark eyes, he thought it couldn’t hurt at least, attaching a bonus item to the wish he was silently, secretly sending in his mind to whoever might possibly be out there responsible for the fate of them all. A drink somewhere in a quiet corner of the garden actually sounded like heaven right now.

*******

Scott did complain, of course, he did. Knowing this lovable bastard inside out by now, Logan would have been more concerned if he hadn’t. But Scott was also entirely pain-free, at peace with his mutation and the happiest Logan had ever seen him since Alkali Lake, and that counted a lot more as far as he was concerned.

Therefore, he put up with all nagging about allegedly entirely unnecessary doctor's orders with a patient smile, about the kids falling behind on a curriculum that was notoriously too ambitious in Scott's classes anyway, and about Scott's body going out of shape from not beating himself up in the gym or Danger Room every day for a whole week. When Scott was done with one of his rants, Logan either shut him up with one of his favorite meals or a kiss, and that worked surprisingly well. Just like the promise of a little surprise on their upcoming anniversary weekend. Which Logan suspected, Scott only allowed himself to get excited about because it would mean, Hank would finally release him from the sick bay after a whole series of tests, scans, and nonstop drips to counter all the drugs that the complicated procedure had made necessary, and even more tests. Finally, more or less allowed, Logan sneaked his partner out of the cellar on a late Saturday afternoon, pushing the elevator button that would take them right to the Mutant's High roof, much to Scott's visible confusion. When they stepped out the door seconds later, they did it to the beautiful orange that was the sun slowly starting to set.

These enchanting sky-blue eyes going back and forth between the color phenomenon in the distance and the deckchairs Logan had prepared by the low wall, where the view of the woods behind the mansion was the best, Scott was visibly looking for words in vain. When his luscious lips finally opened, they did it only to capture Logan's in a kiss, the faint fragrance of salt in the air from stubbornly suppressed tears only growing stronger.

Logan was nice enough not to mention it and reluctantly backed away because that was for later. Right now, they had something more important to do. Silently pulling Scott with him, they got comfortable on the chairs still without a word of which none were needed right now. Logan poured them a drink from the expensive bottle he'd left on a table between the chairs along with two glasses and a bowl of sweets and fruit before turning his attention to the sunset for a while. Which on his part was mostly an excuse, of course, to watch his lover from the corner of his eyes who was hardly touching his glass, occasionally blinking away another tear or two his gaze glued to the slowly darkening sky in the distance.

The news hadn’t come entirely without issues for Scott, originally. He was still struggling with the fear that this condition might not last in spite of Hank's opposite reassurances, and he had yet to start actually trying out how to activate and adjust his blasts at will which would be a matter of weeks in the Danger Room, no doubt. But at this moment, free of the prisons of his quartz shields and drinking in something so natural for most people, as he hadn’t been allowed to do in more than 20 years, that amazed, touched smile on Scott's lips revealed, he finally realized, all that was worth it. "Love you," he finally murmured when the sky had almost darkened completely and it started to get a little chilly up here, reaching out to brush the back of Logan's hand with a shy fingertip. "I know none of us knew where this whole thing would be headed when we started but … I wouldn’t want anyone else with me in such a moment, and that tells me, we made the right choice."

"Good, because you're not getting rid of me anytime soon." As far as Logan was concerned, that was all that needed to be said on the emotions part even on a day like this. Scott would know all he didn’t say either way. Well, maybe one more thing he actually had to tell his lover before they'd retire for the night. "Got something for tonight that I brought from some store downtown last week. Surprise bag special. Honestly, I got no idea what's even in it. But it could be nice for a little adrenaline, to celebrate." When Scott showed him a broad, definitely very interested grin, Logan hurried to get up, the heat of impatience and longing immediately starting to coil in his middle. He took the bottle and glasses but left the almost untouched food because in a house full of fleas, chocolate and cherries would never survive for longer than half an hour anyway. "You go shower the sickbay off, I prepare the Danger Room. Bring the unmarked paper bag on the top board of our cabinet. No peeking inside."

"Why the Danger Room?" Pushing himself up as well, Scott looked like he was about to protest for a second about such scandalous use of the X-Men's hypermodern training facility, but such exaggerated correctness, Logan had fortunately quickly healed him from after they'd gotten together.

Logan stretched up to kiss him again, stealing the remains of that excellent booze from his lover's tongue and giving his firm behind a shameless squeeze. "Because our apartment's not nearly soundproof enough for all I'm gonna do to you tonight."

Judging by the fierce blush immediately stretching over Scott's attractive high cheekbones and the cloud of pheromones radiating off his skin, his partner had no objections.

********

With the alluring shapes Scott could feel in said paper bag on his way to the cellar, it became a challenge, not following his curiosity to open it. But with all the lengths Logan was going for him tonight, in spite of his dislike for too much romance, he didn’t want to ruin the surprise. The gift bag became irrelevant for now anyway when Scott locked the door of the holo hall behind him with his security code where less than a week ago, his life had changed rapidly once more. Then he marveled at the scene Logan had programmed, slowly stepping closer with his mouth ajar to where his lover was waiting for him on an obscenely wide King size, a half-smoked cigar between his fingers, his shirt already having found its way to the ground. That was a sight Scott would happily enjoy in every single one of those details he'd not been able to perceive without a disturbing red blur for so long, but for the moment, he was entirely caught up in the simulated hotel room's interior. Filled with furniture mostly made of glass and crystal, the bright morning light shining through the glass front lit the environment in a whole ocean of color, especially in the shape of hundreds of fragile crystal chains hanging from the ceiling that occasionally clanked in the faint breeze coming through one of the windows, a bright, almost musical sound. The ceiling was mirrored above the bed, of course, the walls lined with prints of famous paintings that Scott knew in theory, but had been physically unable to tell so far if they were actually any good. "Ororo?" It was definitely not a place where he'd expected his lover to spend the night voluntarily, and he appreciated it more than he could say how much effort Logan was putting into making Scott enjoy this unexpected gift of a whole new world to the fullest. But he was also pretty sure, Logan was not an expert on exclusive hotel suites, especially not in what, judging by the gigantic mountains outside, had to be Austria or Switzerland.

"She said something like, once we were done fucking each other stupid, you should have something else to enjoy." Logan nodded down on the mattress but held up his hand when Scott made a move to sit, pointing at a certain item in his hand. "That, not you. You're not getting onto this bed before you're naked, Slim."

Scott rolled his eyes, only belatedly remembering he no longer had a pair of mirrored glasses to hide such gestures from the people around him and grinned ruefully when Logan raised a brow at him warningly. One of those nights then. Well, right now, with all these new sensations flooding his mind, distracting him, Scott wouldn’t have been able to put up the firmness and focus necessary to be in control in bed of someone like Logan anyway who only once in a blue moon was in the mood for submitting as it was. "Just wondered why I bother to put on something nice for you in the first place," he remarked dryly before handing his partner the bag and quickly proceeding to lose his black, tight shirt and leather pants, boots, and underwear, revealing to his lover's hungry eyes that he was already half hard. In vain, he tried to sneak a peek at the content of that bag at last that Logan was rummaging in with a smirk.

"Because I'm not sharing that view with anyone in this house." Logan let out an appreciative hum, eyeing him from head to toe, and put the bag down beside him without taking anything from it for now, to Scott's disappointment. "Come 'ere. Want ya close." He patted the side of his hip, a signal Scott was well-trained in after so many months of sleeping together.

One he was very happy to follow, in spite of his cheeks slightly burning from the humiliation of being the only one entirely naked in the room. Something quickly not only forgotten but somewhat appreciated when he sat down in Logan's lap with his hips pressed to his lover's body, the rough sensation of auburn leather against the back of his thighs drawing a sigh from his lips. Heat pulsated in his veins when he could promptly feel something stir under those tight pants, pressing up deliciously against his bare ass. More than anything, he wanted to bury his hands in that broad, fuzzy chest right now instead of keeping them folded behind his back. Enjoy exploring every inch of that steeled goodness with his tongue, every line and ridge he'd never been allowed to make out so clearly before. See the now more expressive stirs on his lover's face while Scott devoured him … But when Logan was talking to him in that hoarse, firm tone, starting an encounter with such uncompromising commands already, that was off the table unless Scott wanted to earn a spanking, and that was alright. There would be a night for tenderness soon enough.

For now, he would be satisfied with being touched finally, but Logan still preferred just scanning his shaking silhouette up and down, a turned-on grin on his lips while he took an occasional drag from his cigar Scott's light pushdown against his crotch, he ignored in spite of his breathing already going visibly faster. "Some things in that bag, I've been meaning to get up to with you for a while, Slim. With your work obsession, there's no way to tell when we get a full night off next. You gonn' trust me with this? Trust me that I'll take care of you?"

"You always take care of me," Scott answered with a voice shaking far more suddenly than he liked it, and certainly not from doubt in that simple fact proven a thousand times over, in the field and outside of it. "Codeword?" Not something they'd needed so far, busy enjoying that unstoppable physical attraction between them existing ever since they'd met, in every possible way, without the need to dive into the more exotic aspect of things. Scott couldn’t say he'd never thought about it though, in spite of limited experience in that regard. While fetish had not been Jean's cup of tea, he'd read up on it lately a lot more than he cared to admit, in his usual obsessive love for being prepared. To know in theory at least what was coming probably with someone as passionate, wild, and more often than not dominant in the bedroom. None of that information had seriously turned him away from any of these possible games but being a warrior from puberty on, Scott possessed a precise body sensation both in theory and practice and was aware that every physique reacted differently to various stimulations. If something of what his lover had obviously very detailed planned out turned out not to be of Scott's liking, it would make things easier to have a quick and clear way to let Logan know so they could move on to something else.

"Code signal. Talking a lot is not happening tonight," Logan corrected him, visibly pleased with Scott's willing approval about giving himself to him so entirely, only shuddering now, too, at such a lewd promise instead of being scared off. At least two of his fingertips finally touched Scott, coming to rest on his lips, a groan rumbling in his chest when Scott instinctively licked them without being allowed to do so. "This is gonna be a long night for you. Your right hand, slut." Just grinning at Scott's grimace at the playful insult, Logan folded three of Scott's fingers into a fist and nudged him to cross his index finger with his thumb, resembling a vague X. "I'll watch out for that. Now … I think I just found a perfect decoration for those thin wrists of yours."

Hard as he tried, Scott couldn’t fight the hint of apprehension tightening his shoulders because he'd gone through too many captivities in his life and was too much in need of control, usually, to have a great love for restraints. But he didn’t want to ruin the fun immediately. And when Logan retrieved the first items from that bag, he actually had to laugh. Not only were the badly welded rings on those padded restraints so fragile, he was pretty sure he could just rip them off from wherever they might end up being tied to. Those hideous things were also a bright red. "Can I go colorblind again please?"

"I kinda like it. Reminds me of your blasts." Unfazed, Logan put the harmless restraint around Scott's lower arm, and then on his other side, closing both buckles loosely enough so Scott could easily slip out of them if there should be some kind of emergency. From the way Logan was softly pushing his arms back behind his waist without making an attempt to hook the buckles into each other, Scott could tell his lover of course knew exactly what was going on in him.

Not being allowed to bend down for a kiss became worse torture by the second than whatever delicious game of pain and humiliation his top could come up with tonight. "Logan …"

"We only just got started, Slim. Might wanna practice patience." Logan ran the same two fingertips up and down Scott's throbbing cock without even grasping him properly, humming at the treacherous drop of white collecting at the tip. This time, the way he was pushing against Scott's lip a moment later was unmistakable. Now a shudder ran through Logan's bulky shape as well when Scott did his best, cleaning his own salty taste of his lover's skin with firm sucking movements, a playful swirl of his tongue, nothing short of a promise. Logan's equally untouched cock promptly twitching against Scott's rim through his pants, he thrust his fingers deeper into Scott's mouth, moaning with his eyes closed as he was losing himself to the vivid fantasy of doing that with something thicker, more solid … Only when Scott moved his head back and forth in bold provocation, hollowing his cheeks around these thick fingers, Logan abruptly pulled away, a warning glistening in those narrow hazel eyes.

"Brat. Good thing we've got all the tools here to help that."

The next item from the surprise bag was in the same ridiculous color, but Scott hardly even noticed, his eyes on the characteristic shape of a thin loop and a large rubber ball attached to its end. For a moment, he almost balked, dreading the surely ridiculous picture he was about to make … But the arousal at the thought of being entirely at the hands of his master tonight, with no means to control anything unless an emergency stop was necessary, won. Still slightly hesitant, he opened up when Logan grazed his lips with the gag, awkwardly pushing against the fortunately quite neutral-tasting material in his mouth with his tongue once it was in, his jaw stretched in a way he was not used to unless he happened to be devouring his lover's cock … Scott's body tensed when he realized how restrictive such a little toy could be but with how rock hard he was by now, there was hardly a way to deny, he liked it. So he obediently leaned closer to his lover and lowered his head when he was being told to, breathing just a little harder through that strange obstacle as the straps were closed behind his head.

Logan used the chance to pull him onto his chest to his delight, finally granting him a little more body contact, entirely ignoring the shameful drops of saliva leaking on his shoulder that Scott could no longer swallow. His hands loosely caressing up and down Scott's back, he occasionally grabbed his behind, stroking his shaking thighs but never touched him where he really needed it.

With all that teasing, it was only a matter of time before Scott forgot his sub manners once more. Soon enough, he was rutting his neglected erection against Logan's through those damn pants, his face firmly buried against his lover's shoulder as he panted through his gag. The hold of his hand on his other wrist, just to keep himself from actually touching his lover, was now more effective than any restraint in this world. Only when a large hand grabbed his hair above the gag strap, yanking him back, he realized he'd fucked up.

"Can't go easy on you for five damn minutes," Logan sighed, outrageously calm in spite of how much Scott could feel his untouched length strain against his pants from the inside. The smell not only of his own lust was heavy in the air by now. "Sit." As a first punishment, Logan's strict hands on his hips directed Scott downward until he was seated on the tree trunks that were Logan's thighs instead of his crotch, robbed of that delicious touch of hardness from a second ago. Not only an admonishment to put him in place but also a distance to give Logan more room to play as it turned out when the next toy revealed was thin, soft rope, again in that stupid color.

Scott's muffled nagging about the penalty turned to an honestly offended word behind his gag when the rope didn’t go, as half and half expected, to his wrists or ankles but was wrapped around the base of his cock and his balls instead, in unforgiving loops pushing any kind of release far out of reach. Expecting nothing but being ignored, he writhed unhappily, keening softly when hated, unforgiving pressure left his genitals even more swollen and throbbing, the pressure of growing need especially on the inside worse by the second.

Once satisfied with his work, Logan cut the excess rope off with one claw tip and gave Scott's ass a slap, drawing another high-pitched tone from his stretched lips. "Better. Up." He motioned to the ground next to the bed, his pupils large with growing lust. "Back to me, head down."

Though he was still a little irritated, Scott followed those orders as well, realizing with resignation that he wasn’t any less turned on because of that forced restraint between his legs, on the contrary. Turning away from his lover robbed him of the heat of Logan's strong body against his, the slightly cool air of their accommodations brushing over his skin where a first layer of sweat was drying, making him shiver all over. And yet he didn’t feel for a single moment, he didn’t want any of this, not when his lover was so clearly enjoying himself and Scott's own body was shaking in growing want. Having closed his eyes automatically, Scott let out a gasp when the next stripe of thin leather was wrapped around his neck, the buckle closed nowhere near tightly enough to restrict his breathing in any way. That was not what this was about. When Logan turned him around by his shoulder again and the leash belonging to the collar, of course in the same damn color, was clipped onto it, Scott's knees almost buckled from the overwhelming heat in his cells. His cheeks were a bright red at this new lustful humiliation but his cock obviously didn’t share that notion, straining in its bondage, new precum dripping on the expensive simulated cashmere carpet while he gripped his wrist behind his back so harshly, he could feel his own nails leave traces.

His eyes wide open, he whined around his gag when Logan started to trace all these little things he'd decorated him with, with slow, circling movements of his fingertips, never lingering anywhere for too long, licking his lips in growing hunger again and again. The tent in his pants started to look painful by now, his own skin flushed deep, but he somehow managed to hold back – by now, Scott was pretty sure there was a certain kind of ring involved in that, given Logan's usually far harder to control feral urges – and regard Scott with a proud smile. "You have no idea how fucking hot you are right now, slut." He let out an exasperated sigh when Scott instinctively squirmed and scrunched his nose for a lack of verbal methods to protest, never too comfortable with compliments, and reached behind him for the bag again. "I was giving you a chance to be good for me. Apparently, you really want to use all these things."

Things, in this case, meant two metal clamps with ridiculous little pendants Scott was pretty sure resembled either balls or a cherry and couldn’t decide what was worse. Not that it mattered, given the awfully sharp and tight-looking teeth on these things. It was the first time tonight for his breathing to go too fast, too hard, for a reason other than arousal but that quickly changed when Logan leaned in to lick a long, soothing stripe over his chest, covering his skin with small nips and kisses until he could relax again. Only to tense all over when his lover's lips found one of his already pebbled nipples, nurturing that hardness only with firm sucking. The little flashes of lust went straight to Scott's groin, adding to the agonizing tension there as his balls were fuller and heavier by the second, his cock leaking white all over the place, without any kind of release in sight. With his eyes squeezed firmly shut, his attention was off, and he only snapped back fully into the game when the first clamp bit down on his skin. Screaming out, Scott had to broaden his stance when he startled harshly, the stinging and pressure on sensitive skin more than he'd had expected … But once he got used to the worst of that initial torture, the tug reduced to a mild throb, he found it at least helped with not being that close to an unreachable ledge anymore. Which didn’t make it any easier to go through the same procedure on the other side. Before he was finished coming down from the pain on his other nipple, Logan's lips were suddenly on his cock, licking, sucking firmly, taking him in bit by bit, and though Scott knew of course, that was only meant as more torture as long as that damn rope was on, his brains immediately checked out from pleasure.

Logan was nice enough to keep him from trying something as stupid as thrusting and earning himself another punishment with his hands firmly on Scott's hips but never once stopped taking him in until his lips grazed the edge of those ropes. Then he just stayed there, slowly swallowing around Scott's tip, humming in arousal as his administrations drew more precum from the oversensitive tip. Scott could swear he could see the bastard grin around his cock when Scott trembled and jerked and the stupid clamps on his nipples clanked with a dull plastic thud, a tug from the albeit light weight torturing his nipples further. "Doing so well for me, Slut." When Logan pulled away again, his beautiful lips were slightly swollen, precum and saliva glistening in his beard, and Scott thought he would probably have come from that alluring sight alone right now if he'd been able to. "Think we're gonna leave the blindfold in that bag for now; you've had enough of that. But you still deserve a punishment for being impatient as you know. You gonn' be a good little slut for me and take it?"

Scott wasn’t sure he could make it through one more minute of all this before losing his mind but nodded anyway, arduously blinking away sweat from his eyes, leaning into Logan's loving touch on his ass cheeks with a small sob of approval. His blood was only racing faster in his veins when a well-known, promising massage of two fingertips found his untouched opening, just teasing the twitching skin for the moment.

"Soon," Logan promised with a heated smirk, then grabbed the end of that leash dangling down Scott's chest casually between two fingers, much like he usually held his cigars, and got up to stride to some massive mahogany desk in the corner without even looking back.

The tightening grasp of the collar around Scott's neck threatened to hinder his breathing before he gathered his wits and followed his lover, an alluring sensation that he filed for another time because the experiments running right now were already suited to drive him out of his damn mind. His skin glistening with heat, it was pure relief, being told to bend over that desk. He couldn’t even mind that there was a huge crystal mirror hung over it in which he could now see his own flushed, disarranged appearance all the clearer. He only winced at the pressure of the edge against his groin, tilting his hips away for a more comfortable angle, only to be rewarded with another tight slap to his cheeks. This, at least, something familiar which he occasionally enjoyed. Now moaning loudly around his gag, he didn’t even care about the impressive amount of drool dripping from his lips on the simulated precious surface. The pressure of the clamps was a far less arousing sensation, biting into his skin with every breath and helping to not be focused entirely on the emptiness and clench inside that begged to be filled, and soon. And all these sensations were doubled in an instant with smooth round leather hit his other ass cheek just a second after the reflection in that mirror had let Scott know, his lover had found himself another new toy. Screaming out more in surprise than anything, he tried instinctively to straighten back up, only for Logan's free hand to firmly close around both his wrists, holding him steady.

The click of the cuff's links sounded, driving the point home that Scott was not supposed to move right now, and Logan's hand stayed right there, keeping him in place as his lover rained down a series of tight hits on his ass, never once in the same place and none of them so hard, Scott had to fear carrying bruises until the end of next week. Which didn’t make it exactly fun, but every time he threw his head back with another strained groan, he could see his partner's unhinged expression in the reflection, the unbridled passion in Logan's rugged features that Scott had never before been allowed to make out down to the last wrinkle around tightly drawn back lips. The light of bone-deep want in those beautiful eyes, the glistening of his lover's sharp teeth in the bright sunlight …

Together with the pleasant flashes of adrenaline from the stinging and burning on his thin skin, Scott was even more turned on instead of less soon, squirming mindlessly against Logan's hold. He only lay still on the desk, panting breathlessly, as his lover reached for the bed and the other tool still waiting there once more. Scott's head was swimming to the point of incoherence at this point, and he was still so painfully hard, he almost expected to be coming right through that damn rope anytime. Unlike the paddle, the Cat-o-Nine, Scott knew from a very drunk encounter with a certain blonde telepath living not far from here, right before Jean and he had been a thing. But nothing he could remember from that night came close to what Logan promised would be the last hits tonight, dealt out with eerie precision to the back of his thighs.

With his lover standing behind him again, Scott was able to watch him sneak one hand into his pants while he worked, the impatience finally getting the better of Logan. Their moans sounded through the room basically as one as Logan was working his cock with firm, artless movements while reddening Scott's skin, visibly on the brink of coming himself.

That made it far easier for Scott to deal with the new thin welts and heat blooming on his skin, the pleasant burning that wandered right to his groin, leaving him shaking so much, it rattled the damn desk. Need hopefully, finally, about to be fulfilled when Logan finally carelessly threw that last toy away and knelt behind Scott to cut that damn rope off him with the precision and care of a glassblower which never once sent even a shiver of unease through Scott's body at that cold metallic sensation so close to most sensitive flesh.

"Proud of you, slut," Logan murmured against his shoulder, leaning over him, the familiar noise of some foil being ripped opening revealing, their surprise bag had contained basic items for the night, too. "Eyes open," he cautioned Scott, no longer that strict, when Scott's eyelids instinctively started to flutter at the slick, warm touch between his reddened cheeks. "Want you to see how hot you are …"

Energy for something as protesting had long left Scott, so he kept his hooded gaze at that mirror, eagerly spreading his legs for his lover further upon another slight slap to the inside of his thigh, broken moans escaping his lips when Logan stretched him open as quickly and efficiently as the last few months had taught him. Then he was there, finally, those stupid pants out of the way at last. And only now, seeing that massive, strong silhouette stand behind his bound and marked body, Scott thought he could get what his lover liked so much about mirrors. Not a thought that could linger for long though, at the wonderful thick pressure breaching him just a second later, his body arching up instantly, new whimpers breaking from his lips when he slumped back down and the damn clamps reminded him he was still very much in the hands of his partner.

Fortunately, Logan had no more intention of making him wait, fucking into him hard and fast, whatever ring he'd used earlier to keep his arousal in check now gone as well. One hand holding Scott in place again by his cuffs, his steel hard cock pistoled in and out of Scott's well-oiled hole, the coarse touch of the hair all over his thighs and loins a delicious sting on Scott's bruises that allowed no instant height which served them both just fine. Only when the noise from Scott's lips grew too desperate, Logan opened his cuffs again and allowed him to reach back, to bury his hands in Logan's hair as strong arms wrapped around his chest, lifting him up easily, Logan whispering gently in his ear that it was alright, that he could let go.

With the angle slightly changed, every thrust now hit the perfect spot, and Scott was coming all over that desk before he knew, writhing on his lover's cock, fucking himself down on it again and again as he emptied himself longer, harder than he could remember in a while.

The almost brutal clench of his muscles sending Logan right into orgasm as well, the well-known hot splash deep inside drew a lustful whimper from Scott, both of them slumping back down on the desk, out of breath. Logan still had half a mind left to reach under Scott and pull off those damn clamps, to softly caress him through the inevitable burn right after, covering his neck in soothing kisses, nestled as closely to him as possible. By the time they were somehow orientated enough to move again, the gag and the leash had found their way to the ground but Logan made it a point, leaving the cuffs and collar on Scott as they snuggled on the mattress stomach to back, and Scott couldn’t find it in him to mind.

They were both dozing off before there could be any more words exchanged, but knowing his lover's very active libido, Scott had no doubt he'd be woken up for round 2 before midnight, so he was entirely alright with that. He had the rest of the night to tell Logan how glad he was that Logan had once more been there a week ago to save him from his own stupidity and help make this crucial, wonderful change in Scott's life possible. For nights like this, it was more than worth it, not giving in to the burden of all this bullshit out there threatening them, the mutant world, the whole world. It was not only thanks to his newfound control over his gift, Scott could see that more clear than ever this night.

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

@scoganbingo

[lunarsands]

ALSMP Fanfic: Wherever These Flowers May Grow Ch 2

Characters: goddess!PearlescentMoon, actual!angel!Sausage, starborne!Scott; reintroducing: floran!Scott and introducing: floran!Sausage, with special guest Empires SMP S2 Joel and a cameo by Origins SMP CaptainSparklez

Relationships: MythicalSausage/Scott Smajor

Tags: Canon Divergent, scosage, fluff

Warnings: Character Death (temporary as usual with this series), a tiny bit of angst

(Sequel to Echoing Through To You, When The Skies Cry, Until The Blood Moon Descends, and Then We’ll Rewrite the Stars)

(Also available on Ao3!)

Summary: Pearl sends Sausage and Scott on a mission to help out on another mortal world different from their old one. Scott finds himself returned to an old set of powers; Sausage gets new ones which, as it turns out, he has some trouble controlling. It’s not exactly a honeymoon trip, but they do meet a nice new godling while there.

[ Chapter One ]

Chapter Two

 When morning arrived, Sausage was surprised by how refreshing it felt to have those first rays of sunlight reach him. It was like going straight from knock-out tired to wide awake. It was no wonder Scott had always been up at the crack of dawn when he had been a floran in the other world. “Mmm, that’s so nice and warm! I don’t even feel like I want breakfast or anything! Maybe a little water, though,” he added thoughtfully, as Scott made the vines lower them to the ground before disassembling the hammock and returning to normal placement.

“We’ll find some on the way,” Scott said, although he was now standing there gazing at him with a dreamy smile.

“What?”

“Umm, nothing. This way.” Scott took his hand, his expression soft, then they started off for the day’s trek. Sausage had a light-hearted smile of his own as he squeezed Scott’s hand, and for a while he stopped worrying about the overgrowth he left behind with each step.

.

A short while later they reached the edge of the mesa, with red sand as far as the eye could see and spires of terracotta rising all around. Sausage ran ahead to see if any greenery would spring up, and sighed loudly in relief when the sand stayed bare. “Hurray! Okay, good, I was worried I was going to cause some kind of floral apocalypse or something!” He laughed nervously.

Scott eyed the sprigs of jungle grass that had suddenly begun to creep out onto the sand toward Sausage. “Don’t count that possibility out just yet…”

Sausage groaned. “Aw, come on, now! I’m still trying my best to not make it happen!”

“We’ll go further away where you won’t get distracted by what is growing, and then I’ll help you figure it out.” Scott took his hand again to drag him away from the jungle’s border, although this time he did so mostly in order to feel out how much power Sausage was leaking into the ground.

It felt much like the light of his halo when Scott had been experiencing the side effects of winter. The man simply radiated rampant energy. He supposed that was all part of his personality, but he would still try to help him get it under control. Maybe it simply needed to be redirected…

“Hey, look, more ruins!” Sausage slipped his hand free as they came around one of the larger spires and ran over to begin investigating. It was the architect in him, Scott thought fondly with a smile. He did give pause, however, when he saw just how big the area of the ruins was once he took a better look around. It appeared as if dozens of colorful if not eroded towers had fallen, with one particularly large building looking like it had been split down the middle.

Scott hurried after him. “Sausage, be careful – this looks old, but the ground could still be unstable.”

“Yeah, I know – but the sand has been filling it in.” Sausage pointed to where the red sand had been blown by the desert winds to pile against the base of the structures and over most of the fallen onion domes as well. They still picked their way through carefully, until they reached a spot where the mesa ended and there was a dip toward gravel and stone.

Scott’s gaze followed the line of a crack going from the mesa out across the empty gray expanse until he saw some other buildings – more towers, which were tilted, white and topped by faded pink domes lined with prismarine. Sausage joined him a moment later; and then a moment after that, some greenery began to poke out of the stone, although it wilted soon after. Scott moved closer to investigate. “Sea grass… This used to be an ocean. If I had to guess, shifting tectonic plates caused it to drain, and affected those towers out there.” He pointed.

“I, ah, don’t think I want to try to go out there and check those ones out. These are enough to explore around in, you know? And this is exactly what we need so I can learn, right?”

“Yeah, it’ll do. And if we want to check your progress, we can come back here to see how much sea grass you accidentally summon.” He smiled teasingly while Sausage grumbled.

They returned to the ruins and chose a space away from any gaps in the ground. Scott clapped his hands together. “Okay, we’ll start with focusing on what you can already grow on yourself. Put out your hand and think about growing a fern frond on your palm.”

“That sounds weird.”

“…Imagine you’re holding a feather,” Scott suggested, realizing that floran logic might not immediately help.

Sausage held out a hand then pinched his fingers together. A small frond grew, winding its way up between his thumb and index finger. He grinned. “Hey, it worked!”

“Good. Think about it falling off – drop the feather.”

Sausage opened his fingers but the frond stayed. He pinched it again, giving himself the mental image of a feather, then tried turning his hand downward to ‘drop’ it. When it continued to remain attached, he shook his hand rapidly. “I mean… I’m not used to consciously dropping feathers when they’re attached to my wings. They molt on their own.”

Scott moved closer and clasped the fern-bearing hand. “I’m going to try something. Let me know if this hurts.” He grasped the middle of the fern and mentally asked it to let go, as if it was the same as one planted in dirt. The stem separated from Sausage’s hand. Scott held the frond up with an inquiring look.

“Nope, didn’t hurt. I barely felt that. What, uh, does that mean if I grow something else?”

“I think you’ll need to ask it to remove itself.”

“But… you didn’t say anything.”

“Not out loud. I think it, and the thought reaches the plant through floran energies.”

“What.”

“Like you pulling a flaming sword out of thin air. Or, I assume that’s how that works. You ask it to appear.”

“That’s more like reaching into extra pocketspace.”

“Oh. Hmm…” Scott tried to think of what else to compare it to. “Well, like Pearl calling on you from the other side of the realm, and you do what she says because of that connection.”

“Huh. Okay. I guess I’ll try it out.”

.

They spent the day practicing, with Sausage serving as the only surface for plants to grow on, ranging from producing more of the same type of flowers he already had in his hair to summoning whole other ones. Scott was relieved that nothing grew out of control; he wouldn’t want Sausage to end up completely covered in blossoms or foliage.

When the afternoon began to wane, they moved to poke around the ruins a bit, looking for a stable piece of architecture to shelter under for the night. They chose one of the smaller onion domes that was laying on its side with only a minimal drift of sand blocking the opening. Scott was starting to miss the feeling of dirt under his feet, but it was necessary to remain there for a little longer. If it ended up bothering him too much, he figured they could always head back to the jungle.

“Meh. Sand in my fronds,” Sausage grumbled as he tried to get comfortable laying on his back. “Nope. Hammock was better.” He huffed in annoyance and rolled over onto his stomach, putting his face down on his arms. Then, muffled: “Nope. Sand in my mouth.”

Scott laughed quietly. He waved a hand over his arm repeatedly, growing a long strip of moss. He removed it then folded it up into the approximation of a square. “Here. Use a pillow. It will dry out by morning, but it’s better than planting your face in the ground.”

“That sounds like some kind of nature horror stuff that I don’t even want to think about, oh no.” Sausage pushed himself up to sit back on his knees, then accepted the improvised pillow. “Thanks. I guess I should try doing that?” he asked, watching Scott fold up another one.

“Mm, maybe after more practice. You might end up making a whole blanket. I don’t think I want to spend more than one night out here, anyway. Florans rest better with soil nearby.”

“Oh. Is that why I feel kinda itchy? And not from the sand in my fronds.” He twitched his shoulders as if to shake off the annoying grains.

“Ah, so you did notice. I was wondering if you would, since you aren’t used to everything florans experience.”

Sausage yawned. The sky outside was steadily darkening. “You’ll have to tell me in the morning…” He settled onto his side, snuggling his head against the moss pillow. “Oh, yeah, this is much better… Good night!”

~*~

Sunrise woke them, and although the warm light was streaming into the dome unfettered, something was making a rhythmic tink, tink noise off of it. Sausage wandered over to the opening and poked his head out, peering upward. “Uh, Scott? It’s raining.”

The other floran was rubbing the sleep from his eyes and didn’t quite catch on. “Huh? But it doesn’t rain in mesas…”

“There is exactly one cloud. Right above us. And... I think… someone is standing on it.”

That got Scott’s attention. He came over to look, squinting upward. “If we’re florans, then it makes sense for others with powers to be here. Might be a subtype of thunderborn.”

A voice called down to them, “Did someone say thunder?” The cloud grew darker and lightning crackled along the underside. A small boom of thunder followed. The two ducked back into the dome, just in case.

The cloud lowered into view, but the figure standing upon it was much taller than even the dome, so only the legs and bottom of a short chiton could be seen. Sandaled feet stepped off onto the sand, then the person leaned over to look inside. “How’s it goin’, fellas?” A face with brown eyes and a green stripe in dark hair grinned in at them. “Hello, I’m Joel, local thunder god. Thought I’d check in on things. Although, yuck, standing on the ground is weird. Also, this hurts my neck, so why don’t you come out here and we’ll have a chat.”

The two florans glanced at each other, then Sausage took Scott’s hand and led the way out. The godling sat down on the cloud as if to not tower over them too much. Scott smiled with some amusement as Sausage fell right back into his old habit of putting himself in front of potential danger first, despite Scott being the more experienced floran.

Joel looked at their clasped hands. “Well, isn’t that kind of cute. I heard you’re the new nature sprites in town.”

“Florans, actually,” Scott corrected. “We’re only here to help.”

Joel muttered under his breath, “Doesn’t look like you’re doing much to me.” Then, louder, he said, “So, what’s the plan for here? Were you going to turn this into some kind of oasis? I could probably help out, too. You need more water? It looks like you might need water. Since, to my knowledge, plants need that to grow.”

Sausage let go of Scott’s hand and rubbed the back of his neck, realizing they had possibly been wasting time while he struggled to get a handle on things. “Well, we really only came out here because I’m more powerful than we expected.”

Joel raised an eyebrow. “Wow, that’s very humble of you to say.”

Sausage bristled. “Hey, I can’t help it! I used to be a seraph before we got here! Very powerful angels, if you didn’t know!”

“Right, right… So, what are your names, so that I’m not calling you ‘Floran One’ and ‘Floran Two’?”

“I’m Sausage, this is Scott. He was a starborne. Y’know, also powerful, moving the stars themselves—”

“Yeah, I know about those. I remember getting complaints from them when we blocked up the sky at night while they were trying to help sailors navigate. As if they were above us, when we control the actual atmosphere.”

The florans traded looks again, mutually uncertain about the pronoun change. “A-Anyway,” Sausage stammered, “I needed some practice first, then we were going to get to work.”

Scott eyed the cloud. “Although, now that you’ve mentioned it, some extra rain wouldn’t hurt. We’re supposed to do some terraforming, too, and if we’re going to transform barren areas, that means rerouting rivers.”

Joel chuckled once. “Part of us thinks you aren’t meant to turn the entire planet into a lush paradise. That part would be me, with my own opinions. Deserts and mesas still have their purpose. I think this world’s overseer meant to fix the broken parts, or heal over the scars in the land – whatever way you want to phrase it – with your piteous floran powers. You’d never be as powerful as me, after all, but I can’t be bothered keeping track of how much rain each type of flower needs. But this particular place is only suffering from regular time and erosion. Like you say, a little extra water could change that. I can show you some really ugly spots.”

“Now who’s being humble,” Sausage muttered.

“Maybe just point us in the right direction,” Scott suggested. “Then we can fix up anything we happen to find on the way, and come back around if you decide to, say, dump a ton of rain over here.”

“I suppose I could do that. If you go back the way you came, on the other side of that jungle you were in, there are some uninhabitable plains to the west and then some mountains to the southeast of there. You’ll know them when you see them.”

Scott gave pause. “Wait, you’ve been watching us since the jungle?”

“Yeah, that’s where we first saw you walking around.”

Sausage blurted out, “Who is we?”

“Um. Rude.” Joel scoffed. “Never you mind.” He did, however, look uncomfortable for a second. “Anyway, I think it’s time to be getting to work. Don’t have all day to fix up a planet, and you’ve got some walking to do. I’m sure you plant-types aren’t interested in flying anywhere. I mean, you might fall through the cloud, and then what would I do?”

Sausage’s bottom lip wobbled, and Scott thought he might start some sobbing theatrics about his loss of wings, so he pushed his partner toward the far side of the dome. “Yeah, we’ll be on our way. Nice to meet you, I guess.”

Joel stood and waved as the cloud lifted up into the sky. He then zipped off, apparently not following through on the promise of rain.

“Weather gods. Right,” Sausage commented flatly.

“Don’t tell me that gave you flashbacks, too?”

“I couldn’t control rain, so not really.” Sausage flicked the fronds hanging close to his neck. “Let’s go. I’ll do some practicing on the way. I have a sudden urge to make myself useful.”

“You’re not going to let what he said get to you, are you? I honestly don’t think he was trying to rub it in. He barely knows anything about us. He’s probably used to lording over mortals. And we don’t really count as those, right?” Scott grinned and nudged him in the side with his elbow. “And now that you’ve got the hang of summoning whatever flowers you want, we can do what we love best – arranging a garden.”

Sausage smiled at him in response.

They casually made the journey back over the sands. When they neared the border Scott tilted his head a little, squinting with uncertainty. He jogged the rest of the way, then halted.

A lot more foliage had crept out onto the sand.

“Whoops…” Sausage put a hand to the back of his head. “Eh-heh. The plants really are going to keep coming to me.”

“Call this a field test, I guess.” Scott sighed, hoping all the practice had helped. He gestured for Sausage to walk ahead.

The other stepped over onto the actual dirt, a tentative look on his face. A small bit of the grass grew taller around his foot, but shrank back to normal height when he lifted it. He gave Scott a hopeful grin, then put a finger to his lips. “Shh, I need to think.”

Scott smiled with a brief chuckle and nodded. They set off again, with Sausage leaving minimal disruption in his wake this time. Scott decided the growth at the mesa’s edge must have happened overnight while Sausage was asleep and couldn’t consciously keep hold of the power he sent into the ground.

They should probably stick to spending nights in a tree for the time being.

.

By the next day they reached the other side of the jungle, emerging into the area that they had seen from the treetop and, presumably, was the one Joel had indicated. The soil was desiccated, most of the ground appearing gray, although it wasn’t all stone. The chasms littering the area were intimidating up close, but they cautiously investigated. With Sausage holding onto his arm for an extra anchor, Scott leaned over the side to get a look at what they were dealing with.

“Hey, so—remember how you said this looked like a lot of lava? That’s… not lava down there.”

“What else would it be?”

“I think it’s liquid redstone.”

“Okay… What do we do about that?”

Scott moved away from the edge and contemplated the distance between that particular chasm and where the jungle ended. “Well, you’ve learned to limit your power. Let’s see what happens when you cut loose. We can use roots to break through this tough ground and see if it will fill these in, burying all the redstone. We’ll probably end up with like a bunch of ditches in the process. But let’s start with one of them at time.”

He motioned for Sausage to follow him. He made sure they were within the boundary of the jungle before going to the closest tree. He waved his hand down the base of it and out over the grass. He kept his hand out as he turned to the ruined land. The ground started to buckle. He raised his hand slightly and the end of the root broke the surface so he could show Sausage what he was causing to happen. He then lowered his hand, and the root burrowed back into the soil.

Scott moved to line his arm up with the nearest chasm. The line of buckling soil continued to move until it reached the edge of the chasm. Scott flicked his hand sharply, then whipped it back and forth. They could hear the cracking sounds as the root thrashed, breaking off pieces of stone that tumbled down into the chasm. The light from the river of redstone was peppered with shadows as the debris landed in it.

Scott paused, waiting to see if that would accidentally set off some kind of adverse reaction, but after a moment the light went back to a solid glow. He smiled over at Sausage.

The former seraph rubbed his hands together. “Alright, let’s see!” He put both arms out, palms pointed at two different trees, then he thrust his arms forward. Scott nearly lost his balance as the ground heaved. Multiple raised lines appeared, speeding out across the ruined land. With a rumble, the affected roots burst upward out of one side of the chasm and shot across to the other, destroying the top edge in one pass. Sausage yanked his arms backward, and in a messy array the roots turned around, punching down into the next level of stone then back across the chasm.

He repeated the motions several times, wearing away that section and causing neighboring spots to start crumbling.

Scott summoned up a different root, making it grow to lift him up higher so he could watch the progress, leaning over the boundary of the jungle. Within minutes the glow from the redstone river had dimmed.

Sausage crowed with laughter. “This is fun! It’s kind of like unleashing holy fire! I think I’m getting the hang of this power even better this way!” He twisted one hand through the air and two of the roots zigzagged across the far ends of the chasm, completing the collapse. It was still going to be a hazardous gap in the ground, but now they knew they had an effective way of filling it in.

They could work on leveling out the land after the rest of the chasms were dealt with. One by one, they directed roots to break up the soil and stone. Scott tried coaxing several at a time, but he couldn’t compete with the dozens Sausage could manipulate. That certainly made things go faster, so he wasn’t about to complain.

After a point they needed to stop and prepare a spot for the night. Scott had Sausage stay on the border of the ruined land and simply stand there while grass began to work its way into the tough soil toward him. The much smaller roots would break it up enough to allow water to permeate the ground later. Maybe Joel would happen to come by and help speed that up. Scott couldn’t tell if there would be regular rainfall here or if it was like the mesa.

He made some vines form another hammock. The thought did occur to him that spending the night out in the center of the ruined land could also speed things up, although maybe only after they were sure the ground was stable enough.

~*~

The next two days were spent wearing down the sides of the chasms until all of them were reduced to sloping furrows. They continued to work with the roots to loosen and rearrange the ground until the area more resembled rolling hills, sans greenery. By the third day Scott deemed it safe to sleep out in the middle of it. He crafted sleeping mats out of woven vines with moss pillows again while Sausage practiced making a shelter out of available large tree roots, eventually shaping a decent lean-to.

They awoke to the sound of rain, although the ground closest to them was only getting wet because of stray raindrops. Peeking out, they saw a very precise circle of clouds leaving them with a little island, since the tough soil wasn’t absorbing the water as quickly as regular dirt, even with their efforts to break it up.

Joel swooped down on a white cloud, stark against the dark storm clouds. “Nice work, fellas. You made some decent progress. I’ll leave this here for a while. Maybe you’ll get a new stream from it. See you later!”

Just like that he was off, cutting upward through the storm clouds. They closed up after him.

Sausage looked around at the growing puddles. “Should we go somewhere else and come back later?”

“I think we take the day off. Or at least take a passive role. Come on, sit back down.” Scott held a hand out toward him after returning to his mat. Sausage hesitated, eager to keep working, but when Scott beckoned, he came over and took his hand, kissing his knuckles before sitting down beside him. Scott put his arm around Sausage’s shoulders, gently hugging him against his side. “We might get a little sleepy from lack of sunlight so it’s okay to take it easy. Not that we couldn’t travel to some place where it isn’t raining, but, y’know, we did a lot of work the past few days.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“You’re always so restless,” Scott said affectionately. “You can think about spreading the grass toward us. That will help, too.”

“Hm-m. Okay.” Sausage peered out at the rain, picturing the edge of the jungle in the distance, then closed his eyes before drawing in a breath. He spread his hands out flat, as if smoothing a blanket. “I’m thinking about a carpet of grass over this whole area.” He held the pose for several seconds, then opened one eye to take a look.

“It’s not going to happen that fast. You’re not that powerful.”

“I know,” Sausage said in a sulking tone. “I just thought I’d try.” He laid down with his head on Scott’s lap, twig halo pressing into his hair. “I kind of want to get this done fast so we can go home, but at the same time I kind of want that home to be Heaven’s Reach? Pearl’s realm is nice and all, and also like home, but I still miss our home. This world has to have a place that looks like that, so maybe it’s better to stay here longer until we find it, and we could do a little something special to make it look like Heaven’s Reach, and it would be our mark on this world. A personal mark, not just what we’ve done to fix things.”

“We could do that…” Scott smiled down at him and traced a fingertip over the swirl pattern now making up his scar.

Sausage smiled softly back at him. “That storm god mentioned some mountains. Maybe we’ll find a place there.”

~*~

The rain tapered off shortly before sunset, so the two florans only took a quick walk around to check progress. The former chasms were now small ponds, but it would still take a little more time for greenery to reach them. Sausage was happy to see that the grass had actually advanced over the past day and he repeated his blanket-spreading ritual before they settled down again for the night.

The next morning, they decided to let the plants do their thing without extra help and set out to find the mountains Joel had suggested to them. Given the direction he had said they were in, Sausage and Scott figured he didn’t mean the mountain range that was at the far side of the area they were currently in.

Along the way they patched up any rough spots, calling up new growth where it looked like the greenery was struggling, and they used tree roots again to burrow around in search of more accessible water tables. They sprinkled around biome-appropriate flowers and improved the flow of streams where mud and gravel had spilled across interrupting the water’s path.

They came upon a set of cliffs with some type of ruins having fallen to the bottom when the top ledge had given way. It wasn’t as massive as the mesa ruins, but they did find a pit full of amethyst crystal shards, already partially buried by a landslide. They decided to cover it up some more so that a future explorer might dig it up later and get a shiny surprise.

Continuing on their way, they found traces of colorful stone along what might have been a road at one time. There were signs of an earthquake that became more apparent the closer to the mountains they got, until they had to start climbing over large chunks of rock that had clearly fallen down the mountain slopes.

Even though the temperature was dropping, they pressed onward to find out why Joel had singled out this place when it honestly looked like simple, normal erosion had been in play again. Their first clue was streaks of a red substance on the ground that wasn’t like the liquid redstone. Inspection revealed it to be some type of soil, but nothing was growing on it despite it cutting through regular grassy areas. In fact, when Sausage tried coaxing some grass onto it, the grass shriveled and died.

Scott glanced up ahead past a rise in the path. “Whoa.” He tugged on Sausage’s arm and jogged over the rocky hump. Before them, laid across several peaks and shallow valleys, were whole swaths of the red soil, along with the blackened scars of cooled lava flows.

Sausage studied the landscape. “I think we’re going to have to get some trees up here first before we can even begin to tackle this one. Any ideas for the red stuff? Do you think if I stand on it long enough it will become normal dirt?”

“You could try. Just don’t get hurt by it. I’m really not sure what that is, but it’s obviously preventing the land from healing itself. From the looks of this basalt, it should have been long enough for the grass to spread. There doesn’t seem to be a caldera, so this came from fissures, and had to have happened decades ago. I’m going to look around some more.”

“Okay! I’ll be right over here. Standing.” Sausage walked onto a grassy area, purposely leaking power so the grass would grow around his footsteps to make sure it responded, then he chose a block of red to stand on. It was about half a minute before he got antsy and started walking along the whole line of strange soil instead.

Scott explored for a while, taking in the extent of the damage. There did seem to be a concentration of the substance in one particular area, and below it was evidence of a large lava flow that had gone all the way down that side of the mountains. He returned to the other area and crouched down, placing his hand against the ground to get a sense if any plant life might have a memory of the fissures. What he got instead was a flash of extremely powerful magic that had been released, leaving an impression like a shockwave. It wasn’t what had caused the eruption or the corrupted soil – as the plants now told him it was called – but that magic had put a stop to the spread.

There was then a… silence, as if all life in the area had been temporarily quelled, and the plants had only resumed their existence – unfrozen, as it were – when the world itself began to breathe again.

Scott contemplated what that meant as he headed back to where he left Sausage.

“Hey, Scott! Look! It’s woorrrkiiiiing!”

The red around where he had been walking seemed to leech away, replaced by blue-green soil instead, and even a bit of grass had begun to grow at the edges. “Maybe I should give that a try,” Scott mused. He stepped onto the next nearest line of corrupted soil and walked back and forth, thinking about it turning blue-green.

After a few minutes nothing changed, whereas more of the spots around Sausage had done so. The former seraph halted and shrugged. “I guess it’s a ‘me’ thing. You could maybe work on something different? There’s a valley over there that looks okay. You could get a flower field going.”

Scott debated on what he wanted to do. “I’ll see what I can do with the basalt patches. It might be easier for me to get roots to start breaking it up than to do what you’re doing. And we should go collect some pinecones from the trees further down. I think it would be fine to sleep on the ground here, but we’ll still need some shelter for the night.”

“I’ll go get them! You see what you can do, then we can make a plan of attack!”

By the time Sausage returned, Scott had covered most of the basalt lines with a thin layer of grass. He hadn’t touched the ones in the spot with the biggest concentration of corrupted soil, choosing to leave it for another day – or even for an overnight campsite after they got the trees set in place.

“Let’s start them in that valley and after they’ve produced more pinecones, we can spread them out.” Scott took a few from him. He tossed one up into the air and neatly caught it, smiling. “This part shouldn’t take long.”

 [ Chapter Three ]

[wolfverse-stories]

Magneto's Kids

Chapter 2

     Everything had gone wrong. This was suppose to be a quick mission, in and out. However, no one had planned for the walls to be made out of power dampeners.

     "Watch out!!!!" Scott called pulling Jean out of the way of a large guard about to knock her out.

     "Erik take Peter and Hank and open the cells!" Charles yelled. All Erik could think of was Pietro and Wanda 'I have to make it out for their sake'.

     "Come on!" Erik struggled to open the cages, his powers were so weak he could barely break one lock. Peter was rushing around with a key he had grabbed and unlocked as many cages as he could.

     "Almost done" Peter called darting over to another cell. Suddenly he lost control of his feet and went crashing into Erik.

     "All you do is mess everything up!!!" Erik snapped as he pushed himself off the ground.

    "Sorry" Peter looked down before going back to free the caged mutants. Erik was taken aback by the response. He expected Peter to make some sort of smart remark but the silver-haired mutant remained quiet.

Timeskip

     Erik grinned as Alex managed to knock out one of the power-dampening walls. Peter had regained some of his speed though he was only able to reach the speed of a cheetah which was extremely slow for him.

     "That's better," Erik said raising small pieces of metal and starting to through the guards. Hank looked over to see a plastic gun pointed at Erik's chest.

     "Erik!!!" Erik realized there was no way he could dodge the bullet. He had promised Wanda and Pietro he would be fine. They were supposed to meet up tomorrow for dinner, but now that would never happen. 'I'm sorry Erik closed his eyes and waited but the pain never came. He slowly opened his eyes and looked up to see silver hair.

     "Peter?" Erik watched in horror as the young mutant fell to his knees, blood soaking his silver jacket. Erik rushed forward pulling Peter into his lap.

     "Magneto?" Peter's eyes widened in surprise as he saw Erik's face. He doesn't remember ever seeing Erik show any other emotion than anger, most of the time he has a face of stone but now he could clearly see fear.

     "It's me Peter" Erik pressed his hand over the wound to stop the bleeding.

     "Guess I messed things up again" Peter let out a weak laugh that turned into a painful coughing fit. Erik winced at the bitter statement. Peter felt his eyelids getting heavy

     "I need you to stay awake," Erik said shaking Peter "Come on buddy is there someone I need to contact?"

    "My mom kicked me out" Peter's words come out raspy as he fights for air.

     "What about your dad?" When Peter doesn't answer Erik searches Peter's eyes 'Please let this kid have a dad'.

     "He's already here" Peter gave Erik a weak smile. Erik's eyes widen as realization finally hit him (Raven: "Finally!").

     "I'm so sorry" Erik started to sob " I should have been there" pulling peter close to his chest. 'Why do I cause all my children such great pain'.

     "Hey, no sweat I love you, dad..." Peter trailed off as his eyes start to close.

     "Peter!!!" Erik screamed trying to keep him awake. That was the last thing Peter heard as he drifted into darkness.

Timeskip

     Peter slowly opened his eyes to the bright white light. Immediately he retreated under the covers.

     "Am I dead?" Peter asked using the blanket to shield his eyes from the blinding light.

     "No son" Erik smiled as he hugged Peter. Erik looked like he hadn't slept in days, he refused to sleep until he knew his son was okay.

     "I promise from now on I'm going to be a better father" 'to all my kids' Erik added to himself.

     "You don't have to," Peter said looking down "I don't want you to fill like your forced to"

     "But I want to," Erik said putting a hand on Peter's shoulder. Erik refused to leave Peter's room until he was completely better. He would tell him stories and play card games which Peter always cheated at.

     "Hey, I knew I had a queen," Erik said pulling it out of Peter's sleeve.

     "Oops, how did that get there?" Peter laughed. Erik rolled his eyes before looking at the clock "Okay kid time for bed"

     "I love you, dad," Peter said as he started to dose off.

     "I love you too," Erik said as he kissed Peter's forehead. Suddenly Erik felt his blood go cold as realization hit him "Wanda's going to kill me"

Prev. / Next

[idontknowreallywhy]

Ghost

Swiping the financial report closed Scott sighed in relief. It had taken three days but unless anything unexpected happened, he was just about up to date. If you didn’t count the IR paperwork for the GDF but hopefully Casey would give him a few days grace on that… right now they’d only read “arrived, did our job, left” and he suspected rather more detail might be appreciated.

How had Dad kept on top of it all? Surely he’d have managed it better? Eight years on and Scott still didn’t feel up to the job. He suddenly felt so very, very young and yet simultaneously so very old and tired.

He looked down at the desk and goosebumps prickled down his spine. He leapt up from the chair, suddenly unable to remain seated. He’d sat there for longer than his father ever had, that milestone had passed a couple of years back. Yet it was still unarguably Dad’s Desk.

He squashed down the flash of desperation that threatened to overwhelm him. This line of thought was counter-productive. Virgil would point out, again, that IR was completing far more missions than they ever had in Dad’s time, and that under Scott’s control Tracy Industries had expanded considerably. He wasn’t failing to do the same juggling act his father had always performed, he was just using heavier clubs. Some of which were on fire.

His brother sure had a way with a metaphor. He looked over at the piano with affection. The musician was in full musicking mode, in his own world, headphones on, fingers dancing across the keys and humming to himself. Scott wasn’t sure he’d heard him play this one before… it was… pretty, but a little sad. Kind of haunting. He was sure he knew it from somewhere and it was going to bug him… he wouldn’t interrupt though. Leaning down he pulled up the website that would identify a piece of music from an audio clip, Scott pressed record and waited. It took a while, because Virg had clearly hit a tricky moment and stumbled over a passage before repeating it a couple of times more slowly.

Eventually he got back into the groove and the requisite track popped up. “Ghosts” huh? Ha, how appropriate. His brother’s heart-melting baritone floated above the relentless piano, wordless. Little brother never seemed to notice the lyrics, preferring to focus on the shape of the melody to convey the story. His big brother took a more conventional approach to knowing what it was about and clicked through to the lyrics page. He read them through, his brow furrowed. The goosebumps retuned.

His knees buckled and he sank to the floor, unable to support the weight of his long-buried grief.

Resting his cheek on the seat of the chair, on the ghost of his father’s knee, he listened to Virgil unknowingly sing out his big brother’s pain.

🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵

Now and then

My mind drifts to a place where I find you

Lost in my head

There are unsolved feelings that haunt me

It's too late to heal, I'll lay them to rest

If I could bring you back

There are truths and confessions I'd tell you

I'd set things straight

And I believe that you would love and forgive me

I know it's too late, I need to let go

And how can I move on

When everyone I see still talks about you?

How can I move on

When all the best things I have we built together?

Here's to letting go

But I am trapped in a void with your ghost and our memories

Lest we forget the great reset

(Muse / Matt Bellamy)

[a-pretty-damn-good-narrator]

"I'M SORRY THEY WHAT!"

In all of the hundreds of races, they were the least deadly. While this was true the reason they were the least deadly was because they were a threat to only ONE species, us

We're allergic to their pheromones. They don't know it but it's lethal to even exist nearby. No one believes us when we say we physically can't stand next to one or we die, but it's the case.

Within minutes the judge died of a seizure, everyone went into panic trying to find out what was causing it. Autopsy showed that it was a sudden bodily reaction to a substance that stated to actively eat away at the body. They didn't believe us when we said it was their pheromones, no one did.

Every time one was appointed they died before the hearing could be said, sooner or later they gave up putting a human there. And instead put down a Wardlot instead. What made it worse was that this happened again.

Each time one of those "Firs" are elected they are always seated next to us. We lost over 80% of our voice in the civil due to them in a year. Soon we had enough.

All the humans, recently appointed and not, stood in the center of council. Everyone there was confused but simply thought they had a valid point to make.

They survived coronation, the intro, and the recent problem. I, one of those who didn't have an electric chair, stated a great case in favor of the Treyors having the ability to have FEDR rights like the rest of us. If we didn't have such a voice they wouldn't be such a great community as they are right now.

They then brought up the question of why everyone is in the middle of the council and not sitting with everyone else. I had one thing to say.

"When we sat, we died. When we stand, we live."

They did understand that, yes, the only thing they changed was us leaving our seats and we seemed to be alive. They did note that something else could be afloat.

"Ok. We planned for this. Get 20 human subjects and have them STAND infront of our seats"

They abliged. They brought out 20 subjects and put them at our seats, having them stand there... 16 of them died. All of which were next to the Firs; not at the same time, but owe close to one and another. Coroners came up with the same problem, "Anaphylactic Shock" or immune system collapse.

"Damning, ain't it? They all died of the same 2 causes the others did and we've been saying they it's their pheromones"

The council leader said it could have been something else

"Ok. Ms. Dræs of the first, stand at my chair please"

She walks over, passing by another person as they stand next to the test subject at my chair. Both die, one right after the other, of the same problems.

"Like I told you. DAMNING"

The council leader disagreed, saying it could be calone

"Agree just showered and they don't use "Calone" sir"

CL said that it couldn't be pheromones because it works simply be to dumb to be that of all things.

"We've ran hundreds of tests and did one live for you right here! Do I need to show you my desperation!? Or do you just want...."

"You just want me to die"

CL panicked. It only made sense why he wanted us dead, we're the only threat to their kind so if they got rid of us they'd be scott free.

"You want humans to die, you're the one in control of seating charts, you put them specifically next to us and make a big deal and everything to make it happen"

Everyone suddenly looked. They were confused why to beleive. The all trusting and powerful CL or the humans who just called on their BS.

Beleive or not we found a cure... for the Firs. Sure to the FDRS we had we were able to check his notes, diary, abode, everything; DAMNING evidence of him trying to kill us off, planning this all, and even convincing the Firs they they had to take a pill to enter everything.

Reverse engineering the pill at found out that it alters the DNA, making the Firs become walking poison gas clouds for humans. He used chemical warfare on us.

More evidence proves that the whole society approved of this, so much research and supplies. Galactic rule says we can either commit legal genocide or, what we choose, lethal slavery is the whole race. We know better than to kill them all.

This actually ended well for anyone. They never got much coverage or laws for then so then becoming ours was great! Some of the humans even like them allot, maybe to much. Me? I got to keep the old CL on a leash. I know it's a bad look for me but damn what be must feel would be shit.

We shall got a lot more credit. We are known for making shit up occasionally but finally they understood where we take pranks to and created a whole chart for determining if it's a prank or not.

The Firs did better too, so did humans. Neither of us had any weaknesses and we created a federation together

There is only one alien race that humans fear; a race that can send them into a panic almost immediately. It just so happens that race was voted the most harmless in the universe. One was recently voted a seat in the intergalactic council next to the human judge, who was silently shaking.

[percontaion-points]

Client No 5 chapters 21 & 22

This book review contains discussions of sw; reader discretion is advised

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 21

“Too tired from fucking other men to talk to your boyfriend?” The sneer was unmistakable now. He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.

Literally every single thing about this relationship has been nothing but a mistake. 

“Unlike you, I have the ability to detach emotionally during sex.”

That’s not something to brag about, honey. 

Yes, I’m on Ally’s side in this because Scott’s being shitty. But at the same time… what a weird hill to choose. 

“Like what, Ally? It’s a pretty big fucking elephant staring us in the face, waving its trunk around under my nose.” 

AN ELEPHANT THAT YOU SAID YOU WERE OKAY WITH. YOU DON’T SUDDENLY GET TO CHANGE YOUR MIND AND START TRYING TO CONTROL HER NOW THAT YOUR HOLIDAY IS OVER. 

“I’m sorry, Ally, but I’m not going through another night like tonight. If you’re not going to stop working, then I can’t do this.” 

There. He’d said it. We’d both been thinking it, but I hadn’t been brave enough to say it out loud. We were over. 

“Fine. Then I guess we’re done.”

Since we had to be subjected to this shitty relationship, them breaking up is the best thing to happen so far.

“I love you, Ally.” 

My head snapped up and glared at him. That wasn’t part of the deal. I wanted to feel needed, desired. I needed to fuck my loneliness and inadequacy away. I’d never wanted love. 

“Don’t!” I warned. 

“I’m trying to help you,” he murmured between grunts. “Plain old fucking isn’t going to heal you.”

And he thinks that her pimp confessing his love for her is somehow going to make things better?

With the small piece of technical freedom in my pocket, I walked home and let myself inside. Walking in the crisp air had really cleared my mind and I knew what I had to do.

Chapter 21 summary: When Ally gets home, she finally answers her phone. Scott had been calling non-stop the entire 4 hours that she’d been gone; guess he doesn’t know how to take a hint. 

Anyway, they get into a huge fight that eventually ends with him demanding that she stop working. And obviously since she refuses to do that (which was pretty much the only clause that she had in the relationship), he says that this is the end of their relationship. She hangs up, but when he calls back a second later, she chucks it at the wall.

She storms out and goes over to Todd’s apartment. (There’s a random aside about how he hasn’t seen Zach since finding out what Todd and Ally do for a living, but that’s so quickly forgotten about. Plus, Zach hasn’t been thought of since the incident that even I forgot about it.) Then they start to fuck. Todd tells Ally that he loves her, but it doesn’t exactly make things better. 

After Ally finishes, she walks back home. And as she’s going, she thinks about how shitty her life is. Yes, she did choose to be an escort, but it was mainly done after a guy cheated on her. And she’s mainly tired of being broken. 

Chapter 22

“No! This isn’t about Scott. It’s about me. I’m not happy with my life, Jamie. I thought I could fuck my problems away, but it never works. I’m sick of using Todd as my crutch, he deserves better than that, and so do I.”

I have to give this book some credit: at least she’s not changing herself because of a guy. The desire to change actually came from within. 

“You know I’m here to help when you need me. But the way you deal with your pain isn’t good for you. Maybe you should see a therapist or something.” 

That’s rich coming from the guy who encouraged her to become an escort, and then became her pimp. 

 I didn’t need a man. I was creating a new life all on my own. But that didn’t stop me from missing him.

Chapter 22 summary: The next morning, Jamie comes out to find Ally packing up her things and reading through the housing section of the paper. The two of them get into a little fight about Ally’s sudden desire to find greener pastures. Despite Ally’s insistence that she’s doing this for herself, Jamie thinks Scott has something to do with this. 

She calls Zach on a new phone, and then goes to see Todd. He’s kind of upset over his “best girl” leaving him in the lurch, but eventually realises that it’s not like she woke up and said “I don’t want to be an escort anymore!” Her psyche is damaged beyond repair, to the point where Todd even pointed out that she should see a therapist. He hugs her and wishes her the best of luck.

She meets up with her brother later at a restaurant. They don’t really talk about what happened when he’d confronted her. But she says that she’s decided to stop being an escort for her own mental health, and is trying to break away from everything. But in order to do that, she needs a new place. He’s been living with their mom, so the two of them decide to move in together. 

As they finish loading up a moving van, Amy is there and hugs Ally goodbye. Zach is weird around Amy, which makes Ally ask exactly why he’s so weird. He finally confesses that he’d hired an escort, and it happened to be Amy. Whom he’d previously met at a party earlier in the book. Amy told him everything, which is how he found out about Todd and Ally. Ally calls him out on his hypocrisy, since he hired an escort for sex, yet was angry at Todd and Ally for being professional escorts. 

A while later, Ally goes to the gym to cancel her membership, since she doesn’t have a job anymore. The guy there says that if she’s looking for work, he’s looking for new gym employees since half of his team jumped ship to a new branch gym in Philly recently. Ally could start off by being an assistant and cleaning stuff while she undergoes her trainer certification. Ally jumps at the chance, with the idea that she could build a career from this.