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can we get Duchess reader yearning for a baby of her own đ„ș imagine there was a Ball in the neighboring kingdom and Duchess!Reader and Duke!Price was invited, celebrating the birth of the Kingdomâs new heir, a baby boy on her fellow Duchessâs arms.
And reader coos at the baby while masking the deep ache in her heart thinking that itâll be so impossible to have a baby with her husband due to him and his lovers đą
cue to Duchess!Reader having a heavy heart through out the entire event and even the days after that, until one of our boys asks her what wrong.
(And John having to hold Johnny back bc that nasty dog has been waiting to get his paws on her since forever)
Oh my god yes??? Anon i could smooch your brain right now yes??? This is so good i love it. Sorry for the abrupt ending though, had no idea how to finish it off đ
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âSuch an adorable little one,â you coo softly, the newborn held delicately and carefully in your arms, swaddled in the baby blue blankets you and John had bought among your other gifts for your fellow Duke and Duchess. âHe looks so much like you, Iâm in awe.â
Your friend laughs lightly, sipping on her drink. With a soft sigh, she leans closer towards you. The party is in full swing, so many other nobles mingling and networking, but thankfully you and your friend have your own little corner for now and everyone has already congratulated her and her husband.
âSo,â she begins, her eyes flickering towards where both of you twoâs husbands are speaking. The smiles on their faces are clearly happy, though you arenât surprised; John had mentioned that heâs already friends with the Duke during the carriage ride. âSo. What about you and Duke Price, hm? Any surprises we should prepare for?â
Ah. You had been dreading this.
You sigh, shaking your head. Though the smile returns as you gaze at the napping baby, so small and precious in your arms. With you friendâs permission, you gently kiss his tiny little fists. âNot at all. We are happy as we are.â
And itâs not as if you are lying by any means, oh no. You are happy. Life as Duchess was far, far much better than you had expected itâd be, a lot less restrictive than you had prepared for it to be.
ButâŠ
You canât lie to yourself. Youâve been feeling a sense of discontent from the very second you stepped into the gala venue. Perhaps for even longer, though it hadnât been especially felt until this moment. Not until you held this baby in your arms.
You want a baby, too, you had realized. Motherhood. A child all yours, calling you momma and toddling into your arms. You had been unable to stop yourself from feeling the little bud of jealousy towards your friend, because you knew youâd likely never experience such a thing due to your unique situation.
John has his own partners whom he loves. You werenât among that list, and you didnât particularly enjoy the idea of having sex with another man with the potential risk of your parents, or anyone else, asking for a paternity test because you know someone would ask. Your mother, probably; she was always warning you not to whore yourself out, and your father didnât even need to say anything-
âMy dear?â
Johnâs concerned voice pulls you out of your thoughts, his hand gentle on your elbow, and itâs only then you realize you had been staring down at the baby with such sadness, so not befitting of such a beautiful gala. So you shake your head, clearing your thoughts, and turn to him and your friend's husband.
When the baby squirms, you coo softly and hand him back to your friends, gentle and careful. That's when you turn to John, giving him a simple smile. "Yes, Your Grace?"
The worry remains on his face, less visible however, and his eyes look over you carefully. Your friends are too busy with their son and showing him off to care about what you two are saying in the corner heâs led you to. "Are you alright?â
As if youâd ever tell him what the issue is. You donât want to make John feel pressured into this, of all things. Youâd rather be divorced than do so, and that should speak volumes on its own.
Itâs a silly want, anyways. You have everything you could possible need right now, married and stable. You arenât about to ruin it with your own two hands.
So you nod your head, and brush away all thoughts of a little baby cradled in your arms. âYes, I am. I was just lost in thought. Shall we return to the party?â
John observes you for a few seconds more, and then he sighs and nods. âVery well. Would you do me the honor of this dance, my dear Duchess?â
Between the dazzling lights and Johnâs arms, you can almost forget the lingering desire.
But over the next few days after the gala, it becomes clear to John- to all your the men that something is terribly bothering you. There is a lingering sadness around you so profound even your maids have sensed it, wondering if perhaps you and the Duke have finally had your first fight⊠but he looks even more more worried and confused than them. You werenât mad at anyone, that much he could tell, but he didnât understand the heartache plaguing you.
ââŠare you sick, my lady?â Kyle asks you one day, placing down a tray of fresh desserts. Your favorites, all made by Johnny himself, yet you barely flick a look towards it.
âNot at all. Thank you, Kyle, but Iâm afraid I canât eat anything at the moment.â Your reply is soft, patient, as it always is, but the furrow in your brows remain and your frown deepens. Kyle hates it. He hates it so, so much. Youâve even stopped taking your usual break-walks, staying inside your room and asking for nothing in particular.
âMy lady,â he presses on, voice softer. Comes to stand close to you, and holds his elbow out. âMaybe a walk, then? You look tired. Some sun might do you good- or a picnic? I can pack the desserts and-â
You avoid his eyes and look away, shaking your head. âThank you, but my answerâs the same, Kyle. Iâd just⊠like to be left alone, please. Could I trouble you to also inform John I wonât be joining him for dinner tonight?â
You are simply glad you managed to hide the little paper youâd been writing on before he came in. Baby names, for the babies youâd never have. It certainly didnât help make your mood better, but you couldnât help yourself. Looking at John, or any of them, also made you feel guilty anew.
ââŠnot a problem, my lady. Iâll leave the desserts here for you just in case.â
Several days later, itâs Johnny who comes to you. You are alone in the conservatory, trying hard to get over this stupid, lingering feeling. Itâs silly, you know it is, but⊠ugh.
Johnny says nothing even when you call his name out with a questioning tone, and much to your shock, he kneels down to take your hands in his. Itâs so wholly inappropriate, and you look around in fear of anyone seeing.
âNo oneâs around, mâlady,â Johnny shakes his head, not letting your hands go yet.
âJohnny-â
âNo oneâs around.â He repeats, firmly, and his eyes gaze at you. âMâlady. Have we made ye angry? Has anyone made you upset? Is my food not to your liking?â
âJohnnyâŠâ you sigh, shaking your head. Inwardly, you scold yourself for bothering everyone like this. This should have been your issue alone to solve and hide. âNo, no. Nothing like that. I just need some time alone, in general.â
âBut why-â
âNo particular reason.â You quickly cut him off, gently pulling your hands away. âPlease, Johnny. Iâll get better soon, promise. But I just⊠need time.â
But the desire, the longing, still remains. You canât even confide in anyone, so you also feel painfully lonely on top of everything else. John is still searching, still trying to find what or whoâs made you like this, but not even your closest maids are of help.
Still, while you wished to wallow your misery away in your rooms and office, you didnât have much choice when youâd received an invitation to the opera troupe funded by the Price duchy; making an appearance was a must, and unfortunately John had a very important meeting that day so Simon is the one to accompany you.
âYouâve been sad lately.â Simon doesnât beat around the bush, all the lights focused on the stage so you are both draped in shadows, hidden from sight.
You turn to him, a refusal on your lips already-
âNo.â He shakes his head. âYou arenât just tired, Duchess. You are sad. Everyone can see it, and itâs making us worried. All of us.â He adds, not letting you latch onto your usual excuse. Performance ignored, his entire attention is on you.
And you are just- too tired. Ashamed of yourself, you sigh.
âItâs awful of meâŠâ your whisper, bottom lip quivering. âI-⊠I want a baby, Simon.â You admit, so softly and quietly you donât look at his reaction to see if heâd even heard you in the first place. You shouldnât be telling him of all people your issues, but- you canât help yourself. âA child. I want to experience motherhood, but- I donât, I refuse to put such a burden on John, or get in the way between all of you again-â
You ramble on, not meeting his eyes. Your hands are tembling around the mask youâd taken off, holding it in your lap.
Simon?
Simon canât take his eyes off your stomach. You. You, pregnant; swollen and glowing with a child. Maybe children, even. Their children. His. He canât believe this is what has had you so upset for so long; did you think they- John- would say no to you?
âDarling, â The nickname slips out; he couldnât help himself. He is glad the no one is paying attention to them, in the higher rows. Simon laces your pinkies together, raising your hand to kiss your knuckles, silencing your worried rambling. âDarling. Let us return home. Staying here isnât doing you any good. Tonight, I want you to let Kyle spoil you with a warm bath, and for you to eat and then sleep. Rest. Tomorrow, weâll speak. Iâll inform the troupe leader you werenât feeling too well.â
âI- I⊠speak about what? What?â
Simon simply ushers you out, to the awaiting carriage. He doesnât answer any of your questions, even when you pout and the it makes your lipstick glisten to prettily, though if you can feel that his hands are inappropriately tight around your waist, you simply blame it on your tightened corset.
At home, you are still confused. Simon is acting off, staring at you with a look that makes you all flustered, but you donât protest when Kyle gently leads you away.
Youâll get your answers tomorrow, you are sure. But in the meantimeâŠ
âShe wants a baby, John,â Simon groans, repeating the words again. His jacket is thrown off to the side, sleeves rolled up his elbows. Even from here, he can see how John eyes them appreciatively. âA baby, John. Seeing her pregnant-â
Another groan, but the one comes from between Johnâs thighs. Johnny, hands tied behind his back with Simonâs belt because the second he found out what the issue he was so, so ready to go and beg you to let him fix it. A bairn is what you want, a bairn is what heâll give you- chunky, adorable, and hopefully looking like you.
John had to hold him back, though. He wants nothing more than to do the same, kiss you breathless and promise heâll give you as many as you want, but he also knows you need a clear, rested head before he speaks with you.
The thought of seeing your pregnant, though, has his fist tightening in Johnnyâs hair.
âI know. Fuck, I know, Si. Tomorrow, Iâll speak to her.â
#cod x reader#cod#cod x you#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x you#cod imagines#john price x reader#noona.asks#noona.writes#simon ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#soap x reader#ghost x reader#poly!141 x reader#gaz x reader#kyle gaz x reader#ghost x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#call of duty x reader#poly 141#simon ghost riley x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz x you#john price x you#john price imagine#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley imagines
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Ëââ§ê°á preparing winter arc à»ê± â§âË
It's been a while uh? Since... September I guess. I manifested stuff like food... Basically food and 1k subscribers. Which is nice and
Thank you so much!!! đ©”đ©·đ©”đ©·
Here is a little story. Before I made this page, I've already made many many many tumblr accounts about Loa. Nothing happened. I posted and waited for people to come. I wanted to be popular. But.. No.. I had 5 followers.. Counting myself with.
With Pamicakery, when I created that page.. I felt like my post will be viral if I can put it like this. For me, it was a great idea. No doubts it's gonna flop. I decided. Today I am here sitting with 1k people with me. 1k. I never had so much in my life but I knew. I decided, I told myself that this page is gonna grow. People will come and appreciate what I have to say.
Before the Pamicakery account, I had an Instagram page. I used to post my drawing and nothing happened. For 3 years. Even if I posted, the best I could have got was 5 likes.
I put it as a goal. I want my 100 followers. I want them and I will have them. I affirmed, for days. 3 days I affirmed. Even thought I saw that. For me that 84 will change into a 100.
And here we are 3 days later.
Your life can change In a snap of the fingers.
It's not a lie. This is what a change of mindset do to your 3d. I wasn't destined to keep my 72 followers for the rest of my life. It was a circumstance but I decided that I was above it.
And I was thinking about my appearance and I was like.. How many
2020
2021
2022
2023
2024
Are we gonna be like this? Crying over our desires, seeing summer and winter pass. How many time? Because one day, if you do nothing your Sp will be taken, your job offer will go away. How many time will your scroll on tumblr for the best advice? Are you gonna have epiphany at 60's?
Why do you keep asking '' Can I manifest this or that? ''.
You decide. It's like going in a restaurant and asking another customer if you can order this or that.
Stop seeing your life Scrolling in front of eyes. Years and years are going. We have to be strong, we have to decide and persist.
It's not that bad if you don't believe it but keep persisting in having the thought that you can do it.
Keep thinking it. It will become an assomption.
You are the General and your army follows you. If you think you will fail, you army will think that too.
You don't want to be a loser anymore, you don't want to whine about your circumstances. So do i.
We have only one 2024 in all the history of humanity and you are wasting this. So get up, and train your mind to success, Saturate it with your achievement, be happy because you will succeed, Program your brain to success. Affirm, visualise. The success must be running 24/24 in your mind.
Get up early, if it's hard? Go harder! But never stop, decide. Don't let the 3d making fun of you anymore. If you think it's to hard, you are weak, the 3d will not sugar coat you.
Be stronger, be unstoppable. Shout in your 4d, Roar in your mind, and keep going! Keep going and keep going and keep going. Take 5 minutes and repeat that you will succeed, go to your mind to seek for evidence, persist and never give up.
One day there will be no more 3 days, or a week, or tomorrow. Decide to change today, right now.
-choose.
-see it as a goal.
-The image of your success should be your 4d wallpaper.
-Affirm and Condition Your Brain for Success
-Persist and know that it will change.
-make internal conversation.
-Repeat the thought of you being good at manifesting
LET'S DO THIS WINTER ARC AS MASTERS MANIFESTER.
(I just came here to say that, but then.. I'll put myself in the state of a conqueror, a warrior and a master Manifester. đ)
#loa tumblr#law of assumption#loassumption#robotic affirming#loa assumptions#manifestation#affirming loa#loa blog#affirm and manifest 𫧠đâš ÖŽÖŽÖ¶Öž Ù Ë#affirm and persist
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Tiny Dots on an Endless Timeline
pairing:Â Logan Howlett x Female Mutant!Reader rating: Explicit (MINORS DNI; 18+) word count: 28.5k summary: "Itâs been a few years since you'd passed, dying in one of the earlier Sentinel raids. He watched you die. He watched you beg and plead for him to get everyone to safety as you used your gift to keep the Sentinelâs away. Itâs his last memory of you; a memory that makes these missions harder. But the idea that stopping all of this from happening could save you, could give him more time with you, gave him something he too hasnât felt in a long time: hope."
warnings: slow burn, angst/smut/fluff, pining, grief, death, panic attacks, intimacy, unprotected vaginal sex, nipple play, grinding, making out, overstimulation, aftercare
Authorâs Note: In this fic, there is some dialogue from the movie used and lyrics from Roberta Flack's "The First Time I Ever Saw Your Face". I do not own the rights to either and they are only used to help the plot of the story.
Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blogâs content is NSFW.
[AO3 link]
Abandoned Chinese Temple; Shanxi Province, China; Year 2023
Logan didnât have any high expectations when it came to missions. He has learned time and time again that every mission in this war creates loss. It seemed like every time they had a chance, that chance was quickly vanquished. He would convince himself for the longest time things will get better. They have to get better. All wars end eventually. Itâs just a matter of when and what the casualties will be. But right now, the end is nowhere in sight.
They were safe for now, hiding out in an old temple that has aged and weathered away with the times. Being back with everyone, seeing who is left of them, sits heavy in Loganâs chest. Having people he cared about ripped away like they were nothing, no proper burial or goodbye, aged him like nothing else. While physically he was still in his proper form and shape, mentally he was struggling.
Charles is giving a history lesson on the Sentinels, giving information many of the younger mutants were not fully aware of. Logan is aware of what this is leading up to, a plan Charles and Erik conjured up as a last resort. Itâs smart, but even when it seems too good to be true, he must remind himself the same thing: do not have any expectations.
Logan notices Charles is quiet, and everyoneâs attention is on Kitty. She had been talking and even though Logan had zoned out for a minute, the look on her face says it all; itâs impossible.Â
âYou have the most powerful brain in the world professor, but the mind can only stretch so far before it snaps. It would rip you apart. Iâm sorry.â
The gears in Loganâs head were turning. He doesnât quite know the limits of his mutation, especially in regard to traveling back in time. However, he has taken multiple bullets and slashes. He has been through some of the worst experimentation imaginable and his body always recovered. If his body could bear all of that, whatâs to say he wouldnât survive going back a few decades?
Itâs not long before everyone agrees that Logan going back was the only solution left. Charles and Erik walk him through what needs to be done the minute he wakes up as his younger self. Patience is what Charles keeps telling him, but of course he knows that will be challenging alone. Not to mention all the bullshit they were doing in the early 70s. Bastards.
âI do apologize, Logan. But I have the utmost faith that you can do this.â Charles chuckles, obviously hearing what Logan called them.Â
âThere is nothing left to lose.â Logan sighs.
âBut there is plenty to gain.â Charles smiles, the hope on his features stronger than it had been in a long time. âTo bring our loved ones home. To bring her home.â
Logan sucks in a breath, holding it for a second before releasing slowly. His hand goes to his neckline, pulling the chain from his suit to look at it and there it was. The engagement ring: a symbol of good things to come that will no longer come to fruition. A lifetime that was stripped away from him, a life with you no more.Â
Itâs been a few years since youâd passed, dying in one of the earlier Sentinel raids. He watched you die. He watched you beg and plead for him to get everyone to safety as you used your gift to keep the Sentinelâs away. Itâs his last memory of you; a memory that makes these missions harder. But the idea that stopping all of this from happening could save you, could give him more time with you, gave him something he too hasnât felt in a long time: hope.Â
âItâs good to see that spark in your eyes again, Logan.â Charles says.Â
Logan huffs under his breath. âI guess my emotions are starting to show on my sleeve, huh?âÂ
Charles laughs, before moving on into the other room. âYouâve grown a lot since Iâve first met you, Logan. And I have her to thank.â
Logan looks down with a smile, reminiscing only a little bit. You really were something else.
It isnât long before he is lying down on the stone table with Kitty explaining everything to him. It all makes sense, but he canât shake the fact he will be the only one to remember this war: the trauma, the anger, the dread, the grief. Even when this war will have no bearing on the new world he hopes to come back to, he will still live with that pain.Â
âAlright, Logan. Calm your mind and think peaceful thoughts. This may sting a little.â He can hear the uneasiness in Kittyâs voice, but he is ready. There is no pain he canât endure.
He closes his eyes and thinks about the happier times. Some of his fondest memories are of him simply waking up to watch the sun rays glide across your body in the morning. How you would curl more into his chest and mumble words with no connection whatsoever. How you would wake up, kiss his chest and keep going until your lips met his. He would always ask you to use your gift in those moments, wanting to hold you just a little longer before the day started. You were his little piece of heaven.
Even as he feels Kittyâs hands beside his head, he thinks maybe before he wakes up, heâll dream as his mind travels. Heâll dream of better times and that alone would hold him over during the impending pain. Because what he wouldnât give to have you in his arms again. Thatâs all he wants.Â
His hand grips onto the ring attached to his dog tags, holding it close as he prepares to enter a different time full of the unpredictable.Â
This is for you, baby. I will save you this time.
And with that thought, the hot pain scorches his temples and sets fire to his mind and then he is gone.
The Algonquin Hotel; New York City, NY; Year 1973
Music. Soft, calming music enters his conscience. It greets his mind, carefully shaking him awake. Then there is the sunlight. It is warm against his skin and he can feel it greeting him, telling him it is time to start the day. It all felt too familiar, and he thought he was dreaming. He felt something draped over his neck. It wasnât heavy but there was a weight to it. He lifted his hand to touch and the moment he felt another hand, he smiled. Yes, I am definitely dreaming because here she is. He brought your dainty hand to his lips, kissing it gently as he intertwined his fingers with yours.Â
But the moment is short lived as his other senses kick in. He took one inhale and knew immediately something wasnât right. He turns to lay flat on his back, and he canât help but curse under his breath. He feels like he is waking up to the pre-walk of shame as he looks at the woman beside him. He recognizes her, someone he had bodyguarded for a period of time and occasionally let her warm his bed. Well, he let her do a lot more than that.Â
If only he had the foresight to have kept it in his pants.Â
He sets her arm to her side and attempts to get out of the bed. He feels the water hold him back, and he groans deeply. Whoever invented water beds can fuck off.
He stands to his feet, taking in his surroundings. He recognizes the room and knows heâs in the Algonquin. The room has its signature set up, with its warm tones on the walls and floor, the plant hanging from the ceiling. Heâs been in this room before, or at least another copy of it. He sees the mirror between the two windows, and he walks up to see his reflection.Â
Holy shitâŠ
He looks the same, but the differences are prominent. The gray that was once at the corners of his hair and beard were gone. His head of hair looked fuller and was back to his original brown state. His body didnât look much different, but he felt rejuvenated. It looked like his body hadnât endured much. He looks down further and canât help but smirk. Heh, still got it.
His sights go to the window, and he peeks through the blinds, only to once again let expletives fall quietly from his lips. He knew it had worked, but seeing Times Square without its vast array of screens made him take a step back. There is a strange emotion forming in his chest, and while he canât describe it, he can tell itâs good.
âHoly shit,â he mutters in awe, taking in all the minute details. âIt worked.â
He feels relief, as well as curiosity as he scans the city in its older form. Charles had said he was a very different man during this time. He wonders what he will be walking into, and how he will prepare for the moment where Charles will think heâs full of shit.Â
But his mind drifts as he looks down onto the street, street musicians on the side playing their instruments for spare change. He remembers you telling him that was something you did for a while with empty storage containers and food bins as makeshift drums⊠right here in the city.
His heart aches at the thought that you are out there somewhere, living your life day by day like nothing was wrong. You had told him you had a bit of a rebellious streak in the 70s, especially when you were playing music with a bunch of punks most nights and living out of a van. It reminded him a lot of himself, how he would have some kind of gig to make money and then go home to his trashy, beat up trailer.Â
He always told you how he would have killed to see you in those times, and now that heâs here heâs tempted. Maybe he could leave right now and take a quick peak around the city. He wouldnât even interact with you. He just wants to see you breathing and alive. He wants to see you living your life to the fullest, even if it pains him to not interfere.
He scoffs at himself, shaking his head and releasing the blind shade. No. He came here to do one thing, and that was to find Charles and Erik. He knows that if he plays his cards right, everything will turn out okay. The mutant population will continue to thrive, his friends will be alive, and you will continue to be by his side. Logan knows good things come to those that wait, so he will wait for you. Even if it fucking sucks to do so.
He goes to put on his pants, deep blue jeans with a big belt buckle, something he wore often. Some things really donât change, do they?
He finishes covering himself, and the second his belt is strapped into place, he hears the door open. He turns to see three men standing by, talking loudly at the woman to get dressed as they stare him down.
Fuck.
Alleyway off of East 17th Street; New York, NY
âFuck!â
You shoot up from your van seat, the thumping on the door startling you awake. You groan, holding your head as you blink slowly. You turn and see a cop at your window, signaling for you to roll the glass down. You grab the lever, rotating it slowly before squinting up at the man.
âMaâam, you cannot park nor sleep here,â he emphasizes, snark laced in his voice. âYou need to get moving.â
You see him whip out his ticket book, a quick scribble before he rips it and hands it over to you.Â
âWhat? No warning?â You say defensively. âYou gotta understand I was drunk last night. No points for not drinking and driving?â
He looks you up and down, grimacing at your attire. âFor cretins like you, absolutely not. Unless you want to dispute the ticket in court, pay the fine.â He turns away, no consideration or anything.Â
You scoff as he turns to leave, and you roll your window up quickly. You watch as he walks away, and you bring your hand up, curling your fingers in. Everything slows down before freezing all together, only to then reverse in swift motion. You watch the cop rework his steps as time turns back, and you keep going until you see him drive back from which he came. You continue to let time go, so youâd have enough of it to get the hell out of the alley, before releasing your fingers. Time slows again and then it goes on like nothing has changed. You glance at the ticket, noting he had filled the ticket out prior before to scaring the daylights out of you.
âFucking pig,â you jeer, crumbling the ticket up and throwing it to the back.Â
You start up the van, pulling out of the alley slowly before turning onto the busy street. There was high traffic per usual, people pushing to get to their jobs. You glance at the clock to see it is nine in the morning, and hum at the amount of time you have before your gig tonight. You are tempted to find another place to park, to sleep off the dreadful hangover plaguing your head. You knew taking all those shots the night prior was a terrible idea, but the drinks kept coming after such a good show. It helps too that your mutation keeps everything in check, a fact that makes you grin.
Being able to control time, rhythm and pace come naturally to you. You are always able to keep a perfect tempo and can change it up at your will. While punk music has never been about perfection, it always helps that you can pull everyone back in if things get too out of hand. People tell you youâre a prodigy, but if only they knew. Your bandmates donât even know, and while you know they would embrace you, you felt it was always better to keep things hidden. Especially since you tend to use your power to save your ass far too often.
You decide to drive to central park, thinking some fresh air would stop your head from pulsing. You make a turn onto 44th Street, wanting to get to the main road for a straight shot to your new location. However, as you drive down, you start to feel strange. Your head was pulsing more, like your mind was trying to break down a door to give you a warning. It becomes borderline painful, and you canât help but pull over onto the side of the street.Â
You put your hazards on, opening the door before getting to the sidewalk. You squat down, dry heaving a little as you work to calm your mind down. You shut your eyes, rubbing your temples to ease the ache. And then as quickly as it came, it stopped. Your eyes open, looking around to see you are in front of the Algonquin.Â
What the fuck?
âI must have really outdone myself last night,â you mutter under your breath, standing up fully to get back into the van.
You get in and go to turn the hazards off, but you stop when you notice a man walking out of the hotel. You watch as he walks with purpose, getting into what looks to be a green 1970 Buick LaSabre. Your brain glitches, trying to process something that doesnât exist. You donât know him. Youâve never seen the man before. So why is your brain acting like you do?
You watch him drive off with a screech, and you watch until he is no longer in sight. You stare off into the distance for a minute, thinking what the hell just happened. It was new, and it isnât like anything youâve ever experienced. The aftermath settles in your chest with a weird sense of longing and it makes you even more confused.
I definitely drank too much last night.
Xavierâs School for Gifted Youngsters; Westchester, NY
Logan knew the peaceful thoughts wouldnât come easy, but god damn the entire morning has been far from peaceful.Â
The altercation at the hotel ended with the three men on the floor, dead or alive he wasnât sure. He couldâve handled it better, but the shock from seeing his old claws and the excruciating pain from the bullets sent him into a frenzy. He had truly forgotten how painful bullets felt when his bones werenât covered in metal.Â
Driving from New York City to Westchester didnât help his mood. Heâd rather suffer a thousand stab wounds than drive in traffic and deal with dumbass drivers. The only upside was he had time to think about his approach with Charles, and how he was going to convince him that he was serious. He had a pretty good idea of what he needed to say and was feeling confident. As long as there were no obstacles, he could get this done.Â
But that all shattered when Hank opened the damn door. He hadnât even considered his presence, but Hank was a pretty understanding guy. Heâd understand, right?
Boy was he wrong.Â
He definitely underestimated how strong Hank was, especially after seeing him as a younger man. Their tussle had landed him onto the marble table in the center of the foyer and with Hank roaring at him from the chandelier. It was no surprise that the one person who still lives here came out: Charles.
Loganâs first thought after looking at Charles was how much of a bum he appeared to be. He wasnât one to judge, but to see his mentor in such rough shape was perplexing. It looked like the optimism he always held so close was far gone, which was made clear when he laughed in Loganâs face.
Charles did say he would need to be patient with him, but fuck he was a pain in the ass. Logan understood, as he wasnât much better when he arrived at the mansion, but if he was this much of an ass as Charles is now, God help him.
At this moment, he was working answers out of Hank, trying to piece something together that would convince Charles that what he was saying is true. Then he heard footsteps from the stairs.
âIâll help you. Iâll help you get to Raven.â
Which now leaves them all in Charlesâs old office, discussing plans on how to retrieve Erik without getting caught. Erik had explained where he was before Logan got here, but now knowing what he did to get there makes this more complicated. Not that it already wasnât, but it is for certain that his cell will be guarded to hell and back.
Once again, fucking bastards.
âWhat resources do we have?â Logan asks, hoping that Charles or Hank know someone with an ability to get them in and out.Â
âWellâŠâ Charles draws out. âI may know one person who could do it, but she will need some convincing. If we can find her, that is.â Charles chuckles, his hand rubbing his face in disbelief.
Hankâs eyes go wide. âYou donât meanâŠâ
âSheâs the only person that could pull it off, with her mutation and all.â Charles goes to stand, taking a swig of his whiskey in the process.
âWho is she?â Logan asks curiously, the odd mix of dismay and confidence in their tones intriguing. However, the second he hears your name, he freezes.Â
âWhat?â Logan says with uneasiness, something the other two donât pick up on.
âShe was a recruit back when Erik and I were forming a team to fight against Sebastian Shaw.â Charles explains.
âShe can control time,â Hank jumps in enthusiastically. âMove it forward, backward, stop it all at once.âÂ
âShe left shortly after Cuba,â Charles takes a drink with that. âShe said she didnât want to be at odds with Erik and I.â
âIs there anyone else we could use?â Logan interjects quickly. The idea of seeing you is oh so tempting, but there is a fear that any sort of interaction with you will tear you away from him. To see you is one thing. To interact with you is another.
âThere are mutants that can stop time telepathically, but she can do it all, which is why she is our best bet.â Charles adds, waving his hand like he is explaining something complicated. âThe only problem is I have no idea where she went. I havenât seen or heard from her in over a decade.â
Logan canât help but scrunch his face, biting the inside of his cheek in contemplation. He knows he canât let his selfishness get in the way of the lives at stake. If you really are the best bet to get Erik out, then so be it.Â
âFine, but we just use her to get Erik. After that, she is done.â
âWell, we have to find her first.â Charles shrugs. âI canât use my powers, so we will need to find an alternative.â
âWe have a phone book.â Hank suggests, already walking to the stack of books behind the sofa.Â
âThat is not going to help, but she was in a band around this time right here in New York.â Logan says, looking at Hank as he grabs the phone book. âShe was playing gigs most nights in 1973.â
Charles and Hank look at one another, seemingly perplexed by this new knowledge. âHow do you know this?â Charles speaks for them both.
âLetâs just say she becomes a protege of sorts for you in the future.â Logan leaves out the rest. This wasnât the time to get into the details of his relationship. âI know the band name. We can call popular hole in the wall venues around the city to see if her band is playing tonight.â
âIâll start looking through and making calls,â Hank offers, and sits down at Charlesâ desk.
âLet us know if you find anything. The minute we know something, we leave.â Logan says.Â
Logan leaves before a response is given and goes outside. The sun is bright, surprisingly not too cold for this time of year. He leans against the old brick, taking out a cigar he magically had in his pocket along with a lighter he had snatched off the desk. He cuts the end with his claw, and lets it sink back in as he puts it to his lips. He goes to light, his hand a little shaky but he eventually gets a good burn going, the taste entering pleasantly into his mouth and lungs.
He puffs out some smoke, sighing at how the events of today have turned. He had made the decision not to see you, and now he is going to have to. Itâs a double-edged sword; he gets to see the beautiful woman he fell in love with, while also taking the risk of altering his and your future together. So many what ifâs: what if something bad happens to you? What if you all get caught and you get sent to prison? What if you somehow realize you donât like him in this timeline?
What if you die and he canât save you again?
That thought alone makes him choke a little, lost in so much thought the smoke overwhelmed him. No, he canât think like that. There is too much on the line for his emotions to play games. Besides, maybe in the end, regardless of if he ends up miserable, youâd wake up in the future safe.
He just wants everyone he loves safe.
Maxâs Kansas City Nightclub; Manhattan, NY.Â
Logan has been to many different nightclubs. Having been a bodyguard for hire, these types of places were nothing out of the ordinary. There were plenty of young women he was hired to watch, ones that wanted to rebel a little, that would come to these clubs to have a taste of freedom. They all had the same shit: drugs, alcohol, sex, and bad decisions.
He was starting to feel the latter.
It isnât that he disagrees with Charles. Your mutation is powerful and would create easy access to Erikâs hold cell. You are the obvious choice. However, he canât stop debating with himself on if dragging you into this will change the future; one where you and him are never to be. The thought alone makes his stomach turn.
Along with that, just seeing you in the flesh is enough to send him into disarray. Logan is far from a nervous man, but it has felt like an eternity since heâs seen your face. One look at you and he may not be able to hold it together.Â
Him and Charles are sitting at the bar, nursing their shitty whisky. It burns the same, and by this time Logan is finishing his fourth glass, waving down the bartender for a fifth.
âListen,â he hears Charles yell over the loud crowd. âI know you can hold your liquor but you should probably slow down.â
âTrust me, bub,â Logan shoots the fifth round down his throat, swallowing quickly. âYouâll want me as loose as possible for this.â
âWhat is with you? Is this about her?â Charles nods to the empty stage. âYou acted very strange when discussing her today. Were you two close?âÂ
Logan looks down into his glass, his mouth opening and shutting not knowing what to say. It doesnât matter, however, because before he can make a decision, drums are starting to beat down heavily.Â
â1, 2, 3, 4!â
Drums start bumping, along with guitar and bass chords. The crowd starts running to the back where the stage is located, jumping and vibrating to the music. Logan looks to the stage, and lo and behold there you are on the drum kit.Â
Even when you were no longer playing with a group, you played a lot at the mansion. You often taught music classes for students who just wanted to have some fun. It was also your way of releasing some steam. Charles had to soundproof the music room so your constant drum smashing wouldnât cause a disturbance.Â
But here you are, keeping perfect tempo as you keep up your rhythm. Seeing you in your element was so much more than he thought. You were an animal on those drums, totally submerged in your performance. You were smiling, interacting with other band members during each song. Whether it be adding vocals, doing theatrics with your drumsticks, or silly banter, you looked like you were meant to be up there.Â
âSheâs really good!â Charles yells over the music, and Logan can only nod. He is immersed in you, his nerves gone as he takes you in. He missed you so badly that seeing you again has given him some grace. He needs to be careful, but right now it doesnât matter. He just wants to enjoy seeing you happy and alive.Â
The set goes on for another twenty minutes, the songs short and quick. The crowd was getting more rowdy as the set continued. They were shouting lyrics back, heads rocking and popping as they jumped around. He sees you looking out into the crowd, only for your eyes to meet his own and then to his right. Your eyes went wide, and he turned to see Charles lifting his hand with a small wave.Â
âWell, the cats out of the bag.â Charles mutters, not leaving eye contact with you.
Logan sees the shock in your features, and can sense you picking up the tempo slightly. Your bandmates didnât seem to mind, however, as they picked it up as well and the crowd seemed to love it. The last cord plays, and the crowd cheers.
âWeâd like to thank yâall for coming. Goodnight!â The vocalist said before the band walked off the small stage. You, on the other hand, didnât follow.Â
He watched you make your way through the throngs of people. The look on your face is unclear, but the moment you are in front of him, itâs like itâs just you two.
He fully takes you in. You looked about the same, maybe a little younger. You were wearing jeans with holes at the knees, beat up converse, and a white v-neck that revealed your collarbones quite nicely. A black leather jacket, that has seen better days, pulls it all together. There was a sheen of sweat at your temples, creating a shine in the baby hairs. Logan only had two thoughts in his head: that he desperately wishes he could pull you into his embrace and that you looked so sexy like this.
So incredibly sexy.
âWell, look what the cat dragged in.â You smirked, hands on your hips.Â
âI must say this is a pleasant surprise.â Charles laughs, standing up from his seat. âItâs so good to see you, darling.â
âItâs good to see you too, and walking for that matter!â You pulled him in, hugging him tightly and kissing his cheek. It makes Logan shift slightly, a little jealousy lingering even though there is nothing he could do about it.Â
You let Charles go, and you look at Logan, quirking your head as your eyes scan him up and down. He keeps his eyes on you, not budging.
âSo Charles, whoâs your friend?âÂ
âAh, yes, well this here is-â
âLogan.â
Loganâs eyes go wide when your hands shoot to your head, gasping as you grip your head. He reaches out, wanting to do something to ease whatever is going on, but as soon as it starts, it stops.
âFuck, Iâm sorry. I must have really overdone it with the drinking last night.â You mumbled.
Logan smirks. âA real party animal, huh?âÂ
âMore like donât know when to quit,â you sigh. âSo, how did you know that I was playing here tonight? Or better yet, how did you even know I was doing this? Keep tabs on me up there?âÂ
âActually, Logan mentioned it. He-â Charles starts, but Logan is quick to hit his back, making him double over from the impact.
âWhat he means is it is a long story, and we should go somewhere else to discuss it.â Logan says with urgency, hoping his tone takes your attention away from how heâs acting.
âWhy not talk about it here?â You shrug, going to the bar to order a drink. âThe night is still young.â
âThis conversation needs to be for your ears only. It is highly confidential.â Charles interjects.
âHmm,â you donât look at him, finally getting the bartenderâs attention. âTrying to drag me back into some bullshit, Charles?â
âBullshit that could save everyoneâs life, sweetheart.â Logan says. He isnât used to your slight indifference, but it is something he is going to have to get used to. You are a different person during this time, after all.
You turn back to them, sighing before you lift your hand up, middle finger and thumb pressed together before snapping. Everything stops instantly. Drinks that are being poured freeze. People talking with others go still with mouths open trying to get the next word. The lights stop flickering, some looking to be out while others keep the light.Â
Time goes still. Except for the three of them.
His eyes go to look at you, where you are wearing a smug look.Â
âMy ears only, right?â You say, lifting your drink like you are cheering for something. âSo start talking.â
The Pentagon; Arlington, VA
The Pentagon was incredibly crowded, which was to be expected. Tours were taking place. People were rushing to get to their posts. Security was at each corner of the building. There is a lot of commotion, yet you knew this would be a piece of cake. And yet, you couldnât believe you had agreed to do this.Â
When Logan had explained he was from the future, a future where everyone will eventually become slaughtered, it took you aback. It was hard to think about. You knew the U.S. Government has an aversion to mutants, but to create a weapon to wipe them clean with Ravenâs DNA? You shouldnât be surprised, not with everything currently going on, but you are.
The plane ride was fairly quiet. Hank and Charles were in the cockpit, leaving Logan and you in the main lounging area. You had noticed Logan looking at you quite a bit throughout the quick ride. It was like he wanted to say something, but he couldnât. You couldâve sworn you saw something akin to pining in his eyes, but you brushed it off. You didnât know if it was his way of figuring you out, or if there was something else.Â
You wondered if you and him are connected somehow. With the headaches coinciding around Logan, you couldnât help but wonder if your mutation is doing something new, something it couldnât do before because you have never met a time traveler. Not until now.Â
Maybe you will get answers later. Right now, you have a job to do.Â
You are standing in the middle of the Pentagonâs main sector, mentally preparing yourself for this. You would have to hold time for thirty minutes, enough time for Charles and Hank to reach and retrieve Erik from his cell. This only gives them fifteen in and fifteen out.
âAre you sure about this?â You hear Logan say from beside you. âWe can find another way if it is going to be too much.â
He sounds so sincere, and it oddly does something for you. Here is a man you donât know much about caring about your wellbeing. For someone of his apparent nature, it is endearing.Â
âIâll be fine, but I appreciate you caring enough to ask.â You smile at him, and the smile he gives back makes your stomach flutter. Just a little bit.Â
âAlright here goes nothing.â You turn to look at Charles and Hank. âThe second everything stops, grab an authorized personnel card off of one of the security guards and go quickly.âÂ
âAnd youâre sure we are the best people to do this?â Charles mutters, looking torn.
You smirk at him. âOh, Charles. You may not realize this. but he cares about you. Maybe this is the reunion you need.âÂ
âI doubt it,â he grumbles but nods at you to go on.
You look forward, hands slightly in front of you before snapping your fingers. It isnât instant like it usually is. It travels, people coming to a stop before everything is completely still and silent. It takes a lot of focus and precision on your part. Youâve never had to freeze an entire building, let alone one that runs so deep.Â
As told, Charles and Hank make quick work, grabbing a card from a guard right by the door they needed to go through. Once the door shut, it was just you and Logan, who had insisted he stay in case something happens.
You sense his eyes on you again, just as he had on the plane. Minutes pass, and you think maybe he will say something, but no. Itâs just radio silence. You could handle it on the plane, but right now? Absolutely not.
You roll your eyes at his behavior. âYou psychoanalyzing me or something? I can multitask, you know.â
Logan moves so he is facing you, and he is only two steps away from you. You notice he is much taller than you, maybe by a foot. His attire is oddly fitting for someone from the future. The brown leather, the feather pattern on his shirt, and god the big ass belt buckle with blue jeans that fit his legs so nicely. You had to ask.
âSo, if you are from the future, I gotta ask: did you come dressed like that?âÂ
He looks down at what he is wearing, inspecting himself. âWhatâs wrong with how Iâm dressed?â
He looked so self-conscious. It was cute. âNot at all. Just not something I expected someone from the future to wear.â
âWell, technically I am in my younger selfâs body. This is how I dressed in 1973.â He chuckles. âI guess I still dressed like this though, before everything went to shit.â
âSo, you an old man now or something?âÂ
He smirks at you. âIâm probably older than your great grandfather, sweetheart.â
Your eyes widen at that statement. âIs that your mutation? Being immortal?â
âAmongst other things,â he holds out his hand, and within a blink of an eye claws are coming out from in between his knuckles. You tilt your head in awe, admiring the bones that are tinted yellow. He then lets them sink back in, the wounds healing instantly.
âRegenerative healing. Thatâs pretty neat,â you say. âStill must hurt though.â
âEvery time,â Logan hums. âBut you get used to it.âÂ
âI see,â you murmur, not knowing what to say after that. Luckily, Logan keeps going.
âYou must practice a lot for you to stop time in a place like this.â
You canât help the chuckle that slips your lips. âI wouldnât call it practice. I just get myself into stupid situations.â
Logan grins, taking a step closer to you. âYeah? Like what?â
âWell, a few weeks ago we got into a tussle with the police. They decided to start some shit at another club we were playing at. Gave me a black eye even.â You answered, oddly making light of the memory.
âBet you still looked just as pretty,â Logan joked, but with the way he was looking at you, youâd think he was being serious.
âY-yeah,â you stutter. âBut then they started making arrests. Thatâs when I shifted time back. Warned my bandmates before they came in. They were confused about the black eye though.â
This made Logan laugh, and you swear your heart did a double take. Why was this man affecting me like this?
âI like the idea of you getting a little rough. Itâs very different.â Logan purrs, and before you can ask what he means, you feel your powers start to weaken.
âShit,â you curse, hands clenching in front of you.Â
âWhatâs wrong?âÂ
You grunt in response, trying to pull yourself together. âHow long has it been since theyâve left? Shouldnât they be back by now?â
âItâs been about thirty minutes,â he confirms. âYou are certain time has stopped in this entire building?â
âIâm very certain. I wouldnât be struggling right now if it werenât.â You say with gritted teeth, getting lightheaded. âLogan, I told them thirty minutes. If I hold on any longer, Iâll pass out.â
Logan is looking around, searching for something before he takes off in a path you canât see. You are breathing heavily, trying hard to focus but you can feel yourself slipping. Itâs like you are on a cliff holding onto loose rocks waiting for them to slip.Â
âOkay look at me, baby.â
Baby?
You look to see he is holding a key card. He holds your attention, nodding to the door Charles and Hank went through. âWe are going to walk over to the door. Iâm going to open it with this. When I do, let go.âÂ
âFuck, what if we get caught?â You whimper, the mental pain starting to get stronger.Â
âI wonât let that happen again.âÂ
Again?
Before you could contemplate his words, heâs got his arm wrapped around your torso. His left hand holds your leather clad wrist, keeping you steady as two start to walk.
âSmall steps, small steps. Thatâs right,â Logan encourages, keeping pace with you as you walk slowly.Â
Heâs holding you gingerly, like you will break if he lets go. Itâs strange but you welcome it. You've never had anyone hold you with such care before. You were rough around the edges. Most people think you can handle anything, but itâs almost as if Logan has done this before; a common feeling youâve had ever since you laid eyes on him.
He stopped at the door, pulling the keycard from his left pocket and scanning it. The light blinks green and he pushes it, keeping it open with his foot as he looks at you.
âYou ready?âÂ
You nod slightly. âJust tell me when.â
âNow!â
You immediately drop your hands, and Logan is shoving you through the threshold. You gasp holding onto your chest as Logan keeps his grip on you so you donât fall. You take a deep breath, calming yourself down enough to keep going.Â
âWe need to get moving. We will get caught if we stay here.â
Logan nods, letting go of you to look at the map beside the door. You miss his touch already.
âWe need to get to this elevator,â he points to the elevator in the south wing. âItâll take us to the kitchen that leads to the lower cell.â
Without another word, you two are running. You put your hands up again, freezing time again but only in the areas you two are passing. It makes your brain fuzzy, but you push on. Logan looks back at you from time to time to check on you, worry evident on his face.
âIâm fine, keep going!â You press.Â
Before you two know it, you are both at the elevator. Logan is clicking the button repeatedly like itâll come faster, and within a few seconds it opens. You both rush in there, and Logan repeats his treatment to the closing button before the doors ultimately close.Â
You lean against the metal wall, taking a deep breath and praying to whatever God is listening that no one gets on this damn elevator. You donât know if you have it in you to protect you and Logan if someone gets on.Â
Luck was on your side, however. The elevator dinged, and when you looked up you saw it was listed as the floor you were getting off on. A sigh of relief escapes your lips, but it gets sucked back into your throat when you hear alarms. The elevator doors open and a multitude of men with chef kitchen attire run in completely drenched.Â
Before either of you get crushed by the masses, you grab Loganâs hand and yank him out. You hear more commotion coming from down the hall, yelling and crashing. You walk past Logan, jogging towards the noise. You make it to the door, hearing the voices loud and clear, and you bust in to see the insanity.Â
The kitchen was a wreck. The water is still coming as the alarm blares on. You see Hank trying to pull Charles off of Erik, but he wonât budge. Everything is a mess, and something about it sends you spiraling.
âOh fuck no!â
You are hurling yourself at these men. You grab Charlesâs jacket, and with the help of Hank yank him off of Erik. Hank flies to the floor, and you slam Charles to the wall. He looks so pitiful, and it makes you sick.
âI said thirty fucking minutes,â you seethe. âMy power has limits, and this is the reason you all pushed them today? Because you couldnât help yourself?â
Charles is silent, looking at you with complete guilt. Good, you think. He should feel fucking guilty.
âI could have passed out. You are so lucky I had Logan, or your ass would be going to prison.â
You let go of him, shoving him more into the wall as a warning, and turn to the other two knuckleheads. Hank and Erik are standing, looking at you in shock. They are really about to be in shock, however, because you werenât done.
âYou,â you pointed at Hank. âI know you hate your mutation, but your self-hatred almost fucked us all. I know you arenât that fucking weak, especially to pull his scrawny ass off of that dumbass.â
âWell, itâs good to see you too-â you hear Erik start. You donât let him finish.
âAnd you,â you shout, walking up to him and gripping the white prison uniform at the collars. âI know you are probably very shocked to see all of us. However, and understand this clearly, you do as we say. I am not about to have my future or anyone elseâs fucked up because of you. You hear me?âÂ
Erik smirks at you. âYes, maâam.â God, you wish you could wipe that look off his face.
You huff, shoving him away from you. âLetâs get out before we get caught.âÂ
âIt might be too late for that.â You hear Charles say, and you turn to see five Pentagon security members, plastic guns drawn.
âCharles,â Erik calls out. âDo something, Charles.â
âI canât,â Charles says under his breath.
âHands up or we will shoot!â One of the security officers yells, their fingers right on the trigger.
You groan at how worthless everyone is acting, and using your anger, you snap your fingers and immediately clench your fists. The cops freeze in place, and you are panting as your muscles suck up all the oxygen in your body.
âSomeone better knock them out before I give out and-â you are cut off by the sound of a pan connecting to skulls.Â
Logan was knocking these men out with ease, his strength apparent as the metal clangs. He is moving like a natural, arm swinging precisely to hit each man standing. It was captivating and watching him breathing in and out in his drenched clothes was very hot. You could feel your underwear start to cling to you, and you knew it wasnât just from the water coming from the sprinklers.
You let go, hands going to your knees as you catch your breath once again. Logan is immediately by your side.
âLetâs get out of here,â Logan commands, and he wraps his arms around your torso to sit you straight up.
âI got you, sweetheart. Just hold onto me,â Logan says in a low tone, like talking any louder would disturb the already broken peace.
Without a word, you grip onto him and you two walk out of the kitchen to the elevator. The others are waiting for you two, keeping the elevator open and soon enough you are all in.Â
Itâs amazing to you that you all made it out. Charles was smart enough to know to go through a back exit, and luckily Erik was able to move the cameras to face a different direction. It was as if none of you were ever there, other than the fact those security officers saw you. Youâre hoping Logan hit them hard enough for them to forget.
Charles had parked the rental car close by, shoving yourselves in before going off onto the road. You are in the middle in the backseat, with Logan still holding you close. Erik was to you right, working to put on the jacket and hat Charles had brought to make him less recognizable.Â
Well, less recognizable to fucking idiots maybe.
âAlright, where to now?â Erik asks, still trying to get the jacket on in the packed backseat.
âWe need to get her home.â Logan replies.
âWhat?!â You shout, feeling complete disbelief. âWhy am I going home?!â
âListen, thank you for your help. But this is dangerous, and you shouldnât get mixed up in it.â Logan continues, his tone a lot more serious than it has been today.Â
âI just fucking infiltrated the Pentagon and now you are worried about dragging me into this mess?âÂ
Logan is quiet, and you only get more pissed off. Who the hell does he think he is?Â
You push his arm off of you, twisting your body so you are looking directly at him. âI donât know if you noticed, but if I werenât there today, you all wouldâve been fucked. I care about what happens, and yâall need me. So, I apologize but Iâm fucking coming.â
Loganâs shoulders drooped, his hand going to rub his face. He breathes out, as if heâs trying to calm himself down, before turning to look out the window.
âFine.â
âGood, so we are in agreement.â You say, before laying back against the middle cushion.Â
You let your eyes close as the sounds of the cars and bumps of the road lull you to rest. The chill from the water sets in, and subconsciously you find yourself wishing those strong, warm arms that had held you so much today would wrap around you once more.
The Atlantic Ocean
Fucking bastards.
Logan doesnât understand how Charles and Erik were ever friends. Imagining them as anything but seemed easier. Maybe itâs the full rage of testosterone in their younger bodies. It would explain the extreme yelling, bickering, anger, grief. He understands the need to release all of that, but he already hates flying. Getting the man who can control metal upset isnât a great idea in an aircraft.Â
Things eventually calm down, but whatâs left is now a mess of broken glass and ceramic. Charles exits the lounge to go to the cockpit, and at the angle Logan is at he can see Charles with his head in his hands. He feels bad truthfully, seeing him so broken down and beaten up isnât easy. It reminds him a lot of himself. Looking at Erik, who looks like he hadnât been in a prison for almost a decade, irritates him slightly. But what irritates him more is that he almost crashed the fucking plane.
âSo, you were always an asshole.âÂ
As if on cue, he hears the door to the backroom open and you walk out. You are rubbing your eyes, holding onto the wall as your eyes double take on the view.Â
âLooks like I missed something eventful,â you yawn, walking over to start picking up broken glass.
âHey, donât do that. Let him do it,â Logan says, pulling a cigar out and putting it under the lighterâs flame. âHe did this. Let him pick this shit up.â
Erik puts his hand up, letting you know heâs got it. As he starts cleaning up, Logan watches you carefully walk over to sit across the table from him. You lean across it, crossing your arms as you leave your eyes on him. âGive him a break. Heâs been through a lot.â
Logan looks your way, taking another puff of his cigar. âYeah, and he couldâve killed us.â
You shrug, leaning back into the seat while keeping eye contact. âCouldnât have been that bad. I woke up to the plane flying smoothly.â
Logan takes another puff, a grin wanting to desperately pull onto his lips. Still a heavy sleeper.
âI think you just sleep like the dead,â Logan jokes, leaning forward with his elbows settling on the table.
âI guess.â Your head turned to the window, eyes closing and opening in slow succession. âBut seriously, what did we expect? They may have similar ideals for mutant kind, but they are different sides of the same coin. Iâm sure seeing one another after a whole decade makes it hard to keep everything bottled up.â
Logan nods in agreement because he can relate. When he saw you for the first time after what felt like a lifetime, it took everything in him not to pull you in. Even now, watching you as the light reflects on your face, he wishes he could seat you in his lap like he would after a long day of training. Having his arms around you as you curled into his side, feeling your warmth against him, made everyday worth living.Â
There was some reprieve when he was helping you after you stretched your powers to your limits, but he longs for you. He longs for your body, your kisses, your comfort, your love. He longs to show you how much you mean to him, to tell you he loves you. It is too much sometimes, especially in the kitchen at the Pentagon. Seeing how aggressive you were and smelling your scent change to something of want is making everything so much harder. He was already so worked up, he could have easily snapped, but he didnât and it hurts. It hurts so fucking bad.Â
There is a part of him that wishes you werenât here, so he could finally focus, but in reality he is thankful you chose to stay. He knows it is for selfish reasons, but at the same time he knew theyâd be lost without you. You give him the strength to keep going; the strength to push forward, even when itâs painful to keep everything he wants to do and say inside. So, he gets it. He gets it so much.
Logan notices you looking at him, and realizes he was staring. He coughs, trying to hide his embarrassment as he puts the cigar to his lips.Â
âSo, is that why you didnât join either of them after Cuba?âÂ
Your smile is small, like you were reminiscing. âBoth had very good points, and it makes sense why they believe the way that they do. Charles tends to see the best in people and Erik sees the worst.â
âSo, you couldnât pick a side?â
âI was only seventeen at the time,â you say. âI wasnât about to let two grown men tell me what to do, and Iâm glad I didnât. Iâm not their keeper.âÂ
âSmart girl.â
You laugh at this, and it feels like dopamine is being injected into his brain. This is the first time he has felt⊠Joy? Happiness? He could listen to it for days.
âYou said they sent you here together. Do they actually become friends again?â
Logan sends a small smile your way, but shakes his head. âItâs complicated.â And it really is. Logan is sure that if the Sentinelâs never came to be, they would still be at some sort of odds against each other. âLike you said, same coin, different sides.â
âI see,â you start to tap your fingers against the table, a nervous habit Logan had picked up on when you two met the first time. âSince we are talking, you never answered my question.â
Logan lifts an eyebrow in confusion, not realizing anything was asked.Â
âThe other night at Maxâs. Charles said you knew where to find me. How did you know?â
Logan only hums, taping his cigar to let the ash pool into the crystal tray. He feels like revealing anything about the future is a bad omen, but his restraint is wearing thin, and he canât help but relent.
âYou told me.â
âSo, we know each other in the future?â
Oh, you donât even know the half of it, sweetheart.
âWe do,â Logan breathes out.Â
You leaned in closer, your jaw in your hands. âAre we friends?â
Not quite. âSure, yeah. Weâre friends.â
âAre we close?â You are smiling big, teeth showing. He missed that smile.Â
âVery close,â he leans in towards you, faces a few inches apart. âSo close that I know everything about you.â
âYeah?â Your eyes flash. âLike what?â
âAsk me something.â He is feeling cocky now.
âOkay,â you draw out, looking around as you contemplate, before your eyes shine back at him. âWhatâs my favorite band?âÂ
âThey donât exist yet. Not for another couple of decades.â
âWhat? Really?â You gasped.
âThe genre doesnât even exist yet,â Logan grinned, seeing you surprised going right to his head. âBut right now, it would probably be Velvet Underground.âÂ
âWow, youâre good.â You compliment. âOkay, how about my favorite color?â
âReally?â
âShould be easy if you know me so well.â
Logan vibrates, loving the back and forth happening between the two of you. âItâs blue. Dark blue especially because you love how the sky looks after the sun has set.â
You look down, and Logan wasnât having any of that, lifting your chin with one finger. He moves forward just an inch more. âYouâre going to have to ask something a little harder, sweetheart.â
You shy away from him, still staying close, a rush of pink added to your cheeks. Fuck, you are so beautiful.Â
âOkay, well,â you say, still looking away from him. âThere is something else I can do with my mutation. What is it that I can do?â
Logan knows this answer far too well. Itâs the only reason he was able to be with you as he is, even though he truly believes he wouldâve fallen in love with you regardless.
âYou can stop yourself from aging.â Logan whispers, not wanting the others to hear. âYou use time to stop the clock in your body. You did it for a year after Cuba to try and gain back the time that was lost.â
âI wanted to finish high school, as crazy as that sounds.â You chuckle.
âMore like you wanted to continue doing marching band,â Logan says, laughing as you smack his arm.Â
âOh God, you must really know me if you know that!â You cackle. âI started aging again after I graduated though.â
âWhy is that? Didnât want to stay seventeen forever?â Logan tries to make light of it, but he knows why. He always knows why.
âWell,â you paused, leaning back into your seat with your hands still on the table. âThe war in Vietnam got worse. There were a lot of boys I went to school with that got drafted, and they didnât make it. If they did, they came back completely altered. Made me realize this isnât a world worth living in for too long, I guess.â
âI get the feeling,â Logan responds, to which part he isnât sure.
âAnd now that I know that the future's so bleaker, is there really a reason to want to keep living for longer than you need to?â You were looking at him so genuinely, and it broke his heart.Â
He sets his cigar down in the tray and goes to take your hands into his with a squeeze. He looks right at you, hoping what heâs conveying reaches your ears with sincerity and hope. âWe can change that tomorrow, and when we do, you will have a reason to keep going.âÂ
The conversation continues for a while, going back to answering questions for you and seeing your face light up when he guesses correctly, and he does every single time. Itâs dark out now, the new day counting down to start. Logan can feel himself getting tired, but you? You were dozing off fast with your head against the plane's wall.Â
âHey,â Logan reaches over the table, shaking your shoulder. âYou should go lay down. We have a long day tomorrow.â
You yawn, stretching your limbs before blinking a few times. âAre you sure? I slept in for most of the day. You should take it.â
âI insist. Besides, Iâm sure you donât want to sleep in here with these bozos.â Logan looks in the direction of Erik and Charles, one sleeping in the chair and the other sprawled on the couch.
âI suppose youâre right, but will you be okay?âÂ
âIâm used to sleeping wherever, so this is nothing. Please, get some sleep.â
Logan watches you get up from your seat, walking over to him before leaning down to his ear. âGoodnight, Logan. Sweet dreams.â
He feels your lips against his cheek, and he inhales sharply. He turns to watch you go into the backroom, and after a long few seconds he releases in an exhale. He puts his head in his hands, rubbing his temples in some poor attempt to calm himself, but his thoughts run fast and there is no stopping them.
He can feel himself close to snapping. Itâs like everything you do is calling him in, daring him to do something. He knows it is insane. You donât know him. If he were to do something, confess everything, what would that do for the future? Everything he says and does can change what the future holds, and a selfish part of him doesnât care. When it comes to you, he is a selfish bastard.
He leans back in his seat, closing his eyes. Tomorrow is the day things will be set right. When that happens, maybe he will wake up to a world where you are still there. He just needs to hold on a little longer.
Hotel Majestic; Paris, France; Day of the Paris Peace Accords
Getting into the hotel was surprisingly easy. You thought security wouldâve been on a high alert, but it was oddly empty. Everyone is able to walk around freely without worry, yet you are still on edge.Â
You donât know why, but youâve had an uneasy feeling ever since the plane landed. You keep relaying it back to nerves, but you know you are lying to yourself. Something isnât right, and the lack of security here is only making you feel worse.
âNot much security here for a big event like today,â Logan says.
âItâs still a hotel. Anyone can still stay here.â Charles responds. âWe still need to be careful though. Stay alert.â
You all make it to the staircase, and you see a map of the hotel. You point to the eastern wing, seeing how the third floor has a section for conference rooms. âTheir meeting is most likely happening somewhere here.â
âOkay, letâs get there quick. We are running out of time.â Logan says urgently, and with that everyone is running up the stairs.
Logan is ahead of everyone, and you take notice how much his demeanor changed. He is ultra-focused, his mind only on one thing, and you canât blame him. Youâre sure he is under an insane amount of pressure to ensure he pulls through given the future circumstances. However, youâve taken notice of how he keeps glancing at you with every chance he gets and it makes you wonder if there isnât something else going on in that head of his.
Before you can ponder more on it, you hear yelling. You hear things moving harshly and what sounds like bodies hitting the floor. You all take a turn and see a flood of Vietnamese, Russian, and American military personnel running out of a room you can only assume is where your target is: Raven.
You all enter the room, and everything happens so quickly. Ravenâs body hits the table, Charles is at her side, and Erik takes the tasers that latched to her body and gets them onto the man to the right of the table.
You hear a rapid beeping and to your left you see a man holding a device, red lines blaring as it goes off. You realize it is Trask, recognizing him from the papers.
You walk up, and before he can probably comprehend what is happening, you snatch the device from his hand. âIâll take thisâ
You arenât scared of him but you back away slowly, ensuring he cannot do anything behind your back. You hear another thump, and turn to see Logan against the wall breathing heavy with eyes screwed tight.
âLogan,â you speak up, walking towards him, but with a few steps in you feel a rush of pain to your head.
You collapse onto the floor, hands holding your head as you start to shake. The pain is sharp and static, forming at the base of your neck and wrapping around your head suffocatingly. You can hear someone calling your name, but it sounds distant.Â
âErikâŠâ you hear the fear in Ravenâs voice, and with all you can muster you look to see Erik holding a gun. The same one Raven had to kill Trask, now pointed at her head.
Your brain isnât comprehending anything Erik is saying, but his face is stone cold. Any hope that you were missing something was lost because you knew what he was going to do. It doesnât take a clear head to see that.
You try to put your hand up, attempting to stop Erik in his tracks. The second your fingers touch his ankle, he kicks it off and places his foot on your wrist. You moan in pain, his weight pressing down enough to bruise.
âIâm sorry, my dear. Iâm afraid you are out of commission.â Erik says calmly without taking a peep at you.
Everything happens in slow motion. The pressure is off your wrist, a gun shot sounds, and glass shatters. Your vision is blurry, your head feeling as if itâll pop off. The people in your vision blur together like paint bleeding in water. Voices are muddled and slow, but loud. You are in agony, and you just want everything to stop.
You start to hear more noise from the other side of the room, and you see Loganâs blurred silhouette on the floor with his back against the wall. His hands clenched in his lap with claws out, breathing rapidly like someone would when they are having a panic attack. You grunt, pushing yourself up on your hands and knees with your jaw clenching tightly as the pain spikes. You crawl towards him with intent, and all you can think is Logan helped you when you were growing weak. He needs someone, and you will help him. Even if it fucking kills you.Â
âLogan, please say something,â you grit through your teeth, biting back against the strong pulse in your head.
He is unresponsive, and your own panic rises. You both canât be down, not now. The fate of the world is happening at this very moment, and you arenât going to let this new ailment weaken you. You grab his left hand, being careful not to freak him out, and quickly change to have a grip on his wrists. You position yourself so youâre hovering over him, knees on either side of his thighs. His eyes are closed shut, his head shaking. It seemed like he was having a nightmare while still being awake.
âLogan, can you hear me?â You say with fast breaths, your head only getting worse, but still there is no response.
Fuck, I have to do something.Â
You decide to think fast. Maybe, just maybe, you can stop his internal clock, keeping him in place until you can figure out how to get him out of this. You are a little afraid to do it in his current state, not knowing if he will react before everything settles in, but you have no choice. Not unless you want him to cave in on himself. You will stay in pain if it means helping him.
âI got you, Logan. I got you,â you whisper with a tremor and put your hands to his temples, letting your power weasel its way through his mind. Your head clears instantaneously, the throbbing ebb dissipating, causing a sigh of relief to wash over you. However, that relief takes a turn into something startling.
You arenât sure whatâs happening. Logan wasnât freezing like you were anticipating, but something else was occurring. Your power feels different, like it was searching for something. Whatever you were doing, it seemed to be working. His breathing had slowed down, his claws retracted, and his body became lax against the wall.Â
The oddest part of all of this though is that you can see everything. Itâs like your mind has become a VCR, and a VHS tape of his best memories has been inserted. Itâs kind of nice to witness, seeing that even with all heâs gone through, things got better. However, the next thing you see makes your heart stop.
Everything is subdued, but you can tell he is outside on the lawn of Charlesâs mansion. Itâs bright out, and you see trees. You see young children running around playing, some using their mutations to get the upper hand in their games. And then he shifts, his eyes going to his side to see a figure beside him. His hand reaches out to them and the image clears.Â
Itâs you. Holy shit, itâs you!
You looked older. Not by much but maybe by a few years. The way youâre presented is more mature, but still has that edge. You honestly liked it, and liked the idea of who you would become.
His hand goes to your face, stroking the skin of your cheek and you watch as both of your hands go to the one lingering. You pressed a kiss to his palm, eyes closing and staying that way until you open them and pull your lips away.
âI didnât know you had come home.â You said, but it was playful.Â
âGot back early this morning. Didnât want to wake you.â
âYou can always wake me up, Logan. I missed you so much.âÂ
âYou have no idea how much I missed you, sweetheart.â
You watch his arms pull you in, but before you watch it happen your mind forces itself away. You feel tears dotting your face. And from the looks of it, Logan had tears on his face too.Â
What was all that?
âIs he okay?â You hear Charles coming from behind you, a slight edge to his voice.
âI-I got him,â you stutter, shock still in your system. âYou and Hank stop Erik.â
Thereâs no response except for feet pacing away and out the door. You look around and see everyone is gone, most likely getting out during the chaos. You hear a grunt, and turn to see Loganâs eyebrows scrunched up. His lips are quivering, and he is starting to shake again. When you see more teardrops form, you let go of him.
âShit, I overdid it,â you say under your breath, even though you have zero clue on what you did.
His eyes shoot open, causing you to almost jump off of him if it werenât for him pulling you back to him. His hands are on your face, thumbs pressing into your cheeks like he doesnât know if you are really here or not. He says your name softly, a hint of disbelief in his tone.
âLogan, are you okay?â You say, hands going to his wrists to steady yourself. In that instance he pulls you in, gripping you tightly in his hold and rocking back and forth with you.Â
âOh God, youâre alive. Fuck I thought I lost you.â You hear the pain in his voice, but it confuses you.
âLogan, Iâm right here. Iâm okay,â you reassure, arms wrapping around his head. You try to comfort him, but he just grips you harder.Â
âIâm sorry,â he says but itâs muffled with his face buried in your neck. âIâm so sorry I wasnât there to protect you.â
There is a dampness from his tears, along with the feel of his lips on your skin. His kisses are bruising, like he is trying to convince himself. You, on the other hand, are experiencing so much. You donât know Logan, but it is very apparent he knows you. He says you two were close friends, but the more he continues to kiss your neck, the more you think there is something else he isnât telling you. You can take a pretty good guess to what that is.
You are starting to think youâre going to be in this position forever, until you hear footsteps enter the room.Â
âWe need to get ou-â you can hear that itâs Charles. âWhatâs going on?â
Your mouth opens to say something but shuts when nothing comes out. You donât know what to say and you donât want to say anything that may set Logan into another fit of unrest.Â
âCharles, go pull the car around discreetly. Make sure you have Hank. We will be down shortly.âÂ
Once again, Charles leaves with no response. You turn your attention back to Logan, who is still weeping against you. You keep holding him tightly, thinking about how you are going to get him up to leave. As luck would have it, however, it is like something snaps back inside him because next thing you know you are being pushed away.
âWhat are you doing?âÂ
You quickly hop off of him, standing up in the process to provide some distance. You observe him, and see the shift back to how he was before he started to spiral. Still, there is something wild in his eyes, and you have yet to determine if thatâs a good or a bad sign.
âOh thank God,â you sigh in relief. âYou had me worried for a second.â
He groans, rubbing his head as he gets his bearings. You should wait to ask; you really should. But you need to know what he saw, and more specifically if he saw what you had seen.
âWhat happened? What did you see?âÂ
âI saw someone that is going to bring me a lot of pain one day.â Logan looks to the side, and you follow his gaze to where that military man once was.Â
âI also sawâŠâ he starts, only to look around and notice you two are the only ones in there. âWhere is everyone? Whereâs Raven?â
âSheâs⊠sheâs gone.â
âWhat?â His head snaps to you, eyes blown wide.
You look down, a sigh leaving your lips at todayâs turn of events. You feel the room shift, a tension building that feels foreign to you. You feel guilty, even though you know you shouldnât, but you feel like youâve failed him. He is here to fix things, and now no one has a clue if what happened will make things better or worse. From how he is reacting, it can only be the latter.Â
âWe need to leave.â Logan mutters, already walking towards the exit. âLetâs go.â
He isnât looking at you but waits for you to move. You nod, even though there is no recognition to come, and you walk ahead with him trailing behind you.
Yep, definitely the latter.
Xavierâs School for Gifted Youngsters; Westchester, NY
The trip back felt like it had taken years off your lifespan, the stress that had surrounded the jet almost unbearable. Everyone had feelings of failure and guilt, as it took no telepath to see that, but what made things worse was how much Logan was distancing himself.
You had thought after what happened you would get to know more, but there was none of that, not even a word. Itâs like you had burned him with the way he kept his distance. Even on the jet, a space with little room, he stayed far. You had purposely moved closer, and he made an excuse to get up only to sit at the opposite end of the jet. It upset you, and you hate that it did. You shouldnât feel anything about him, yet after that stupid memory you saw, you do. How could you not?
You didnât realize it at the time, but feeling how far he is from you makes your body ache in a way thatâs unfamiliar. The way your body had felt against his, how solid he was, had you yearning. The way he had held you like you were the most precious thing he possessed had you wanting. If you are interpreting his memory correctly, then why is he holding you from such a distance?
Does he feel like it would be cheating? You know thatâs you but that isnât you now. You are different but how different? Different enough to warrant him to see you as a completely different person?
To be fair, you donât know his past or even his future, but your heart is starting to want to go where he is. Itâs like there is a red string connected between you two that stretches far and wide. You canât help but think you harbor these feelings because no matter what, you were destined to be with him and he was destined for you. Nothing can cut that string, but it can stretch tightly and that string is losing its thread.
Currently, you are sitting at the top of the stairs, waiting for someone to come out of Charlesâs room. Logan and Hank had taken him there, his legs having given out and his mind going off the rails as the effects of his medicine wear off. You chose to distance yourself so as to not overcrowd.
You could hear them talking, sometimes with voices raising and then going soft again. You couldnât make out what they were discussing, only hearing certain words that have no meaning without context. It isnât until you hear the door click open that you stand, seeing Hank leaving the room quickly followed by Logan.Â
âIs he okay?â You ask, watching Hank come towards you fast.
âHeâs going to try and find Raven using Cerebro.â He says walking fast past you down the stairs. âGetting his wheelchair!â
Logan follows him, not glancing at you or saying a word causing you to frown. You are hot on his heels, having more questions desperate for answers.
âLogan, is he going to be alright?âÂ
âYep, just fine. Hank and I will be right beside him.â Logan says curtly, walking towards Charlesâs old office.
âWhat about me?â You ask, but it falls on deaf ears as he starts to look for something.
âLogan.â You were starting to get frustrated. What the fuck is his problem?
He finally finds what heâs looking for, and you see him slam a phone book onto the desk. He is flipping through it just a touch too aggressive, pages cringing as he flips the pages. He then stops and puts his finger down on a number before picking up the phone and clocking in the digits.
âSeriously, Logan. Who could you possibly be calling?â You ask him, only to get fucking pissed at his next few words.
âI need a cab for 1407 Graymalkin Lane-â
âWhat the hell are you doing?!â You storm towards him, getting more irritated by the second.
âCalling you a taxi. You are going home.â Logan growls out, about to continue speaking before you snatch the phone from him and slam it back down.Â
âLike hell I am!â You yell. âJust as I told you a couple days ago, I am not going anywhere. You all need me.âÂ
He slams his hands down against the table, making you jump back. âListen here, princess. I donât care how much you think we need you because it doesnât fucking matter. We need to focus. I need to focus. I cannot do that with you here, so you are going to take a cab back to New York City. Do you understand?â
The daggers in his eyes are sharp, trying to make you give in to his demands. You know better and you can see right through him. âIs this about what happened in Paris?â
He scoffs, turning away from you to walk away. âIt was nothing you need to worry about. Just saw someone that is going to make my life hell. I am fine.â
âThat isnât what I am talking about. When I was trying to calm you down, I saw something.â You say, and it stops him in his tracks.
âWhat do you mean you saw something?â He turns, facing you. âWhat could you have possibly seen?âÂ
âI was trying to stop your panic attack by stopping the conception of time in your brain, but I did something else. Something I didnât know I could do.â You explain, and his face softens from anger to confusion.
âI think I somehow moved your consciousness forward in time,â you continued. âI was able to see where I was moving it. It was how I was able to get you to settle down.â
He is in front of you instantly, hands on your shoulders in a tight grip. âWhat did you see?â
âI saw myself through your eyes.â You breathed out. âWe were out on the lawn behind the mansion.â
âWhat else did you see?â Logan shakes you a little, causing you to squeak. He is starting to scare you a little bit; the way he is behaving is very irrational.
âThat was all I saw, I swear.â You say honestly.Â
Logan sighs deeply, tilting his head back with eyes closed. He lets go of you, taking steps back until heâs against the wall. You are growing worried with how he is acting. You wish he would just tell you everything. Tell you what you two really were. Tell you what is running through his head. Tell you what is scaring him so badly. Seeing him so vulnerable has shaken you, but you canât back down.
âWe werenât just friends,â you whisper. âWe were far more, werenât we?â
Loganâs breath hitches, and his mouth opens to speak but no words come.Â
âIt explains everything. The way youâve been acting since we met. I can see the longing in your eyes. I can see it in the way you look after me. What I donât understand is why you didnât tell me.â
âIt doesnât matter.â Logan laughs but it isn't playful. It sounds like a laugh that comes to cover the hurt and is full of self-pity.
âIt matters to me!â You lament. âI want to know why.â
âListen,â Logans says, his tone becoming solemn. âWhatever I say or do here affects the future as we know it. Me even being in the same vicinity as you these last few days has made everything extremely difficult for me. If say or do one thing wrong, thatâs it. The future I have with you ceases to exist and you cease to exist.â
âWhat do you mean I cease to exist?â You ask, taken aback by his confession.
Loganâs face pales, quickly turning to go back up the stairs. âFuck, Iâve said to much.â
Your hand grabs his, yanking him back enough to keep him still. âLogan, what do you mean I cease to exist?â
Both of your emotions are running high, bubbling to the point of overflow; the edge you both were teetering on, about to fall over. You shouldnât push it, but rationality is no longer home; only frustration.
âLogan, I swear to God if you donât tell me what the fuck it is you mean I-â
âYou die in the future! Is that what you want to hear?â Logan shouts, and everything goes quiet.
You are stunned. âWhat?â
âYou die during the first few Sentinel attacks.â Logan rips his hand away like heâs having an adverse reaction.
âSo,â you start, not knowing where you want to go with this question. âSo youâre afraid Iâm sealing my fate by being here?â
âIâm afraid I once again wonât be able to save you.â Logan says with a pained expression.Â
âYou donât need to worry about me. If something happens, I can just shift time back and we can prevent it.â
âGod, you are still so stubborn,â he heaves. He is now face level with you on the steps, and he takes your face in his hands.Â
âYou donât understand how hard it is for me to stay away. The first time I saw you at the nightclub, all I wanted to do was pull you into me. It is taking everything in me not to hold you like I want to. To kiss you, to love you. But the more I let you in, the more I am close to giving in. I will not divulge my desires at the risk of everyone that is counting on me, especially you.â
You can see his torment, and all you want is to comfort him. You want to kiss him so bad. You want to pull him by his shirt and never let him go. You understand his love for you, but you want him to understand that you would go to end with him, no matter what.Â
Your hands go to his wrists, keeping his hands in place. âHave you considered that you coming back here and me being here with you was meant to happen? What if me being here helping you all saves me? What if it extends our lifetime together?â
He doesnât say anything, but the way he is looking at you makes you weep. His lip quivers, his eyes start to shine, and his jaw is clenching hard enough to break teeth. Your hands slither up his arms to his shoulders. You feel magnetized, your face inching closer to his to see if he will have a change of heart. You are close enough to feel his breath shutter against your lips, and your heart is beating so fast you are sure he can hear it. You feel slight contact, a ghost of a kiss before full impact, but it never comes.
âLogan!â Charles yells from upstairs. âWe are getting ready to go.â
Logan is quick to pull away, sending a wave of hurt towards you. He breathes out a stuttered breath before yelling a response and heading upstairs, but before he goes up he turns his head towards you. âThere is money on Charles's desk. Please leave while you have the chance.â
He goes upstairs not looking back and you watch as he disappears from your view. You stand there for a while, deep in thought as you weigh your options, but you knew what you were going to do. Even though Logan was afraid, and rightfully so, you had a gut feeling everything would turn itself around.
So, with heavy steps, you walk up the stairs and down the hall, picking the second to last room on the right. It is barren aside from a bed and a dresser, and seeing the bed made you realize how exhausted the day's events have made you. You shut the door, and flop onto the bed, letting sleep take over and dreams manifest.
Xavierâs School for Gifted Youngsters; Westchester, NY; Four Hours Later
20 Text Messages.
10 Missed Calls.
3 Voice Messages.
Voice Message 1: Hey baby, just calling you to tell you goodnight. Donât worry about waking me when you get home. I wanna see you as soon as you get in. Get back safely. I love you.
Voice Message 2: Logan, something is wrong. There are a bunch aircrafts above the mansion. Not sure what is happening. Myself and the others are getting the kids together. Iâd rather be safe than sorry. Please be cautious when you get home. I love you.
Voice Message 3: Logan. Logan! Whatever you do, please do not come to the mansion! Itâs under attack! Those Sentinels are here and- oh God Logan itâs a slaughter. Please do not come! Iâll find you once Iâm safe. I love you!
Logan is running like hell to the mansion, and he can see them. They swarm the building like flies, crawling along the brick. There are fires, giant gaping holes in the wall, and bodies⊠so many bodies.
He gets in, staying close to the wall as he listens. He can hear the Sentinel bodies grind and creak as they move, hunting down any mutant that hasnât been vanquished. He sniffs deeply, trying to find you in the building. He hopes you made it out already, but that hope is lost when he gets a strong whiff of you and blood.
So much blood.
He enters the foyer, and dead center he sees your body, a hole pierced into your stomach. He sees your mouth open, trying to breath but your chest stammers as it goes down.Â
No. No, no, no!
He is at your side, pulling you into his arms. He cradles your head, his hand going to the hand holding your wound. Your eyes are slitted, a dazed look looking right back at him. Itâs haunting how dull you are starting to look, and every second adds to his panic.
âBaby, Iâm here. Iâm here.â
Your free hand, the one not stained in your own blood, clutches onto his shirt. You pulled on it so lightly, strength slowly fading away.Â
âI told you not to come,â you whimpered. âItâs not safe here.â
âI wasnât about to leave you here to deal with this alone. We gotta get you out of here.â
âNo, you do.âÂ
âDonât say that,â he said sternly. âYou are coming with me.â
He lets go to take his belt and shirt off. Balling up the shirt, he moves your hand to put the fabric against your stomach.Â
âFuck!â You screamed.
âIâm so sorry, baby. Bear with me, please.â
He is crying, holding his sobs in as tears break over the dam. He takes his belt and wraps it around your torso, keeping the pressure so more blood doesnât come out. There is already so much around you.Â
âIâm gonna lift you up, okay?âÂ
He wraps your arms around his neck, getting a grip under your legs and your back before lifting you up.Â
âI got you. I got you.â
He starts walking back from where he came, but he wasnât so lucky this time. He sees them on the ground, making their way up from where he entered. He turns quickly, thinking the only other way out is through the tunnels.
He hits the secret door, and just as it opens he hears one coming their way. He shoves you both through, getting it shut before he starts making his way down. He is making multiple turns, his mind spinning in a haze as he goes to find the exit. He feels your breathing slow, and for the first time in a long time he is scared. You are everything. Without you, he is nothing.
He makes one final turn, the exit at the end, but he halts in his spot. All he sees is carnage. There is blood on the walls, bodies of students, and marks from where their gifts were used. The exit door had been beaten down, the walls cracked and gone along with it.Â
âGood GodâŠâ He shouldnât have come down here.
He turns to go back, but from the shadows comes one of them. It blends in with the concrete, and makes itself known once itâs in reach. Its arm shifts into something sharp, and once formed it draws down to where he stands, but just as quickly he dodges with you in his arms.
âWeâre not dying today, bub.â
He starts to run like hell towards the exit, only to see another one pop up at the opening. He takes a sharp turn, getting the runaround to make it back to the entrance. Itâs a maze of turns, feeling like itâll take an eternity to get to safety, but with one final turn he has it.
And then he doesnât.
Rubble had fallen from the flooring above and made its way down creating a massive blockage. Itâs a fucking dead end.
The two Sentinels approach, both opening their mouths to burn you two alive. He crouches down with his back facing them, preparing to take anything they give him. He will suffer. Good God, he will suffer. But if he can fake them out enough to leave, you will be safe. Thatâs all that matters.
But the pain never comes.Â
âLogan.â
He looks down to see you holding your arms out, and his eyes widen when he realizes you are using your powers. He turns to see the Sentinels, but they are still moving. Just incredibly slow.
âLogan, you need to leave.â
He turns back to you, and sees your body shaking. The work he had put into keeping the blood from spilling was fatal. You were hemorrhaging.Â
âIâm not leaving you here. I wonât do it.â
You let out a pitiful cry, your tears streaming down your cheeks. He can see his too as they mix with yours.
âThere is no saving me. Let me save you, please.â
âBaby, I-â
âDo not let me die in vain, Logan. They need you.â
âBut I need you!â
âI know, and Iâm sorry I canât give you what you need. Itâs selfish, I know.â
âYouâre damn right it is.â
âBut please, let me be selfish. Let me save you.â
He can start to feel the heat, the Sentinels mouths setting wide enough to set this tunnel ablaze. Everything is telling him to stay, but the way you are looking at him breaks him and it makes him cave.
He can never say no to you.
âGo. Find the others. Make sure they are safe. God, please make sure they are safe.â
âI love you, sweetheart,â Logan chokes, holding you just a little tighter. âIâm so sorry.â
âI am too.â
He kisses you. Itâs soft yet full of sorrow. Itâs a kiss of death, he knows it.Â
âIâll see you in the next life.â
You smiled at that. Itâll be the last smile he sees from you. âGo quickly. I canât hold on much longer, Logan.â
He lets go, gently setting you down, before he runs past the Sentinels and makes his way back to the exit. The second he was out of sight, he heard it. The roar of the flames, the mechanical sounds from their armor, and your screams.
All he can hear is your screaming.
Your screams.
You are fucking screaming.
Logan shoots up from the bed, a yell cutting off from his lips as he enters consciousness. He is breathing rapidly, swallowing nonexistent spit as he works to pull himself together. His claws were all the way out, a common side effect of his trauma response. He feels how cool the air is in the room due to the sweat that coated his body.Â
He didnât think he could dream in this current state. He hasnât had that dream in a while, even though he wishes it was simply that. He used to have it so often, a constant reminder that he failed you and let you suffer just so he could get away. Having to relive the worst day of his life over and over is his own form of hell.
He hears a knock at the door, startling him from his state of being.Â
âLogan?âÂ
He freezes up, knowing that voice from anywhere. He really doesnât want you in here, not with him like this. Not with him feeling so exposed.Â
âIâm fine!â He calls out, hoping you would take the hint, but he knows better.
He watches the door open and you appear. You are still in your beat up clothes, leather jacket and dirty shoes forgotten. Nothing has changed, but you look even more beautiful than you have since heâs gotten here. Maybe itâs because his senses are heightened. Maybe itâs the way the floodlights from outside shine on you in contrast with the dark room. Simply, maybe it is just you.
âI thought I told you to leave.â He says, trying to sound annoyed, but failing miserably.
âYeah, and I told you I wasnât going to let grown men tell me what to do.â You responded, shutting the door behind you.Â
âHmph,â he groused, looking down at his hands as his claws sink back into his flesh.
He hears you get closer, feet pattering against the wooden floors. âI could hear you in your sleep. I wanted to make sure you were okay.â
âYeah, Iâm okay.â But am I really? âJust a nightmare.â
He looks out the window, the night in full effect. The bed dips, and he looks to see you sitting down at the end. He sees it in your face that you donât believe him, which isnât surprising. Youâve always been able to read him no matter the circumstances.Â
âDid you want to talk about it?â
âNo,â he says quickly. He doesnât want to relive it twice in one night.
âOkay, okay,â you say calmly. âTell me what I can do for you.â
Please stay, so I know this is real.Â
Thatâs what he wants to say, but he feels like he will choke. His silence is deafening, so much so he sees your face twist in reaction.Â
âIf you want to be alone, I understand.â You got up from the bed. âGoodnight, Logan.â
There was a time when he didnât need to be strong or to carry the weight of others. With you as his anchor, he could be exposed. He has had to be strong for so long in recent years, but with you right here in front of him, he feels himself caving. So many emotions are rushing to his head, a battle between the Devil and God raging. He knows itâs wrong to interfere with the past, especially when there are consequences, but after tonight his sanity is slipping. Before he knows it, his hand grabs your arm to keep you from taking another step.
âStay,â he whispers, a hint of a crack that is only noticed by him. âPlease.â
âOkay,â you say with ease. âWhere do you want me?â
The angel on his shoulder is telling him to not give in, yet the little, conniving demon on the other side is telling him what he wants to hear. He wants you close; needs you close.
âWill you let me hold you?âÂ
He thought there may be some hesitation, but there is none. You walk back over to the bed, and he lays back as you climb onto it. His arm is out to invite you in, and you situate yourself to him. Your left arm is cradled into your chest and your right curls so your hand is where his heart is. Your head settles where his right arm and shoulder connect.
âIs this okay?âÂ
Itâs more than okay. âYes, thank you.â
You both lay there for a while, and he lets his senses completely take over. The first thing he senses is your smell. There is something so sugary sweet about your scent. He equates it closely to something heâd smell in a candy shop with housemade confections. Itâs intoxicating, and makes him hungry.Â
You fit into his arms just right. The skin from your cheek laying on his exposed shoulder brings a comfort he hasnât had in so long. It made him realize how touch-starved heâs been. He hasnât touched another woman since your passing, and the thought of doing so makes his stomach turn. He only wants to feel you against him, in every sense of the word.Â
The most shocking thing for him is to hear how calm you sound. Your breathing is deep and slow. Your heartbeat is sounding its soothing rhythm under your ribcage. Itâs the opposite of how his heart was reacting; hard and fast pumps of blood rushing. He feels your hand rubbing circles over his heart, and he wonders if you can tell how much you are affecting him.Â
âTell me something about me from the future.â
Logan looks down at you, and you look so peaceful as you lay with him. Does he do this to you?
âWhat do you want to know?âÂ
âAnything. Something good.â
There are so many good things about you. Itâs hard to divulge into just one thing, but even then he knows where to start.
âYou teach music at the school.â
You perked your head up at this. âI teach?â
âMhmm,â he hums, smiling to himself. âYou do a lot of the extracurricular activities for the younger ones, but music is one you do a lot of. Youâre really good with kids.â
You move your body, hands on top of one another on his chest. Your head lays on them, looking at him with a smile that makes his heart beat faster.Â
âSounds like Iâve become a lot more patient in the future.â
âTrust me,â Logan chuckles. âYou are still quite stubborn, but you are different with them.â
Logan loved seeing you with the kids. He remembers how nervous you were to teach the younger students, but he knew you would do well. Seeing how you interacted with them during class, how you encouraged them and gave them the will to work hard. So many of the kids came from families who despised who they were. You became a mother-figure to a lot of them.
He thinks about the time he woke up to kids laughing and looked out the window to see you running around with them. You were carrying on with them, laughing with them, looking at them with care and love. It was the moment he realized he would love to start a family with you. Watch you grow with his child, see you love them like you love the kids at school. It makes his heart twist.
âDid they like me?â
âOh, sweetheart. They loved you.â Loved. God, you were so loved by them.
âCan I ask something?â You ask.
âAnything.â He can feel himself getting lost in you, his hand subconsciously caressing your hair.Â
âWhat I did in Paris,â you start. âYou seemed genuinely confused when I explained what I did earlier. Was that something I couldnât do in the future?â
When you told him you brought his memories to the forefront of his mind, shifting time in his brain, he was shocked. Your mutation is special, and the control you had over it is simply astounding. He isnât surprised that your powers can do more than what was discovered originally, but it now begged the question: what triggered it and why now?
âNo,â Logan says with the shake of his head. âWhat do you think caused it?â
âLogan, I think you did.â He hears you hesitate.
âWhat do you mean?â
He watches as you sit up, crossing your legs. Your hands grab his right hand, thumbs pushing into his skin right where his mutated bones come out. It is strange how different you are acting in comparison to the last few days. You are acting like the you he gets to know later, the edge in your attitude completely gone. Maybe this is who you are or maybe⊠you are only this way with him.
âSo, the day we met, earlier that day, I saw you come out of the Algonquin.â
He sits up at this, heart picking up more. âYou were there?â
âI pulled over because I started to get a terrible migraine. It was so bad I thought I was having a stroke or something, but then it stopped like it was never there. Next thing I know, I see you and I can't look away. I felt like I knew you and I didnât know why.â
âHas it happened more than once? The migraines?â Logan is pulled into your direction, back hunching slightly to get closer even when he doesnât realize it.
âIt happened again at Maxâs when you introduced yourself.â
His eyes widen, the pieces coming together. âThatâs why you looked like you were in pain.âÂ
âI chalked it up to having drank too much,â you huffed out a laugh. âIt didnât make sense at the time, but after Paris I canât shake the feeling.â
âSo what are you saying? That I opened your mind?âÂ
âIf I didnât have access to this part of my mutation from the future you are from, what if that means this was all meant to happen?â You brought his hand to your chest where your heart lies and he can feel directly where your heart beats.
Where it beats for him.
âI wasnât even the one meant to come here,â Logan says in denial. âIt was supposed to be Charles.â
âBut what if it wasnât?â You grip his hand harder, pushing it further against you. âWhat if you were meant to find me to make things right? To save everyone. To save us. Maybe this is fate trying to tell you something.â
He is becoming weak. Your words are so honest and it is taking nothing to believe you. Maybe you are right, maybe you are wrong. You havenât seen the bloodbath the future becomes, but maybe you donât need to have seen to know. Your words, your reasoning; both make his resolve crack and there isnât much left. Having you here in front of him, being so reassuring and confident, he isnât going to last.Â
âWhat are you thinking right now, Logan?â You ask gently, and if he is seeing things correctly, he sees how much you want him to give in. And thatâs all he needs.
âIâm thinking about how much I want to kiss you right now.â
His hand on your chest is pulled lower, down to your left breast where you curl your fingers over his to squeeze the flesh. âThen do it.â
To say the dam has broken would be an understatement. The dam has vaporized, mass flooding reaching the heavens. Those three words were enough for him to snatch you into his arms, pull you on top of him, and get his lips onto yours. He has your thighs on either side of his own, holding you so close that your crotch is pressed tightly against his. Your hands are holding onto his shoulders with nails digging into his skin, and fuck he loves it.
His hands are all over you; going from your hips to your ass to the small of your back to your head. He wants to touch every part of you and memorize every inch of your skin. His fingers bundle up the bottom of your top, pushing it up with his fingertips to let his palms glide along your waist. You gasped against his lips, giving him the opportunity to let his tongue fondle yours.Â
He unclasps your bra as his hands reach the middle of your back, giving him the chance to take both items of clothing off your body. He pulls away from you, back leaning against the headboard as he takes you in. Your body is just as he remembered it, and he could weep at how stunning you are.
âDo I look okay?â There is a hint of uncertainty in your voice, and it sends his hands to gently bring your face down to him.
âYou are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on.â His eyes bore into yours as he tells you, needing you to know how much he means it.Â
Before he can say anything else, your lips are back on his. He lets you take the lead, your tongue leading him in a dance. It gives him the opportunity to focus his hands on your breasts. You whimper against his mouth and he feels you push your chest into his palms as he massages them, which causes a little smirk to form at the corner of his mouth. You had always loved when he played with them as it turned you on like nothing else.Â
âGood to know your tits have always been so sensitive,â he murmurs against your lips, thumb and pointer fingers going to pinch the puckered buds.
A high-pitched moan is pulled from you, your hips involuntary grinding against him in response. Your lips let go of his, and they end up going to his cheek. âI guess you know how to get me going, donât you?â
âOh baby, I know your body like the back of my hand,â he hums with a rumble. He can play your body like an instrument, the song being your sweet noises. He is going to show you just how well he makes you sing.
He is quick to flip you over, removing his white wife pleaser in the process before his hands go to your jeans. He yanks them down with your panties and you help kick them off before he tosses them aside. He goes to take his own off, stripping everything away until he is as naked as you are.Â
He crawls up to you, moving your thighs over his hips. His hands reach under your back and he pulls you into his lap. Your legs wrapped around him, and he groans as your wet cunt sits against his cock. His left arm stays wrapped around you, and his right hand holds the back of your head with fingers at the roots of your hair. Your hips start grinding up onto his erection, mewls so sweet that he canât help but consume them.
He pulls your head to the side by your hair gently, tugging just enough to get a reaction from you. Your eyes flutter, and he hums as he lets his lips ghost over your ear.Â
âI have every little spot of yours memorized,â he kisses behind your ear, his tongue peeking out for a little lick before kissing in the same spot. âEven if you think you know what they are, just know I know all of them.â
âFuck, Logan,â you say with a shiver, making your body press further into the heat he is projecting.Â
âMmm thatâs right.â His lips go down to the underside of your jaw where your pulse is, kissing it gingerly to prepare you for his next act. âKeep that up.â
He bites down slowly on the crevice, letting his teeth sink in far enough to leave his mark. Your hands are on his head, cooing softly at the distinct pressure. He releases, licking the indents he left in your skin to soothe the ache.Â
âYou sound so pretty, baby,â he murmurs. âLet me see if you know this one.â
His mouth trails down, sucking marks into your skin until he gets down to your sternum. His back hunches down, leaning you back to get the angle just right. He sets his tongue to work, letting the tip trail a stripe up until he reaches the notch between your collarbones. A little gasp followed by a hushed curse falls from your lips. The sensation causes you to squirm in his lap and it makes his dick twitch against your folds. Logan isnât a patient man in most regards, but he could spend an eternity exploring your body. Your reactions fuel him and they send blood right down to his cock.Â
âDidnât know about that spot, did you?âÂ
âNo, ah!â Logan pulls another gasp from you as he nibbles around the edges. âGetting me addicted to you early, arenât you?â
âThatâs right, angel.â Logan canât help himself, thrusting his hips up a little to let his length rub into your pussy; so wet and so good. âIâll have you yearning for me for decades to come.â
As he proceeds the motion of his hips, tightening his hold on you, he allows his right hand to come up to your left breast. With his tongue and cock being a distraction, he pulls at your taut nipple at the same time his teeth bite down on your collarbone. You cry out his name, his hair being fisted and pulled. He canât help the wanton moan that spills out, riling him up to no end.Â
Your breast feels so at home in his hand, but looking at how pretty your nipples look, flushed from his treatment, he gets a craving. His tongue makes a path down, making its way to the left and up until it slithers to your erected bud. His mouth latches, encircling the peak as he sucks earnestly. He continues rutting into you, feeling his and your fluids coating his appendage.Â
Logan feels himself becoming drunk. With you in his arms reciprocating his intentions, itâs like he is weightless. Something deep in his scarred heart is healing. Years of trauma from seeing and experiencing the unthinkable transform into the better things in life. He thinks of the future he could have with you. A future where you take his last name. A future where you two live in a little home decorated however you choose. A future with your belly big with his kid, where he can kiss your stomach every morning and every night. A future where you and him raise a child. He wants that. He wants that so bad.Â
In his drunken haze, he feels one of your hands leave his head. Your fingertips send his nerves alight as they trail down his arm. You are tracing the veins that are bulging out, and he grunts as they go over to his chest. He has switched to your other breast, and as he starts, he feels your palm against his cock. You are pushing it more into your cunt, thumb running over his fat tip as you rub it.Â
âFuck,â he curses with a pop. âYou are such a greedy girl.â
âWhat can I say?â You jest. âI know what I want.â
âAnd what would that be, sugar?â He thrusts against you, cockhead rubbing up and down your clit.Â
You smiled at him, and your other hand goes from his head to his jaw. Fingers slightly scratching his beard with your thumb on his bottom lip, you lean back into him with knees shifting. They are on either side of him now and his tip is being lined up against your hole. Your eyes seek out his, and he canât look away as he admires you. You are beautiful, an angel sent down for him. Every version of you is perfect, and for every version of you he will sacrifice everything.
âI want you to make love to me,â you say with a shuttered breath. âShow me how you love me. Show me what I have to look forward to.â
Loganâs tip is enveloped by your heat by the time you finish, and your words were the full confirmation he needed to seat you fully onto his shaft.Â
Itâs like gasping for air with how intense his reunion with you feels. You fit perfectly around him. Itâs almost too good to be true. Part of him is wondering if he is still dreaming, but with how warm and snug you are, it has to be real. This has to be happening.
You lift your hips until all thatâs connected is the head before dropping back down. His cock glides right in and he grunts as you work yourself on him. He guides your movements with his hands, both on your plush ass and giving a squeeze with every bounce. Your arms have since wrapped around his neck, head hiding in his neck. Your hot breath fans across his skin, your teeth nipping at him every time he fills you up.Â
He loves how you are taking what you need, letting you keep the pace to get used to his size. Normally during an intimacy session, he would prepare you more thoroughly. Heâd pleasure you with his mouth, letting his spit coated tongue lubricate your pretty pussy. Heâd finger you open, getting you nice and relaxed for his heavy cock. He would add another when your little noises got rowdier, a tell-tale sign that you needed more. He did everything to ensure you were ready for him, the enjoyment of your pleasure and taste a perk in the endeavor. With how you are riding him, however, it feels like you are preparing him. Taking it slow, letting him savor you, letting him know that this is real and you are his.Â
âYou feel incredible, Lo,â you whimper into his neck. He just about mimics you after hearing you call him by that little nickname.
âI can say the same to you, pretty girl.â He lifts your head by your hair, putting your forehead to his as he rocks up into you. âTaking my cock so well. You were made for me. Ainât that right?â
âMhmm,â you hum. âIâll always be yours. In every lifetime, I am yours and you are mine.â
He chokes out a laugh, completely overwhelmed with emotion. He kisses your swollen lips with ease, his tongue flicking out to savor your taste. Every moan that comes out is captured by his mouth, swallowing the sweet sounds desperately. He notices your hips start to slow, and your whining gets more consistent. He knew you were tiring, but that was okay. He has enough energy and greed to take over. You make him greedy, and he needs more.
âDid you want me to take over, baby?â
âPlease,â you mumble against his lips. âTake me.â
He doesnât need to be told twice. He shifts himself, keeping you two connected as he gets you onto your back. He situates you so your legs are wrapped around his torso, legs pushed down so your thighs are almost to your chest. The angle he has you in gives him the chance to push in just a little more, his tip putting pressure onto your cervix.Â
âOh God, you are so deep,â you mewl, clenching down on his cock causing him to groan at the grip.
âThatâs right, baby. Damn you look so beautiful like this.âÂ
âYeah? I look beautiful with your big cock in my pretty pussy?â
âFuck, you got a mouth on you.â Logan thrusts shallowly in response, a whine ripping out from your throat. âBut to answer your question, you look beautiful no matter what.â
He starts thrusting long, deep strokes into you. He lets one hand stick to your hip, and the other has a gentle grip on your jaw to keep your head in place. His thumb traces your bottom lip, and in an instant your tongue latches to it. It draws it in, getting it so your lips close around it and suck on it as your tongue lathers it. Your eyes shut, and you hum happily like you are savoring the musk from his skin. It enraptured him, making him pick up the pace, hips starting to slam against you.Â
Heâs on the cusp of his release. He doesnât want this end, not by a long shot. But tonight will become tomorrow. A new day will start where the stresses of his mission will come to light. All he can do is savor this last little bit of happiness and hope sometime soon he will wake up with you by his side.
âLo, Iâm close,â you grunt out.
He takes his soaked thumb, bringing it down to your bundle of nerves. âIâll get you there, baby. Cum whenever you are ready.â
He swirls your clit at an easy pace, a contrast to how he is slamming into you. He is battering into your pussy, hitting that spot he knows all too well. Your moans grow louder, more accustomed to his hard hitting movements. The sounds of wet slapping with moaning and grunting fill the room, and with the slightest bit of added pressure to your clit he gets you there; right where he wants you.
Your back is arching off the bed, nails finding purchase on his thighs. Your moans are breathless, the wind knocked out as he continues the fast pace of his hips. He looks down where the two of you are connected, watching the white fluid flow down between your ass and drip onto the bed. He can smell it and something snaps in his brain where he wants more.Â
He can tell you are coming down from your high, but he isnât having any of that. His length stills, fully seated in you, and starts rutting the tip against your g-spot.Â
âFuck, itâs too much,â you cry out. âLogan, please!â
âI got you, pretty girl. Just need you to cum on my cock one more time.âÂ
You nod, and he pushes his hips harder, and it isnât long before you are wailing with another release. This sets him off again, and he pulls almost fully out before pistoning his cock in and out rapidly as he prolongs your orgasm. You are wailing his name, and he can see tears falling down the sides of your eyes from how good he was making you feel. He is on top of a hill about to roll down, and before he releases, he pulls out.Â
Your legs try to shut, but his thighs prevent it. He takes two fingers and sticks them into your cunt to continue riding your release out. His other hand fists his cock over your stomach, and with a growl he is cumming in ropes. White paints your tummy until itâs pooling down into your belly button, drenching the skin and making it sheer. He is breathing heavy, orgasmic bliss fading into something more peaceful. He sees you are on the same boat, chest going up and down. It isnât until he hears a sob crash out from your lips and more tears forming that he snaps out of his daze.
âBaby, whatâs wrong?â He is urgent as he gets off the bed, getting closer to you from the side of the bed. His hands are immediately on your face, thumbs wiping away the new droplets trailing down.Â
âIâm sorry,â you choke, staggered breaths coming from you with a mixture of sobs in between. âIâm okay. It was just a lot.â
âIâm so sorry, sweetheart. I got carried away.â He goes to kiss the apples of your cheeks where the tears have stained, before standing up fully. âLet me get you cleaned, okay?â
He turns to go get a towel from the bathroom when he feels your hand wrap around his wrist, stopping him completely.Â
âIt was a lot, but in a good way.â
He goes to kneel on the ground beside the bed, hands going to yours to kiss your knuckles. âAre you sure you are okay? I wouldnât dream of hurting you,â he murmurs into your skin.Â
âLogan, I have never experienced pleasure like that before,â you say hiccuping, causing a laugh to bubble out after. âI never thought I could experience something like that with someone ever.â
It dawns on him that this is technically your first time with him, meaning once the future sets to the right course, this moment will become the first time he made love to you. His mind goes back to the very first time, both coming back from a night out with a need so deep that it was said and done too quickly. This time, he got to cherish you. He got to make your first time with him feel special and adored. It is surreal, and it is everything.Â
âWhy are you crying?â He hears you whisper, a hand escaping his grip to wipe away his own tears.
He didnât even realize it, but he didnât care. He didnât hide it. He lets you wipe them away, mirroring how he tended to yours. âIâm happy. Happier than I have been in a long time.â
He brings his head down to kiss your lips, a light peck that leads to a few more on your face. A giggle leaves your lips, and he swears his face grew more wet.Â
He looks to see the cum starting to dry on your skin, and he places one more kiss before standing up. âLet me get you cleaned up, and we can rest for a while.â
He rushes to the bathroom, steps heavy, and emerges with a warm, wet towel. He sits on the edge of the bed, taking the fabric to your heat to clean the fluids lingering. He is gentle, not wanting to rub the towel anywhere thatâs still sensitive to the touch. He kisses your knees and the inside of your thighs, the fabric now on your tummy as he wipes you clean. Your skin is cleared of any fluids, and with one last kiss to your flesh he pulls away.Â
He tosses the towel into the sink before going to the other side of the bed, pulling the sheet and comforter back to get under. He reaches over to you, pulling you into him as he adjusts the blanket from under you. He settles with you on his chest, just like you were earlier, with the bedding now over your forms. You snuggle up to him, your fingers twirling around the hair on his chest. His fingers brush through your hair, admiring the afterglow you are giving, and thinking about how lucky he is right now.
You are his baby. His life. His soul. He was miserable without you, but he didnât realize how bad off he was until now. Having you back in his arms, even for a moment, made his soul come to life. It had been rendered useless when it was severed, and now his sense of purpose is strong. The love he is feeling in this room wraps around him snuggly, and he doesnât want to leave its embrace.Â
Your left hand pokes out from in between your bodies, and his free hand goes to twiddle with the fingers. He thinks about how big his hands are compared to yours. His whole fist could cover the entirety of your hand, yet your hands are on the rougher side like his. There are some calluses from what he assumes is drumming. They form along the top of your palm where your fingers connect. He stops where your ring finger lies, and he subconsciously sighs.
He remembers how Storm had helped him find a ring for you. You had said how you would love anything he chose because it was from him. However, he wanted it to be a ring that made a statement for his love. He wanted a ring where every time you looked at it, you would know how much he adored you.Â
He thinks about how back in the future, it is still around his neck like a virtue. It makes him wonder if in the near distant future, when things become sane and good, if he will still have that ring. Will he, who may become a different man after he returns, have the guts to propose to you? He regrets so much, but that is something he regrets greatly. Not proposing before the world fell apart. Not proposing to let you know that he is ready to take the next step, and to let you know he is committed to you even past the point of death. Death do us part doesnât apply to you or him.Â
âWhatâs on your mind?â
He looks down to see you looking up at him, a smile forming on his lips as he takes you in. âJust thinking about how I could go for a cigar right now.â
You smacked his chest, making him grunt out a chuckle. âIâm guessing thatâs a common occurrence after these kinds of things.â
âThat or we go for round two,â he smirks, laughing as you smack his chest again.
âHorndog,â you mumble into his side.Â
âA horndog for you, baby.â He goes to kiss you again but then he hears rapid knocking on their door.
âAre you two decent?â Hank asks loudly from behind the door. âThis is urgent!â
âJust come in, Hank.â Logan pulls the covers further up on you, a slight possessiveness taking over as Hank comes in. Your body is for his eyes only.Â
He thought Hank may feel a little embarrassed seeing the two of you like this, but there is none of that. Hank marched over; any social cues forgotten as he sat on the edge of the bed.Â
âListen, bub, what could possibly be so urgent that you are sitting on the bed I just fucked my girl silly on?â
âLogan!â You scowl.
Hank rolls his eyes. âRaven is going to Washington. Trask is going to be at the White House tomorrow, and she plans to strike. We need to leave tonight.â
âWhat is happening at the White House?â Logan asked, sitting up on his elbows.
Hank shakes his head in a way that tells Logan it isnât for anything good. âThey are presenting the Sentinel Program tomorrow.â
âOh God,â you mutter. âTrask is already that far along? Does that mean they could be unleashed sooner?â
Logan shutters at the thought. The idea of the Sentinels starting their massacre whole decades earlier makes him uneasy. It scares him. He wonders if this means things are now going to be worse than they already were, which is hard to imagine. He doesnât want to imagine it.Â
He wishes he had more time. He doesnât know when he will get to be like this with you again. It could feel like a matter of seconds, minutes, hours, days. He could wake up to a world where you and him donât coincide. But at the end of the day, he needs to pull through for you and everyone else. His main priority is that he wakes up to a world where everyone is alive.
This is his last chance.
âAlright, weâll get up and get stuff together.â Logan says, and with that Hank gets up with a nod.
As he makes his exit, Logan starts to get up, but not before he feels your arms wrapping around his torso trying to pull him back.
âSweetheart, we need to get up,â Logan says softly, not wanting to disturb the peace in this room. Not wanting to unveil their reality.
âJust a few more minutes,â you wager. âIâll freeze time if that means I can stay like this for a few more minutes.â
He canât deny you. God, he canât. He lays back down to his original state, and before he can help himself the words are out in the open.
âI love you.â
You didnât respond, and thatâs okay. He already knows you love him too.
The White House; Washington D.C.
âYes, I am with the marine band.â
âYou are late, Sergeant. Get into position with the others.â
âYes sir!â
You move past the metal detectors, jogging towards the rest of the marine band members. There was an empty spot where the snare lies and you get into position, harness going over your shoulders. You fall into play, Stars and Stripes Forever sounding throughout the set up.
Itâs perfect really. You are in the best position to see everything. You will be able to see Trask, the President, and other high ranking officials. If things fall into complete disarray, you will shift the time backward and have a complete do over. In the meantime, the guys will look for Raven before she can strike.
It was a string of luck thanks to Charlesâs willingness to use his powers again. Hank had told you he had a change of heart, and while you had no proof of what convinced him, you had a feeling it had to do with the man who completely bared his soul to you last night.
Just the thought makes you blush. You arenât one to let someone you barely know in your bed, giving yourself to them completely. Youâve been there, done that, and it never stuck or felt right. With Logan, it felt different. There is a bond between you both thatâs inexplicably there. You have felt it from the start, and it was only confirmed after last night. The way he took care of you, made love to you; you could feel the love he felt for you and while scary to admit, you love him too.
He looks at you like you are the center of his universe. He looks at you like living isnât worth shit unless you are by his side. It pains you but only because whatever happened in his future has scarred him deep. You could feel it in the way he kissed you, and left marks on your body. He was trying to convince himself that he wasnât dreaming; that you were there.Â
You donât know what will happen after today, but what you do know is you will find him. You will find him, learn every detail about him until he is like a second skin, and love him like he deserves. You will make sure of it.
You look towards the metal detectors and see them passing through. You see Logan look in your direction, a smile shining towards you that you mirror right back. He looks you up and down, sending a wink your way before turning back to Charles and once again your face feels hot. His effect on you is absolutely outstanding.Â
You can see Charles scanning the crowd, undoubtedly looking for Raven amongst the thousands of people. You keep your eyes on him, reading his expressions as he continues lurking. You arenât sure what time it is but itâs only a matter of time before President Nixon makes his speech. Even then, that doesnât mean Raven wonât strike before that.
âI havenât found Raven yet. Be prepared.â
You felt Charles rattling in your brain. You look in his direction to see everyone looking towards you and you nod to signal the message was clear.
The conductor cuts off the song, signaling the event is about to start. You focus your attention to the stage, looking for any kind of sign of Raven. Everything seems pristine, Secret Service covered at every point.Â
âLadies and Gentlemen!â You hear someone speak through the microphone on the podium. Your attention goes to the man, someone from Nixonâs advisory team surely, standing before everyone. âIt is my utmost pleasure to welcome Mr. President Nixon!â
You see the conductor wave his baton, signaling to start playing, and quickly you are rolling your sticks once the first beat drops. You watch, trying to look in your peripherals for anything weird, before you hear a gunshot.
Your eyes snap to the stage, and you see Trask lying there with a bullet to his head. People are losing their minds, standing erratically to get away from whoever the shooter was. You drop your drumsticks, quickly snapping your fingers to stop the commotion. Everything freezes, and you take the opportunity to walk away from your post. You make observations, needing to be quick, and it doesnât take long for you to see Raven. Or at least make the assumption that itâs her.
You see she transformed into a man from the Secret Service. The gun has since been lowered and you can see two other Secret Service officials running to tackle. You walk to look at the manâs face, and it makes your lips purse slightly.
She is smiling. There is genuine joy in what she just did. Before time froze over, it was obvious she saw the other men coming to take her down, but she didnât care. You see it in her face: she won. It didnât matter what happened afterwards. She saved her kind, your kind.Â
Except she didnât, and thatâs what kills you as you look at her. Her actions kill so many, and leave so many people without their loved ones. Your future livelihood is dismantled by the Sentinels, so deep down you understand Ravenâs hatred for Trask. You hate him too, but you believe all will come to the light. Trask will get his due diligence, and hopefully itâs something worse than death.
Humiliation. Defunding his work. Life behind bars. For a man like him, death would be too easy.
You pass her, heading towards the rest of the group. You get to Loganâs side, and release a breath you didnât know you needed to release. You lift your arms up and move them down slowly. As they descend, time rolls back like itâs a moveable force. People that swarmed like ants are back in their seats, high security are back at their stations, the President makes his way back behind the stage, and Trask is back on his feet. Your hands clenched tight, holding everything in place before releasing and things continue on completely reset.
You lean down to Charles, making sure he hears you clearly. âSheâs right there to the left of the stage. Act fast.â
Charles looks in that direction, focusing with an urgency as he sets his sights on Raven. You watch the scene unfold again, and see how Raven goes to pull the gun from her jacket but she halts. You see her grow stiff, and her lips move like she is talking to someone.Â
âIâve got her,â Charles says with relief. âI can only hold her for so long.â
âYou two go get her,â Hank says as he gets behind Charles. âHe is right. Charles is still not as strong as he was before. You both need to be quick.â
You nod and the two of you start trekking over to where Raven is. The President is talking, but itâs muddled as you focus. The two of you walk slowly, but with urgency, not wanting to cause any alarm that would halt any progress. That didnât matter, however, because right as you two are on her, a Secret Service agent is in front of you both.
âIâm sorry, but this is as far as you two can go.â He has his hands raised in front of him to prevent any further steps.Â
âBehold! The world will never be the same againâŠâ The National Anthem kicks in, and you turn to see the American flag drop. What you see makes your jaw drop.Â
Eight large robots. They couldnât be more than twenty feet tall. Hell, it looks like they could stomp the average person out. The sheer size of them makes you uneasy, knowing what they can and will do makes your stomach churn.Â
âIs that what they look like?â You say quietly, your back now pressed against Loganâs front.
âThis is just the start.â Logan's right hand grabs yours, squeezing tightly. âBut we can change that.â
You squeeze back just as tight, hoping it conveys that you are with him. âLet me stop the time so you can get her.â You go to snap your fingers, but Logan squeezes your hand again as if to hold off.Â
âWhat?â
âDo you hear that?â He yells over the cheers. âSomethingâs coming.â
Logan keeps looking around, and in his search is when you see something moving from the corner of your eye. You turn, and a lump starts forming in your throat.
âGood GodâŠâ
It is clockwork with how things evolved. The Sentinels, with their yellow eyes and shiny polymer, are no longer on their feet. They are in the air, carefully looking down on the crowd like they are Gods. They look so much bigger off the ground, and it unsettles you to no end.Â
You see Trask and the Major talking, a look of frustration on the scientist's face. It confuses you because he is the one that has control over the giants. However, your question is answered when the sun seems to go away and only shadows linger in the shape of a ring. Rubble and debris fall from the sky, and once you look up you couldnât believe what you were seeing.
A whole fucking stadium. Rows and rows of seats and cement foundation floating in the sky. It moves over the White House like a storm, slowly but surely coming with impending coverage. It is only as the inner circle enters your vision that you see Erik, carrying the weight of it like it was nothing.
The Sentinels rise higher, going up towards the floating anomaly as it surrounds it. You think for a second that maybe they were activated because they detected the threat. However, as you watch them reach the top, taking places like they are guarding a post with arms drawn, you know it wasnât anyone commanding them from the ground, but from the sky.Â
âHoly shit ErikâŠâ you whisper to yourself, some disbelief edged into your voice. Erik was a powerful mutant, that you knew, but this? This was next level.
âIâm getting Raven!â
Before you can say anything, Logan is running to tackle Raven down, but it doesn't matter. The minute he is on his feet, bullets are raining from the sky in droves.Â
âLogan, get back!â You yell, running to pull him back before the mass array of bullets hit him.
âIâll be fine! I can take them!â Logan yells over the madness of crowds flocking away. âWe need to get her!â
âLook around!â You grab his shoulders, shaking them. âIt doesnât matter if we get her now. We need to get Erik and we canât if we are both down!â
You donât wait for him to answer, dragging him to rubble that had made its way to the ground. You look around it, trying to get eyes on Charles and Hank before the ground shakes. Logan has his arms around you, covering your body with his to protect it from any kind of blow.Â
Itâs quiet for a moment as the dust settles. You peep out again, trying to locate the other two again. The field was a ghost town, the crowd able to escape before the stadium trapped them in. The President, Trask, and others were gone, assuming they went into some sort of hiding place that only they know about. It is only then that you realize Raven is no longer to be seen, which makes you think she went into hiding⊠with them.
âOh noâŠâÂ
âWhat?â Logan whispers, his eyes trained elsewhere.
âI think Raven is with Trask.â
âUnfortunately, I think we have a bigger fucking problem now.â Logan curses with eyes unmoving.
You look to see where he is staring, and you see Erik walking towards the White House before stopping. His hands go out in front of him, moving them like he is scanning for something.
You feel something in your mind move, and you gasp when you hear the voice in your head. âCharles?â
âMy dear, we are running out of time.â You hear Charles echo in your head. âIf you or Logan can get Erikâs helmet off of him, I can stop him.â
âOkay, on it.â You turn in Loganâs hold, back now against the rubble. âWe need to get the helmet off him. I will stop time while you grab it.â
âSounds easy enough,â Logan grunts, crouching in front of you.Â
âAlright, here we go.â You focus all your energy on your surroundings before snapping your fingers. Your fists are secured, and you look at Logan before nodding his way. âGo on.â
He goes to get up but stops for a second before coming back down. His lips are on yours, a long peck before releasing you. Youâre stunned, not expecting such a romantic gesture. âIâll be back for you, baby.â
Heâs off, running towards Erik. You watch as he makes it up to him, carefully removing the helmet and putting it under his arm. He is on his way back, holding the helmet close as he gets back to where you stood. You both crouch back down, and you unclench your fists letting time continue its course.Â
âCharles, heâs all yours,â you say with the hope he can hear you.
Itâs quiet for only a moment when you hear something heavy fall to the ground. You hear a yell, one that sounded exactly like Charles, and you shoot up. You see some particles in the air to your right, steel and concrete a heap on the ground. You see brown hair, and then you see Hank, fully in his true blue form, trying to lift the heavy weight off of Charles. Panic sets in, not really sure how bad the damage is but it stirs you to stand up and release the alarming catharsis that bubbles to the surface.
âCharles!â You scream, your fight or flight response taking the former as you run towards them. You sense Logan right behind you, following your trail as you approach the mess. You almost make it, ready to stop time again but then you feel something graze your arm and then a stretch of pain that takes you out.
You fall with a grunt, holding your left arm as you curse to yourself. Blood is making its way down your arm, and you work to put pressure on it but it continues to seep through the cracks of your fingers. Shit, shit, shit!
You hear more bullets go off towards you, and your heart is in your throat as you expect to be battered, but they donât come. They donât come because Logan is in front of you, body jerking as he works to pick you up as wounds form from his back.Â
âHoly shit, Logan!âÂ
âHold on!â He seethes in pain, holding you close as he gets you both behind another pile of rubble.Â
You both have your backs to the scene unfolding, but you know there isnât much time to stay here. With haste, you unbuckle your belt, flinging it out of the jean loops and wrapping it below the bullet wound. Your teeth sink into the leather, pulling it tightly before securing it.Â
You look over at Logan, who is surrounded by the pellets he pushed out from his back. He grunts as one more falls to the ground behind him, and he turns to you with an alertness youâve become all too familiar with.
âAre you okay?â You ask stupidly, because of course he is.
He doesnât answer at first, looking at you and then looking back at the destroyed lawn. It causes you to look too, and you can see Hank clobbering one of the Sentinels as he yanks out its wiring. But heâs outnumbered and itâs only a matter of time before they gang up on him.Â
âWe need to help Hank,â you say, getting ready to stand up before Loganâs hand grabs you by your jean loops.
Loganâs hands are on your face, holding it still as to keep your focus on him. There is conflict in the way he looks at you; a conflict that says you wonât agree with what heâs about to do next. You can read him so easily, and what you are reading makes you uneasy.
âNo, LoganâŠâÂ
âSweetheart, I need you to stay right here.â His eyes are saying so much more in relation, telling you why heâs asking you this. You know he has lost too much, and to lose it all before itâs even started isnât in the cards for him. Still, you canât help the stubbornness that begs to fight with him.
âIâm not leaving you defenseless out there.âÂ
âThen defend us from here,â Logan says firmly, mind unchanging. âI will not lose you here. I am not going back to a future where you donât exist.â
Itâs quiet for a second, words processing in your head. You knew he loved you, but to see it run so deep at his declaration made you want to cry. How is it a man that you havenât known for long, can have such an effect on you? How is it that a part of him already runs so deeply inside you? It leaves you with the conclusion that if you are feeling all of this after a few days, then what he must be feeling is tenfold after a lifetime.Â
Your hands go to his face, mirroring him as you two stare at each other. Heâs waiting for you to accept what he is asking, eyes moving back and forth slightly like he is trying to read your response. You sigh deeply, swallowing the pill he wants you to take before you pull him down to your lips to seal your acceptance.Â
He grunts in surprise, but shortly after melts against you. Itâs a kiss molded into words, one that says âthank youâ and in kind says âIâll see you after this is all overâ. Itâs a kiss that says even when there truly is no time left, there is always time for this, for you, for him.
You pull away, eyes watering as you look at the man who will ultimately become your world and your savior in ways you canât begin to fathom. You give him one more good look, one more stroke of your thumbs against his facial hair, before dropping your hands to surrender.Â
âYou come back to me safe,â you assert. âI will do as much as I can from here.â
Logan responds by kissing your lips again, placing three quick kisses in succession before standing up to run off towards the mess. You peek over from your hiding spot, and you see two of the Sentinels on the ground in its robotic guts. You hear Hank roaring to your left, seeing him fly to the ground onto his back. The Sentinel he was fighting approaches, armed and ready to fire.Â
You clench your teeth as you put your arms out, the wounded one shooting signals to your brain that it aches terribly. However, you push through, focusing on the Sentinels mechanics and the timely energy around it. You watch it slowly come to a stop, and you see Hank look your way before you nod your head to tell him to get the job done.
You watch him spring into action, hands digging into the skull before ripping the head off. You let go, with the Sentinel now inactive, and turn to see Logan with his claws out digging into the chest of another one. His clawed fists go in and out over and over, the automaton down.Â
You go back and forth between Hank and Logan, ensuring them the time they need to defend themselves safely. Itâs a smooth rhythm, and you think things are going well, but then you see Erik appear a few feet away from Logan with metal pieces floating in the air. You go to stop Erik in his tracks, but then you hear running in your direction.Â
âRun!â You hear Hank yell, and you turn to see him sprinting away from two Sentinels.Â
âShit!â You curse, and in the blink of an eye you are running with him, bullets hot on your trail.
You run with purpose, dodging whatever the Sentinels sent your way, but your attention was focused on Logan, who was cutting away at any metallic pieces Erik threw at him. It was a dance, every step forward meant a step back, and from what you were witnessing Logan was the better dancer. However, Erik has always been good at catching up.
The Sentinels are gaining ground, and you knew something had to give. They were doing what they were created for, and they wouldnât stop now, not at this rate. You look at Hank as you both push on, and he looks back at you as he feels your eyes on him.
âWe need to split off!â You yell at him. âYou go towards that car over there, and Iâll go the opposite way.â
You both diverge, running away from one another in the hopes of confusing the Sentinels. You donât hear bullets in your space anymore, but it causes you to look and see Hank surrounded. You go to stop them, but then a gasp shoots from your lungs as you feel metal wrap around your wrists. Next thing you know, you are hanging in the air.
You are thrashing, wrists bound tightly. You see Erik approaching you, and you panic but not because he is approaching you. Itâs because you donât see Logan.
Fuck, whereâs Logan?
âIâm sorry, my little timelord,â Erik says with a hint of an actual apology. âThis is what happens when you donât choose a side.â
âI did what was best for me. No one else,â you grit out. You can feel blood start to trickle down your arm, the stretch opening your wound further.
âI guess youâll see how that turns out for you.â Erik sets you onto the ground with a thud, and suddenly you feel metal coil around your neck. You start to feel the pressure against your throat, making your eyes bulge.
âNo need to be scared, my dear. Just need you out of the picture for a few hours.â Your airways are getting crushed. Your hands are desperately trying to remove themselves from the makeshift cuffs, but to no avail.Â
The coughing fits start, lungs eager for some relief, but they cry out when none comes. Itâs strange to feel your lifespan waning, yet have your mind linger elsewhere.
Please be okay. God, please let Logan be safe.
As if your prayers were answered, you hear him in the distance. You can hear him shouting your name, and you ache at the sound. You are relieved, yet there is a sadness that sticks in your foggy brain. It almost makes you think that soul bonding is an actual force within the universe because you can tell what he is feeling. You can tell he feels like he is witnessing your death a second time.Â
The bondage of metal weakens, air filling your lungs at full capacity. Your hands automatically go to your throat, rubbing the raw skin as you inhale and exhale. Your bearings are dispersed, and you work to gather all the pieces so you can see what is happening. It isnât until you hear Logan yelling in pain, followed by grunts that rip from his gut, that you shoot up. Your eyes focus and what you see burns your chest as you let out a scream that processes faster than your mind can.
Metal rods pierce Loganâs body, curling into his legs and up his chest. They enter and exit like thread, and his facial expression is one of agony. His head turns towards you, his eyes screaming for you to look away and to run and never look back. However, your fears, your anger, your love for him is overcoming and it doesnât take long for you to snap.
Your body screams as you move to your knees and throw your arms up, the aches telling you to stop wearing yourself further. Your power is straining, but your emotions are fueling the fire. No amount of pain will ever amount to the pain of losing Logan.Â
You slam your fists to the ground, a ricochet from the impact spreading. Time stops in motion, the waves of your power spreading and catching everything in its wake. The pain increases, but you donât care about that. You only care about Logan.
Everything is still aside from Loganâs body shakes. You run to him, falling to your knees to get closer. Your energy is depleting as you hold onto time, making your mind race to figure out what to do to help him. Your hands keep going to touch the rods, but back away every time he shudders with discomfort.
âLogan, tell me what to do,â you plead. âTell me what I need to do to get these out.â
âFuckâŠâ Logan is working his jaw, seemingly trying to calm himself down. âTry pulling on one.â
You nod, placing both hands on a rod buried in his back. You counted down from three, and with a deep breath you pulled as hard as you could. The second Logan started yelling though, you let go.
âShit! Please stop!â Logan shouts, the metal rods excruciating.
âLogan, we need to get these out of you please.â You were starting to sob; your hands running over his neck and face to try and soothe him.
âSweetheart, please,â Logan grunts, trying not to move too much. âI promise you this wonât kill me.â
âBut you are suffering,â you whisper, tears staining your face as new ones form. âI can hold this just please. You have to push them out or something.â
Something changes in Loganâs face, a sense of realization as you watch his eyes widen. A broken laugh leaves his lips, eyes glossing. âI finally understand.â
âW-what?â You stutter.
âI desperately wanted to save you, and I couldnât. You had begged me not to, and I couldnât fathom it.â He starts to cough, groans filling the cracks. âBut I understand now. Iâm sorry for not understanding before.â
âPlease donât,â you choke. âThat doesnât matter. What matters now is getting these out of you.âÂ
Your hands go to the rods again, but his hand grabs yours before you make contact. You are sure you look pitiful, especially as you arenât one to beg. You guess when feelings get so strong, it doesnât matter. Your heart is fully on your sleeve for Logan to see, and what you are showing is reflected in his pretty, glossy, hazel eyes.Â
âI need you to promise me something, sweetheart,â Logan says gently. âI need you to promise me that you will find me.â
âWhere? Where will I find you?â Your voice wavers, unable to keep your emotions at bay.Â
âYou know I canât say, baby.â Loganâs hand squeezes yours, trying to be reassuring. âBut you have before. I know you will find me again.â
You donât know what to think of that. It could be years before you find him. Will it be right before the world goes to shit? Will it be in a decade or two from now? How can you go on living your life as normal when you donât know when you will find him? Or how can you live knowing he isnât right beside you?
âDonât overthink this. Everything will be okay.â
You sniffle as you look at him, a tired smile on his face. A small laugh passes through your sobs. âNot very in character for you to be optimistic.â
âAnd it will be the last time you see me so optimistic for a long time,â Logan smirks. âBut you can change that.â
You get on your stomach, moving so your face is level with his and kiss him one last time. Itâs bittersweet, tasting him on your tongue. You hope you are conveying the answer he is looking for, one that tells him you promise to move heaven and earth for him. One that tells him you promise you are his, and no one will ever have you for as long as you both live. A promise that tells him you will find your way home to him, and you will bring him home to you.
You let go, breath wavering as you know what you are about to witness. Even with his reassurance, it will be hard to watch, and you know the tears will fall. It is inevitable.
âBaby, go find Charles. Make sure he is okay and stick with him. Once you find him, let me go.â
You nod, pecking his lips one more time before getting up to your feet. You look at him, taking in every detail that imprints your memory, making sure to never forget that the man before you is your soulmate for life.
âI love you, Logan.â You say with teary eyes.Â
âI love you. Iâll see you soon.â He smiles, before closing his eyes, preparing himself.
You quickly run off, afraid that if you didnât you wouldnât allow yourself to. You run over to the giant terrain of rubble where Charles was, and you see him lying there frozen like everything else. You maneuver into his spot, a tight fit with enough room for you to situate yourself. You look back out onto the field, and you quiver as you see Logan lying there just waiting as he suffers in pain. You look down, eyes squeezing tight before you snap your fingers, a heavy weight off your shoulders as you suck in a deep breath.
âOh darling, when did you get in here?â
You open your eyes to see Charles, breathing heavier than usual as he lays in discomfort. You work to prop him up, holding onto him so he can sit up right. It is at that moment you hear yelling, and you look back out to see Logan in the air with Erik holding his metallic weight. You want to look away, unable to bear the sight, but they stay glued to them. Then, you see Erik flex his fingers.
As you watch Logan fly away, your lungs urge a cry to curl out into the atmosphere, but you suppress it. After everything, you have faith in him. He gave you the faith you needed to believe everything will turn out alright. Even as you watch Erik yank the bunker up from the ground and out the White House, you have faith that the future will be safe, because you wonât let Logan down. You have a promise to keep.
Logan has become your Orion; your guiding star. He has become your alpha and your omega. He is your sole mission in this life, and he is not a mission you plan to fail.
You will set things right, and you will find him.Â
Xavierâs School for Gifted Youngsters; Westchester, NY; Year 2023
The first time ever I saw your faceâŠ
Music. Soft, calming music enters his conscience. Heâs heard this melody before in the same fashion, but that was forever ago, right?Â
I thought the sun rose in your eyesâŠ
Logan stirs, his brain doing a leap and a jump from REM sleep as it tries to wake up. He has lived this moment before, as the music says he has. Is he back to where he started? Or is it something else?
And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gaveâŠ
Where is he? The last thing he remembers was drowning. Metal pierced his body so deep he could taste it with freshwater. It should linger, but it doesnât. He doesnât taste anything abnormal. Heâs on a bed. Did someone save him? Whose bed is this?Â
To the dark and the endless skiesâŠ
His eyes open, sunlight shining brightly as they adjust. The room is familiar, and it dawns on him that itâs because it is his room. Their room.Â
He turns to his side slowly, his body still adjusting to whatever the fuck it was heâs waking up to. He sees the little radio on the bedside table, the holographic globe spinning as the words âGolden Oldiesâ glide around it.Â
And the first time ever I kissed your mouthâŠ
Holy shit⊠he did it.Â
Suddenly, the door opens, and nothing could have prepared him.Â
âHey, sleepyhead!â
There you were in all your glory. You were dressed for the day: a tight and long black velvet skirt with a short black sleeve shirt and black combat boots. There are little crow's feet and bunny lines by your eyes and your hair has grown out. He is starstruck, and his heart is threatening to leap out of his chest.
You walked up to him, your legs touching the bed as you looked down at him. âI know I look good. No need to let the flies in.â
Logan shuts his mouth, moving to sit up. There are so many things he wants to say, do. But nothing will come out. All he can do is stare and bumble like an idiot.
âYou know itâs nine, right? You missed your first class.âÂ
His class?
âWhat?â
âDonât worry, Lo. Your students got a little lesson from me about 70s music culture, so they werenât totally out of a history lesson.â You say with a wink.
He doesnât respond, eyes mesmerized as you walk over to the desk, putting away folders from what he assumes was the previous class.
âCan you believe these kids know nothing about the Ramones? Or even ELO or Fleetwood Mac? Itâs blasphemous.â You shut the drawer, and go to lean back against the desk, smiling at him.
âIâll get up, baby. Donât you worry about me.â You say in a mock deep voice, pushing yourself off the furniture. âLast night must have really worn you out for you to sleep like the dead.âÂ
You are giggling and Logan is on edge. You are here. You are alive. He was hopeful that would be the case, but to see everything come to fruition was a lot to process.Â
âLo, baby, are you okay?â You are in front of him, moving in between his legs.Â
He canât help himself. He has his arms around your thighs, pulling you onto his lap. His hand secures itself at the nape of your neck, bringing your head down to his so his lips can intercept yours. Your skirt has ridden up, scrunching up at your ass giving Logan the chance to mold his hand into the flesh. He kisses you with ferocity, needing everything from you.
âLogan,â you laughed between his kisses. âI canât believe you want to go again after last night, you dog.â
âYouâre here,â Logan groans against your lips. âMy baby, youâre here.â
âOf course Iâm here. Why wouldnât I be?â Your hands scratch his head, and he simpers as his mouth attaches to your neck, sniffing your pulse point as he keeps you firmly against him. You smell so good, so much so he wants to soak you into his skin.
âYou are acting so strange right now, baby. Are you sure everything is okay?â
Logan lays his head against your chest, listening to your heart flutter away. He could cry listening to it, the comforting sound creating a lullaby that will lull his sore head to rest. Itâs different hearing it now, knowing that when he wakes up once more, you will be here. You will be by his side when he goes to sleep at night, and when he wakes up. He will share every sunset and sunrise with you, something he will never take for granted for even a second.Â
He feels your hands cradling his head, keeping it steady as he starts to rock you in his arms. âWhat are you thinking, Lo?â
He lifts his head to look at you, your eyes full of warmth. You are looking at him with such patience and poise. Your hands are still on his head, and he goes to move them to his temples.Â
âShift my mind.â
âLogan,â you say, taken aback and unsure but he quells your worry with another slow kiss.
âTrust me,â he murmurs against your mouth. âI need you to understand what I am feeling right now.â
He shuts his eyes, hoping you will indulge him and he smiles when he feels the warmth at his temples spread. He thought his mind going back to his last memory of drowning would cause panic, but he is calm. Maybe itâs because you are able to keep him afloat as you rewind what played out.
It is short lived, but soon he feels your hands go down to the scruff of his facial hair. He opens his eyes and he sees the tears welling in your eyes with a smile.Â
âMy God, you did it. You remember,â you choked out. Logan canât help but smother your lips again before kissing your tears away.
âYou did a lot of the heavy lifting, sweetheart.â Logan chuckles against your skin. âBut most importantly,â he pulls away, hands going to your face to make sure you understand how sincere he is. âYou found me. Just like you promised me.â
âI said I would,â you say through tears. âI was determined to find you. To share this life with you.â
This life. A life with all the good things and even the bad ones. A life that he gets to live with you. This new life: a second chance. With this second chance, he isnât going to waste it.Â
âClose your eyes,â Logan says with a peck.
You shut them, and he carefully sets you on the bed for him to stand up. He rushes to the bookshelf, hoping that in this new timeline he was smart enough to have gotten the one thing that showed complete and utter devotion. Even more so, he hopes he hid it where he originally had.Â
He finds the royal blue spine, pulling it out to open to the first few pages before the hole within the book is revealed. His lips turn with a quiver, seeing the ring just as it was before. He picks it up, holding it out in the sunlight to watch the diamond sparkle and the gold ban shine. Itâs simple but you were never one for extravagant things. After a life of running free, you wanted the simple life and that is exactly what he will give you.
He walks back around the bed, getting on his knees to settle between your legs as he spreads them. Your skirt rode up again and he canât help but kiss your left thigh and give the other a squeeze. The sweetest noise comes from you, and it only makes him nip at the skin.Â
âGod, you are such a tease.â
âI canât resist,â he hums before lifting his head. He holds out the ring and with care takes your left hand in his right.Â
âGo ahead and open those pretty eyes for me.âÂ
He watches your eyes flutter open, a gasp falling from your lips when your eyes fall onto his palm. Your fingers instinctively went to it, and Logan held it more towards you to let them grace the ring.Â
âIâve thought about how Iâve wanted to do this so many times,â Logan starts. âSo much so that I pushed it off until it was too late. I will not make that same mistake twice.â
âLogan,â you say with your fingers trailing to his face, as if telling him nothing is his fault. He knows.
âI know I have so much to catch up on and learn. There will be things I am not aware of. You may be different, and I may be different,â He takes the ring and your left hand, holding it near but not quite enacting the officiality. âBut the one thing that will never change is how you will always be at the forefront of my mind because I am nothing without you. At the end of the day, I want to come home to you as your husband and you as my wife if you will have me.â
This is such a vulnerable moment, and there was a time where it would eat him up alive. However, being right here with you, proposing to you in this shared room under the light of the morning, encourages him like nothing else. Vulnerability with you gives him strength.
You are biting your lip, eyes watering again as you nod your head profusely. âPut that ring on my finger, handsome.â
He slides the ring onto your ring finger, settling into place perfectly. You held it up, and he watched as you admired the piece, the sparkle of the diamond reflecting in your eyes. It sparks you to look back at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and he notices you shift until your lower body pushes him onto the floor. Your arms bring him in, his head meeting yours as lips reconnect once more.
âI love you so much, Logan. I am truly the luckiest woman alive.âÂ
All he can think is if you were the luckiest woman, then he is the luckiest man. One decision could have led to a world in which you didnât exist or one where you two would just be specks living completely different lives. To have woken up in a new world, one thatâs more promising, is luck after the hell he had experienced. Having you here in his lap, kissing him like he is the center of your universe, makes him weep with joy.Â
You are his world, and in this new life, rather than the world stopping, it continues to spin forward.
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett smut#logan howlett angst#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#logan howlett fic#logan smut#logan angst#logan fic#x-men fic#my fics
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(Ha,ha edited the post and tags cause I accidently posted it early and there is no art yet!, it's not finished!)
One of the perks of being an artist, is that when ideas like this Ghost!siffrin au eat at your brain you can draw them!
Oh, and there are two of them now, one possessing their body and one who is just a ghost. (I had too many ideas for both, and i couldn't pick just one to focus on, lol.)
Under this read more, I shall give a huge info-dump on my two new blorbos~
So! Some facts about ghost siffrin who has possessed their dead human body. I dont have names to differentiate ghost siffrin and possessing their body siffrin, so this one will be possessed!siffrin for now, name pending??? this one is definitely aware he isn't human. They don't quite know their a ghost that died and possed their dead body, just that they definitely aren't a human! Their very desperate to pretend they are still human, so their more obsessed with appearing "normal." They get verrrry anxious when people point out their oddities, especially ones they can't fix (like how they just dont age, despite never using body craft, how young they look despite claiming to be an adult, and I dont just mean that their short, (in which their almost bonnies height) but that they look like a child, no older than a teenager. )
Fun fact, possessed!siffrin can barely taste food! Darn those dead taste buds! For that reason they tend to lean very heavily towards foods with a lot of taste, like more spice than the human body should be able to withstand, I think they'd even like certain foods near charred just so they can taste them.
Then the other one, that's ghost siffrin, and he has a VERY different experience than possessed!siffrin , for he doesn't know he is a ghost or inhuman.
So they mostly go through pre-canon normally, where everyone do notice some...oddities. like if you look too close at siffrins skin they seem almost transparent? Or how they almost seem to faintly glow at night... not to mention the weird dripping sounds... Isn't siffrin terrified of water?
Anyway, when the time loops start, that's where things get REALLY interesting. Cause Ghost siffrin has to deal with both the time loops and confronting the fact that their a ghost that died! All those weird oddities from before become harder to ignore, and the more siffrin notices them the more their human disguise falls apart.
In my opinion, the form of a ghost is all about their perception of themselves. If siffrin thinks he is human their human. But if siffrin thinks too much about being a ghost... things get weird.
...Like during one loops snack time, thinking too hard about being a ghost, they start to wonder where the food they've been eating goes and this time... the food falls right through them instead of being consumed.
Or during bad touch... well, they might just phase right through :)
Wow! This was long. If you read all this, you are a saint.
These two have eaten away at me, I love both changing the time loop events and changing pre-canon! There are so many more ideas that I haven't touched yet, I have so much for both of them. they're so different despite being based on the same concept
(The art will be finished soon, lol, my bad)
#I adore these two#my guys~#ghost!siffrin au#possesed!siffrin au#I thought about this all night#holy hecking stars#in stars and time spoilers#isat#in stars and time#isat spoilers
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Okay, I lied, Iâm sorry. Iâve been trying to do something for a Sebagni fic but I genuinely have no energyâŠ
Instead how about some more Sebagni HCs so I can make up for it? And I will get to ACTUALLY writing a modern au for them⊠eventually!
So, as always, hereâs some HCs for the ship that has my heart currently - warning: this one contains nsfw under the cut.
Agni is a very affectionate person everywhere - he loves showering Sebastian with compliments and talking about him to everyone, and heâs a fan of PDA. However, Sebastian is a lot more reserved on this - he will absolutely speak well on Agni if heâs brought up in conversation, and he will lean into Agniâs touch, but heâs mainly affectionate in privacy, to maintain his aesthetic. He has no problem teasing the other in public, though.
They barely ever argue or disagree, as they have similar opinions on the things they normally talk about, and what Seb does disagree with Agni on, he is instead shown a new perspective that leaves him thinking more deeply about it.
Saying this, when they do argue (which, again, I couldnât see them doing often. It would be a very rare and unfortunate occurrence), everyone notices how Agni is a lot more anxious and a little impatient, and Seb is a LOT more irritable and snappy.
Ciel and Soma are like their adopted children. Whenever the two get into trouble as kids do, Sebastian is the one they face lecturing from. Agni makes sure they are okay, but isnât ever harsh on them, so Seb has to be strict for the both of them.
They are very protective over one another. Agni in the sense that he really cares for everyone in his life, and Seb in the sense that itâs âhis humanâ. So if somebody insults/upsets one of them, they should watch their back.
As far as relationships in kuroshitsuji go, theirs is genuinely pretty healthy (or as healthy as it can be). I feel like if Agni did actually know Sebastian is a demon, he might be surprised, sure, but otherwise not really bothered about it. He is of the firm belief that anyone can change and be a good person - just as he did - so, even if Seb is a being of sin, he would still love and protect him.
One time, Soma flung the doors to Agniâs room open in the morning, and was shocked to see Sebastian sitting in Agni's bed, wrapped in his khansama's arms as they had been enjoying the early hours together. The prince may be young and energetic, but he wasn't about to separate the two - who he thought were so clearly soulmates - so he immediately apologised and left.
In terms of their sex life, Agni is really soft. He likes praising his partners, kissing them gently, taking his time, and I could see him doing body worship. Sebastian sometimes manages to convince Agni to be a bit more rough with him but, surprisingly (to himself too), he enjoys the praise a lot more than heâd expected...
Aftercare is Agniâs expertise. He tends to feel really guilty if Seb mentions any pain after their nights together, and is so sweet with him right afterwards - cuddling, bringing him water, cleaning them both up, immediately tending to any wounds⊠even just light bruises.
Agni loves it when Sebastian rides him. To him, itâs like the ideal position - facing each other, close proximity to allow for kisses or touches, etc. As soon as Seb learnt this, he also found out that, to get Agni flustered and heated quickly, he just had to straddle him. He uses this way too much, and it still works every time.
Sebastian doesnât have many stand-out preferences, but there are a few that catch him off guard. One of these, Agni learnt, is fingering - especially while kissing. Seb prides himself on his physical self-control, so both were just a little concerned when he started shaking and gasping into the kiss. It also helps that Agni has his blessed right handâŠ
Last, quick one: Agni often cries in the act, and Seb finds this incredibly endearing.
Thatâs it for now, thank you for reading and I will write the modern au fic soon! Let me know me if you want it super sweet or angsty or nsfw etc. I donât mind, I need to practise more lol.
#black butler#kuroshitsuji#sebagni#sebastian x agni#sebastian michaelis#sebastian black butler#agni#agni black butler#sorry about the fic đ#I will write it when I find the energy and motivation#I have too many ideas in my brain right now#no minors please
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I'm thinking about keith and how he grew up as a mixed kid but didnt know he was mixed. But there has to be Some things he did that was more galra
So like. As he grew up his hair got a bit of a purple twinge to it (not super noticeable, but definitely there). He gets very slight fangs. I think purring/growling is so fun in concept (but before voltron the last time he purred was probably around shiro. If not that than his dad. Keith growling is more common)
Also i feel like his dad would have taught him some galra shit he learned from krolia and when keith went to school everyone was so confused about some of this little boys interactions
Anyways voltron time now. Pidge and hunk are like "guys. I swear i heard keith purr. This is crazy" and lance is like "yeah? He growls too. This isnt news." Bc he pays so much attention to his rival 24/7
And when keith joins the blade he sees them do the some of the same shit that he did as a little kid and hes like "oh. It was galra traditions. Thats cool"
#this idea has been in my brain for a couple days and i have no clue how i would draw it without doing like. a multiple page comic#and i did too many multiple page comics for school last semester. there is no motivation to do a longer comic right now#galra keith#keith#voltron#also klance#maybe i would write a fic if i were better at writing. or had more confidence writing
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A rather old sketchy sketch of two of my fave bois chatting ~ đŻđ¶
#link click#tgcf#lang qianqiu#cheng xiaoshi#ariowl's doodles#i just think they'd genuinely get along!! idk why- but my brain has convinced me it's possible!!!#iirc i did this in 15 mins bc i just really needed to get the idea out#maybe I'll redraw it properly.. or maybe not (i have too many wips right now lol)
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dsaf's narrator will always be so mysterious like What the Fuck was up with dee hearing them that one time
#i have many Many rambles about the narrator#within my brain#but they are very long#maybe i will write them down someday. but they're Very Interesting#like right now the closest i can think to what they could be is probably Just Some Guy with the Narrator Job#or maybe even like...some sort of tulpa similar to how fredbear is??? but i doubt that's the case#i think the idea of blackjack being the narrator would be Very Good. heck i think even maybe blackjack *should* have been the narrator#BUT . that is definitely not the case. and there's too much evidence that it's not to even be headcanon for me :( even though it is a very#fun idea#ANYWAY. i'll stop now before i end up typing the whole thing out in just the tags bc that's a waste#dee being able to hear the narrator in this One Instance is just very. Hm!#dsaf#dayshift at freddyâs#narrator
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buck and eddie would be the most insane PTA moms ever, actually. because eddie loves his son and being a bitch and buck loves bossing people around with a clipboard and being involved.
#eddie would absolutely have beef with one of the moms over something stupid like the bake sale banner colors or something#and would convince buck to join the planning/organizing commitee and buck would be all okay!!!! yay that sounds so fun!! :)!!#and buck would end up taking it Very Seriously and whenever eddie tries to tell him ideas for the bake sale buck would get all ah ah ah#as a member of the committee i cannot consider new ideas without consulting the other committee member#eddie always complains that hes just brain storming and needs to bounce ideas off of buck and buck would just be all rules are rules eddie#so eddie has to present his ideas to the pta like all the other parents and buck doesnt ever appear to treat his ideas any differently so#eddie always catches his eye after hes done and winks at him and buck just glares back at him with red ears and ofc buck (usually) ends up#voting in favor of eddie and buck scolds him after meetings because âits inappropriate to flirt to try and get my favor eddieâ#âi already have your favor buck. and when you have a clipboard its really hard not to flirt.â#also you know buck would be all over the micromanaging#like âhi jill you wrote down on the spreadsheet that you were going to make four dozen brownies#NOT four dozen chocolate chip cookies. now we have more chocolate chip cookies than we'll be able to sell and not enough brownies.â#and eddie would love getting involved like âyeah jill WAY too many cookies. now the sale is ruined and the kids will never get their trip.â#âeddie why dont you go set up your booth? you shouldve already done that by now...â#âright....â#like eddie would love arguing with the moms about like which activity is more suitable for earth day or whatever#they would literally love it so much
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the challenge of i should commission art of my ocs. would love to commission like, siiyr or bokrae, maybe krachyn or jula. siiyr or bokrae would make the most sense, maybe krachyn. i think theyre the ones with the most detailed notes on their anatomy
but also
oh god i cannot subject another artist to the anatomical war crimes i committed in making these ocs
#toy txt post#ig id be best off commissioning someone w a lot experience w like. centaurs. let alone commisioning them actually doing anything#interesting. the good bad news is ai cant do it either. fucking i cant even do it. why did i make these bitches. i gave bokrae a gf#but shes not. she cant even. her lips dont really do a kiss shape shes all teeth#siiyr has too many fucking elbows and a weird skull situation#bokraes skull continues to break my brain. i think it does break physics in universe. birdie did weird shit w that eye#its constantly trying to explode#the art ideas i have for bokrae and siiyr have plagued me for years even now in my depression funk of no new ideas#i cant bring myself to subject other artists to them?????#i should specify Bokrae's teeth more tho probably. i used to jokingly explain it away as she has all the teeth/they change#and. they do. canonically birdie has to replace all of her bones over time especially her skull. but also#that was me being lazyyyyyyyyyyyy#idk i know you dont necessarily need like a super detailed ref sheet to commission things but like. if i was commissioning my own ocs id#want that probably?#maybe i will try to draw the girls today. probably not doing anything interesting#bc i have not drawn for One Billion Years and im out of practice with Normal Human Anatomy let alone#these fucking Monsters#also maybe one day ill figure out Jared#pigeon head on a deaths head moth body with gemstone eyes is something i can see in my head but when i try to draw it it doesnt look right#so. need to work on that? the main thing about jared is that he needs to Scuttle#and id like to incorporate a pigeon#hm#hmmmmmmm
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// wip day.
tagged by; @adelaidedrubman, @katsigian and @hibernationsuit, thank you so much!! tagging; @reaperkiller, @envergothash, @dickytwister, @shellibisshe, @secondsundering, @devilbrakers, @dekariosgale, @velocitic, @necro-hamster and YOU!
thought i'd do something different for this today :^) i'm working on a powerpoint (inspired by ezra velocitic thank u for the idea ^-^) to hopefully one day be able to explain the cyberpunk extended blorboverse that red reaperkiller and i have been working on for over a year now! it also includes my own story with vincent and his friends since the two stories eventually come together sometime in 2083 and 2084 (yeah i know the game is called 2077 i don't care leve me aloe). here's some slides to give you an idea of what kind of lore to expect :^)
#tag games#so many beautiful people in my phone with the same names so i'm using urls as last names now sorry#i have no idea who has wips also so i'm just out here tagging. feel free to kill me for whatever reason#sparing you the details of all the serpent projects for now but those are in there too. don't even worry about it#all our guys have their own slide and sometimes even a second introduction because there's different time periods i work in#the main storyline for the arasaka gang for example runs from 2065 to 2073 which is project cobra#but then some guys from that group of people become relevant again in 2077 and they look vastly different by then#it's a lot of work but it's fun :^) i'm over the 100 slides right now and we're not even close to being halfway there#cassidy only JUST got introduced in all of it and he is the main character of killing era alongside seb WEHJDHJGFDHJGDFG#also i'm showing off the family slides because of the face claims. because they are scratching my brain#the bullet points are incredibly simplified because there's so much more going on with these people but as i said. 100 slides.#if the relationship slide is confusing you wait until you get to see the club bodytalk polycule :( sorry
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I would like to know the idea you had for whumptober but didnât end up using đ
Basically:
Oops! First got resurrected and immediately and accidentally adopted a shadow gremlin child
#answers from the floor#anon#my brain latched onto it last night and now I'm trapped#I have too many ideas right now and too many unfinished fics and too many things i haven't updated in months and years and#hhhhhhhhh#i am. feeling slightly overwhelmed *shaking*#but i really do like this idea
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terraria is a very dangerous game for me to play because it caters to the deep autistic desire to have so many little fucking collections
#skye's ramblings#i fucken love terraria. one of those games i get really fixated on n then go months without playing once i get bored. never ending cycle#but like theres so many THINGS in this game. ive collected every enemy banner all but two pet summons almost every quest fish etc etc#do you want to collect things and build fun displays for them? well terraria will ruin your life. with love#theres another thing im obsessed with its building my little towns you have no idea. also dressing up my little character <3#keeps me occupied while i finish my last classes too. brain is too full of assignmence and The Disabilities to draw right now.. agony#anywayay shoutout to me hitting my 500th hour of terraria onthe switch. WAHO
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Current Mood:
#when your brain is filled with Thingsâą#but brain no wanna brain#i have ideas for too many WiP's atm#and none of it wants to come out in any sort of coherent fashion#i have ideas for 2 prompts (that won't come out the way i have them in my head)#longfic chapter(s)#new tkb chapter (still not coming out how i have in head)#a sequel to Returned#metal band AU (that i will most likely never write)#i need a way to put all these Thingsâą into a filing system#because right now brain feels like a disorganized mess
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#im sleep deprived or more like im having another brain fog moment#i also realize i might have undiagnosed something#too many backlogs which understandably is my fault#im too slow and inept to manage my time no matter how much people try to help me#why am i still here i have no idea either#why do they even put up with my bullshit is beyond me#i dont know what else to do right now....#god help me...
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Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself
#nearly bought a digital typewriter today. actually i DID buy a digital typewriter today. officially yes i have bought a digital typewriter.#the money for the digital typewriter has left my account but i have emailed them to cancel the order because i can't in good faith buy#a digital typewriter when i don't fucking WRITE#i thought it might help me get back into it. distraction free and while allowing me to not judge my own writing#and be continuously editing while i write and going 'i'm crap i'm crap i'm crap no one will ever read this and if they do they will think#that i'm garbage and that i should feel bad etc etc etc'#but it's too expensive and i have the feeling i wouldn't even like or use the thing once i got it#because the IDEAS! the ideas aren't coming to me. or rather they are but none of them seem to stick#i feel underconfident in writing any of them#and then i have old projects that i've always wanted to get back to like the tennis romance thing but SO much has changed since i first#started drafting it. like i don't even know if i like the main couple anymore. i kind of want to put both of them with different OCs of min#but it'd switch up the WHOLE story if i had a different cast#in fact most of the problem lies in the fact that i have this long-running bedtime story i tell myself every night with lore#and a massive cast of characters that i switch out depending on who i'm most interested in right now and every so often i incorporate new#themes and ideas and motifs and plot points sometimes based on media i've been watching because it's MY bedtime story and it doesn't matter#if i plagiarise in my own brain. but then obviously i can't plagiarise in real life#and none of my bedtime stories are GOING anywhere. sometimes i only get through a scene or two before i fall asleep#all of which means my bedtime story is not so much a sweeping epic novel but a sitcom with way too many characters#most of which are werewolves to be honest and sometimes for my own wish fulfilment one of them will walk out of my head#and take care of my problems for me by lending me ÂŁ1million or murdering my best friend's ex. in my mind obviously#so it's like. it's a case of getting in there and annexing off the stuff i think i can use#it's like yeah i've definitely written several romance novels in my head in the process of this but does it matter if they're IN my HEAD#to be honest i feel like my main strength is in creating characters. like i have this one family of werewolves i've been slowly but surely#adding members to since i was like 16. maybe younger? no yeah i think i made the first one when i was 12#they're compelling to ME anyway. i care about them. it's just PLOTS. i can't plot#if a book could just be a lot of dialogue and sex scenes and silly moments and character studies i'd be alright#i also can't describe settings. don't ask me to because i can't#and now i'm just annoyed with myself because i sat down at my laptop to try to write and instead i'm here complaining about how i don't wri#and if i had the digital typewriter... i mean i'd probably still be doing this i'd just no longer have ÂŁ300#i don't have the ÂŁ300 anyway. i hope to christ they refund my card i'm a fucking idiot
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