#Shs cyclops

[dumpingscreenshotshere]

If a man told me this, I would be disgusted. But I'm more forgiving when it's a woman.

Because women are sexy

[flyguy-bs]

X Mansion

[rhys-writes-some-shit]

Group Introductions

Alastor x Shy!Reader (QP)

(ft. BFF Charlie)

(A/N: I tried with this one, guys. No promises :') Also damn, I am on a roll)

It wasn’t very often that someone caught Alastor’s eye, but for some reason, you kept popping up. You often showed up at the hotel to help your close friend, Charlie, with whatever needed to be done, but you usually kept to yourself. In fact, Alastor could probably count on one hand the amount of times he’d seen you talk to anyone besides Charlie. 

So imagine his surprise when you nervously approached him, fidgeting with your hands behind your back politely. “Excuse me, Mr. Alastor, b-but Charlie is wondering where you put the gold-inlaid tea set from Asmodeus. Sh-she says she can’t find it.” 

You kept your eyes downward, careful not to look directly at the Radio Demon. Your heart was doing flips in your chest, anxious that you’d say something wrong and that he’d get mad at you, or worse.

“Oh!” Alastor grinned down at you, amused. “Hello there, my dear. The tea set is in the back of the tallest cabinet. I found the designs quite off-putting. Might I ask why Charlie is looking for it?”

“I don’t know,” you replied quietly. “Thank you.” With that, you scurried off, Alastor watching you curiously.

Whenever you were at the hotel, you noticed how Alastor was always around. You wouldn’t say he was watching you per say, but he was just always… there. If you needed something and Charlie wasn’t around, he’d approach you and try to help. You never took him up on his offers, preferring to do things on your own, but it was appreciated nonetheless. 

“Hey,” Charlie was saying one day. The two of you were carrying boxes down to storage. “Have you ever met the other hotel staff? Or our residents? You’re here often enough.”

Hesitating, you shook your head. “No. I talked to Alastor once, though. But it’s okay, I don’t need to meet them.” You added that last part hurriedly. The last thing you wanted to happen was for Charlie to go around introducing you to everyone one at a time. Not only would that be extremely embarrassing, but you just… didn’t feel comfortable talking to people.

Surprise, surprise, that was exactly what Charlie did. 

You’d been dragged along to a group session against your will, causing you to sit in a corner, hoping no one would acknowledge you. That technique didn’t seem to work, however, since everyone kept looking towards you anyway. 

“Alright, everyone! Before we start today’s session, I want to introduce someone to you all!” Motioning towards you, Charlie urged you out of your corner. She looked so happy and excited, you just couldn’t say no to her. Despite the anxiety making your hands shake, you stood and awkwardly shuffled over to Charlie’s side. “This is one of my best friends!” Then, one by one, she started pointing everyone out. 

“That’s Vaggie, you’ve met her before!” Vaggie waved at you, giving you a reassuring smile, or as reassuring as she could manage.

“That’s Angel! He was our first resident, and has been staying here the longest!” The white spider demon, who you’d seen around but never interacted with before, glanced up from his phone to wave at you. He seemed wholly disinterested in the exchange, which didn’t help the pounding in your chest. 

“Next to him is Sir Pentious!” 

The snake demon waved exuberantly, smiling. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!” You only nodded in reply in an attempt to be polite, trying to keep your eyes down. 

“And then there’s Niffty.” The small cyclops demon was much too preoccupied trying to stab a bug that was around beneath the furniture to bother acknowledging you or Charlie. You’d worked with Niffty before, helping make some of the beds, but you’d never spoken a word to her. You were okay with that. 

“Husk.” Upon hearing his name, the bartender only glanced up, before shrugging and going back to reorganizing his liquor cabinet. Like Niffty, you’d also helped him out before at Charlie’s request, but a word had never been spoken between the two of you. He didn’t seem very friendly anyway. 

A shadow grew behind you before Alastor’s tall figure appeared beside you. “And you’ve already met me before. A pleasure, my dear.” Dramatically, he gently took your hand and brought it to his lips. Your face went beet red (or whatever color your blood was) as you took your hand back quickly, nearly hitting Alastor as you did so. 

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you mustered, voice barely audible to yourself, let alone to those further away. “Excuse me.” You ran out the room before Charlie could even think of stopping you, finding a spare closet to hide in. 

Recounting the interaction in your head, you groaned as you placed your head in your hands. Maybe if you never came back to the hotel, you wouldn’t have to deal with any more embarrassing interactions? Why did Charlie have to single you out like that? She knew you weren’t a very social person! 

Not returning to the hotel wasn’t an option, you decided, hiding in that closet. You cared for Charlie too much to let her down like that. She’d told you so many times how much she valued your help. So maybe… just not interact with anyone else ever again? That could work, right?

Your mind kept going back to how Alastor kissed your hand. How are you supposed to tell someone you’re not the romantic type? This sort of thing had never happened before. And you did like Alastor, but not like that! 

“Hey, are you okay?” It was Charlie. How she’d found you, you had no idea, but that didn’t matter. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I just… really think you’d like them. And I thought, since you’re basically part of the staff already, it only made sense to, you know, introduce you?”

Taking a deep breath, you shifted so your back was against the closed closet door. “It… It’s okay. I get it. I just…” Sighing, you let your head fall against the door. “Does Alastor always act like that? B-because if he doesn’t, I have to tell him I’m not… you know… A-and I don’t really want to talk about that.”

“Oh, no, no, no, don’t worry about that!” Charlie let out a little awkward chuckle. “He’s like you, even if he doesn’t know it. He was just being polite.”

Relief filled your chest. “Oh thank Satan.”

[bulletblade]

You know something that I'm surprised no one talks about, at least from what I've seen. Cyclops was tricked into naming his kid after one of his enemies.

Let me break it down:

Nathan Charles Summers, also known as the mutant, Cable, but we won't talk about his alias.

Summers is Scott's last name, no problems there.

Charles named after his mentor and founder of the X-Men, also no problem.

So that leaves Nathan, which was suggested by Jean at least in the show, but as we know, that isn't Jean. It's her clone, Madeline Pyror, who was created by Mr. Sinister a.k.a. Nathaniel Essex.

So yeah, another reason why Mr. Sinister is a piece of sh!t.

[imagineinside]

Eternal Claws (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Chapter 2

Chapter 1: https://www.tumblr.com/imagineinside/760089693618618368/eternal-claws-logan-howlett-x-femreader-chapter?source=share

A/N: First of all, thank you guys for all the love on the first chapter! I was very worried about if people would actually enjoy the story I have planned for you and Logan ;). This next chapter focuses now on the grown reader, who is more mature and confident in herself. Please let me know if you want to see any specific tropes or moments in the future chapters, I am keeping the storyline rather broad as I continue building this world. :D

Summary: At a young age of 16, you find yourself saved from a group of hunters by no other mutant than The Wolverine, who reluctantly becomes your protector during your first heat. As weeks pass and you recover, a complex bond forms between yourself and the powerful mutant who had saved you.

Seven years later, now a confident young woman with refined mutant abilities, you encounter Wolverine again. Despite your growth and newfound strength, old feelings resurface as Wolverine returns from a secretive mission. As you navigate the challenges of your powers and your unspoken connection with him, you must come to terms with your past and the burgeoning feelings that might redefine your future.

Current Applicable Warnings: 18+ (semi-explicit story), canon-typical violence, age gap (like 200+ with a 25 yr old), Alpha!Logan, Omega!Reader, a/o/b universe, sexual tension cause I live for that sh*t, pining, past (complicated) relationships, angst, fluff, more to come.

Word Count: 3,102 the hair flick makes me feral

Seven Years Later

Jumping out of bed, you completed your daily routine: rinsed off in the shower, brushed your teeth, and took your inhibitors before going to meet Cyclops and Jean in the cafeteria. You had met the two other mutants pretty early into your career at the school, and trained with them since then. They were rather taken aback by your mutation at first, with stealing life to provide it to something else and all, but they had grown to see the benefits.

You don’t see the Wolverine very much anymore, though he did teach your History courses up until you turned 18. Once that point hit, after your 18th birthday, you two developed a rather… complex friendship. If anyone had asked you if you were friends, both of you would have denied it. 

But those late night sparring sessions, where Logan would push you to the point of burnout, where he would inevitably carry you back to your room once your legs gave out… those moments told a different story. Or the morning after where he would wake you up with a knock on your door and hand you a stack of pancakes with chocolate chips, just the way you liked it. And you would ask him to stay to keep you company while you read. And even though he would never admit it to you or anyone else, he loved the calming sound of your voice reading to him in the early morning.

And perhaps he was there for entirely selfish reasons.

You lived in that blissful existence until Professor X sent Logan overseas for a confidential mission. He had been gone for nearly three years without a word to you or anyone else. Though who was counting, right?

You had noticed a while back, before he left the school, that Logan liked to hang around Jean a lot… but you didn’t let it bother you at all. 

Not at all.

Not.

At.

All. 

Your dear friend, Jean, had grown breathtaking over the years, her powers right alongside her. Any Alpha would be attracted to such a powerful Omega, it just makes sense. Still, you can’t help but feel a tad sorry for Scott. The Beta has done everything to keep up with Jean and Logan.

Of course, you have grown into yourself as well over time. The past three years especially. Your face lost its childish features, your curves becoming more defined every year. The rigorous training you had put your body through over the last seven years had filled you out nicely, though that was only a positive side effect. You just never wanted to be as weak as you were before. Ever again.

Walking into the cafeteria, you surveyed the crowd of fellow students and teachers alike, but you were surprised to see a second set of shoulders sitting beside your redheaded friend. Clad in a leather jacket with spiked hair. Logan wasn’t supposed to be back for another couple of months, at least according to the Professor.

“Logan,” His name left your mouth in a puff of air. It felt as if you were seeing a ghost after such a long time. Part of you thought he may have just up and vanished when he had left for that mission. Seeing him again felt… surreal.

The Wolverine turned in his chair, brow raised in that way it always was, though it fell when his piercing gaze landed on you from across the room. For a moment that lasted no longer than a heartbeat, you were afraid he would somehow not recognize you. But it was like the Professor had frozen everyone around you for an instant, everything else simply fell away. You could feel that stupid childhood crush come creeping back to the surface. 

He spent your first heat protecting you, so what? That was his job. You were too immature for him then, he probably still thinks about you the same damn way.

“Vitalia,” Logan called out your codename in a way of greeting, that look in his eyes making you feel invincible for a brief moment. Then the powerful mutant was rising from his chair and moving through the busy cafeteria to get to you. His shoulders moved in that same powerful way they always had, with a confidence that made your knees feel weak. When he finally stopped before you, you were toe-to-toe with each other. Jeez you had forgotten how tall this man was. “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again,” he whispered before reaching down and wrapping his large arms around you in a bear hug you had forgotten always felt so good.

You didn’t fight as your eyes fluttered closed and you took a long, deep breath of his pinewood and leather scent. A scent that reminded you of comfort and home. A scent that you haven’t smelled since the day he left.

The Professor had locked Logan’s room upon him leaving the campus. At the time, it felt like just another nail in the coffin to you that the Wolverine was gone. But over time, you just wanted to smell him again, and cursed the fact that you couldn’t walk into his room to see and smell all he had left behind.

It was rare for you two to hug, though not unheard of. Despite your childish hope of having Logan as an–ahem–intimate partner, in your mind hugging was a line you rarely crossed with each other.

For the Wolverine, though, he just needed to make sure you were kept safe. You meant too much to him to let you go. But you didn’t know that… yet.

“Where did they send you?” You gently asked him as you rubbed at his back. 

It was a common occurrence for him to come back from missions, or–hell–even come to your room after a night terror looking for comfort. The first time it had happened, you think you were almost 20 at the time, he had just returned from a failed rescue mission for a young mutant boy. You were just getting ready for bed when a hard knock sounded at your door. Thinking that it was Jean returning your Math textbook, you opened the door, only to find a towering, battered looking Wolverine on the other side.

“Can I come in?” He had asked, his voice dark and hoarse.

You nodded for him to enter, closing the door behind him.

“What’s the matter?” You asked him as you pulled out your desk chair, not sure if it was the right time to take a seat next to him on the bed.

Logan swallowed, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “He didn’t make it.”

“The boy you were sent to find?”

All he could do was nod his head.

“Lo, I am so sorry,” you replied, tears pricking at your eyes. “Whatever happened it wasn’t your fault.”

Logan gritted his teeth together, his forearm flexing as he clenched and unclenched his hand over and over. Though you weren’t afraid of him, you never could be. “The townspeople… Not only was he a mutant but he presented as Omega.” A sob ripped from his throat, a sound you had never heard him produce before. “He never stood a chance.”

“Oh God,” you couldn’t say anything else… do anything else. You didn’t want to know what– “Do you need to stay here? I can sleep on the floor.”

He gave a solemn nod and ran a hand through his mussed hair. “Thank you,” came his response. You gave him a sad smile before rising to gather a blanket and pillow for the floor. Before you could get very far, Logan’s large hand was holding your cheek and his thumb rubbed away a tear streaking down your face. His hazel eyes felt like they were piercing through you, as if they were trying to capture you a million times over. Like he was afraid you would be gone the second he blinked. “I’m so glad that it wasn’t you… It wasn’t you.” He repeated, as if needing to prove it to himself.

You laid awake that night, listening to his heavy breathing as he cradled one of your shirts that he had asked for close to his face. By the time you fell asleep, you woke again to your door being shut closed, the shadow of Logan disappearing down the hallway.

You tried to ignore the fact that after leaving your room at night, he would move down the hall and knock on Jean’s door. You never told him or Jean that you knew what they were doing. It wasn’t worth the heartache for you. You just wanted to be there for a close companion, a friend… of sorts.

“They sent me to Russia,” he grumbled into your shoulder before straightening up and untangling his arms from around you, “I went in to infiltrate an illegal mutant testing program. And to free Professor X’s old friend…” As his voice trailed off, you got the hint he wasn’t in the mood to discuss it further. 

Instead, you gave him a watery smile and, before you could truly think about what you were doing, you rose onto your toes and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Welcome back, old man,” you whispered, only pausing enough to watch his nose twitch and his pupils expand to the rim, an animalistic look hidden in his eyes. You quickly turned away to try to hide the fact that your cheeks were quickly turning a shade of red.

But he caught it, he always did. And he would keep that look of yours ingrained in his mind, somewhere deep inside for him to peek at when he needed it the most.

You cleared your throat and strode towards the table, “It must be nice to catch up with everyone.”

“I came here to find you first,” his response had your steps faltering and mind reeling. You would have thought he wanted to see Jean or Professor X first, not… you.

You had to come to a complete stop when you saw the plate that was waiting for you at your normal eating spot. A stack of… warm chocolate chip pancakes.

You never stood a chance against the current of waterworks that came pouring out of you. Turning and sobbing into Logan’s chest, your heart so full of joy and relief that he was here.

* * *

“God I wish you never came back,” you spat at Logan from across the ring, spitting blood from your mouth onto the gray floor. The tooth he had knocked free hurt like a bitch as it regrew into place.

Over the years, especially these last three, you’ve been growing more and more with your mutant abilities. And apparently, with the ability to control life and all that, you can heal yourself at speeds that rival the Wolverine.

“Since Professor X told me you can heal now, I don’t have to hold back.” Logan laughed as he lunged forward, this time with two claws out on either fist. You made a mistake to block your upper body as he jammed both sharp ass knives into your legs, making you yell out in pain.

You solidified your place on the ground behind swinging you right arm upwards, hitting him in the jaw hard enough to knock him backwards and to get those damn, stupid fucking adamantium cat claws out of you. 

“Hey, sweetheart, you’re talking out loud again.” Logan called as he rose from the ground, both his claws retracting into his arms.

“Good, I hope you know how much I hate those things.” You seethed back at him as you walked from the ring to grab a drink of water. “Those fuckers have pierced holes in my mattress and sheets far too many times.”

Logan’s hearty laugh followed you to the bench, making it impossible to hide your own smile spreading across your face. “Hey, at least you’re strong enough to walk out of here on your own two feet now.”

Your smile falls faster than it started. “Yeah,” you sighed, “at least that.”

“You have gotten a lot stronger since the last time I was here.” Logan said, his voice coming from close behind you. For a brief moment, you thought you felt the ghost of a touch around your waist, but when you turned around there was nothing there. “Listen, um…” he let out a harsh laugh, almost like a scoff,  “I’m not very good at this kind of stuff which you know, but… I am sorry I left for so long.”

Maybe two years ago you would have relished those words. An apology coming from the big, angry Wolverine. But now, it just made you feel like a child. It made you feel like you were just a kid he felt like he was in charge of still. “I can take care of myself, Logan.”

“I know that,” he rushed to say, “I didn’t mean to imply you–”

“Scott, Jean and I are being sent on a mission.” You let the words tumble out of your mouth into the space between you. It felt like acid pouring out of you, leaving steaming piles on the floor that you could no longer cross.

“What?” Logan asked, shaking his head.

“Professor X wants us to go on our first mission.”

“No, I heard that. It’s just… you’re too young still.” Logan growled, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “I’m going to talk to the Profess–”

“Please, don’t!” You begged as you grabbed onto his arm when he turned to leave. Thankfully, it stopped him in his tracks. You looked down at where your hand was clasped around his wrist and released with a hiss, as if the touch had burned you. “I need this, Logan. Jean and Scott do too. I mean, it’s not their first mission but they need more experience out there.”

“When’s your next heat due?”

You felt yourself bristle at him, a growl crawling up your throat, “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“There’s no way I’m letting you go out there on a mission if your heat is coming soon.” He growled and snapped his teeth at you. The look in his eyes made you recoil back into yourself, you hated when your secondary gender bowed to his. You weren’t any less powerful than him, so why did you feel like you had to listen to him? You didn’t even feel this way with the Professor.

“You don’t get to decide that for me!” You yelled back, despite your Omega reeling back from yelling at an Alpha. God, you hated those words. “You let Jean go out there even though she’s an Omega.” You hated throwing your friend's name out there just to prove a point.

Logan scoffed and tossed his head back, “That’s completely different, Vitalia.”

“What, because you’re just sleeping with her?”

A deadly silence fell over the otherwise empty training room.

Logan breathed heavily and took a step towards you, making your knees bend against the bench behind you and you fell to the wooden surface. “You don’t know shit about that,” he said, his voice eerily calm.

“And you don’t know shit about what I’m capable of.” You said, your voice losing its vigor as tears pricked your eyes. “You were gone for three years, Logan. Do you have any idea how much I needed you?”

“I know,” he replied, his voice retreating back to its calm, bassy tone.

“But I’m not the same little girl anymore, alright?” You begged to be recognized, your voice becoming watery with the tears in your eyes. “I need this mission.”

You watched Logan’s Adam's apple bob in his throat as he stepped back from you. “I know.” He reached forward and offered a hand to help pull you up. Hesitantly, you laced your hands together and tugged upwards, rising from the seat. “Just make sure to be safe. And come back to m–to us.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved at his shoulder in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I will, dad.”

“Hey,” he snapped at you as a smile played on his lips, “we talked about that.”

“I know, I know… it reminds you how old you are, old man.”

“Wow, you’re really asking for it aren’t you?”

You giggled to yourself and swayed your hips as you walked towards the exit (completely missing the way Logan watched every sway of your hips like his life depended on it). “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said with a wink.

A quick growl behind you was the only warning you received before you were tackled to the ground, an assault of tickles roaming across your ribs and under your armpits. Your laughter was contagious as it bounced around the room, Logan’s own baritone laughter mixing with yours. He hadn’t felt joy like this in so long. “I yield, I yield!” You yelled out.

His fingers stopped roaming as your laughter died out, and you realized how compromising of a position you were in during your attempt to escape. Logan was nestled between your legs, his torso keeping you spread open beneath him. And it just became inappropriate for your friend to have his shirt off, a heat forming in the bottom of your stomach as your eyes grazed along his happy trail that disappeared beneath his gray sweatpants. The need to peel down the band on his pants to see what that trail led to was overwhelming. You watched his pecs twitch as he leaned backwards, his large hands coming to rest on your hips. You wished he would reach around you and pull you closer to him, let you grind against him until you found a release that would have you screaming his name…

Fuck, you forgot he can sense your arousal and heartbeat.

You watched his pupils dilate for the second time that day, his eyes darkening as his grip tightened on your hips…

Clearing your throat you pushed away from him, and he let you go with little resistance as you slipped through his hands. “I’m gonna take a shower and meet Jean and Scott to go over mission details.” You weren’t sure why you felt the need to tell him that, but watching as he sat there looking wrecked because of you made your heart do something very strange.

Giving him one quick nod, you walked out of the room, running away from the man who had the power to destroy your heart.

Taglist (omg I can't believe I have one of these, love y'all): @kingdomhate , @sadslasher13 , @bontensbabygirl , @ferkillia , @coocoocachoogotscrewed , @craftycaptain.

[chrisisvbun]

guilty as sin. logan howlett x bunny!femreader

synopsis: after realizing that Jean wasn't really the best option, Logan decides it's time for him to forget about dating and shit and try to put his libido on being an xmen (tho he'll never confess it). That until, in a mission, they find the most dangerous mutant... a bunny mutant.

cw: age gap (logan is 35-40, reader is 25-30); a bit of chasing game; dom!Logan; mention of prostitution, killing, poison, seizures, non-con and neglection; brat!reader but also really submissive; reader goes by she/her, afab terms used top; animalistic stuff like heats, and scents and shit; logan's wolf side is exaggerated; reader is much smaller than Logan; albin!reader and her appearence its described; smut, creampie, praise kink, really animalistic, slight fingering, unprotected p in v. red coded character bcs logan has a type, obviously. A bit of ooc!Logan sorry.

words: 4.3k

second.

☆☆☆

"Show yourself!" Scott's shout echoed in the big house.

"Sure, now they're gonna show themselves, of course." Logan teased, which only earned him a dirty look from Cyclops. "Relax, glasses, I'm sure t-"

Whatever tease was about to come out from Logan's lips was interrupted by the sound of wood cracking. Scott, Jean, Ororo and him looked around, but the first three moved their eyes to Logan, who was the one with sharp audition.

The mission requires the four best mutants of Xavier. The mutant they were chasing was, apparently, the most dangerous mutant around at that time, nobody knew how they looked like, because they were really quiet when killing with some type of poison. The four heroes were expecting any type of lizard or reptile, or a mutant that had poison abilities, so they tried to be as cautious as possible.

Logan looked at began sniffing around, too. I have smelled prey. It was a scent that he had smelled back when he was in the mountains, but never again until that second. He frowned, confused, and wrinkled his nose more like that would help distinguish the source.

"What is it—" Scott asked.

"Sh."

"What is it, Logan?" Jean asked.

Logan sniffed a bit more before answering. "Meat."

"Huh?" Storm said. "Meat?"

Another creek.

Everyone turned their head to try finding the source of the sound. Logan seemed to find it and began approaching slowly to the pile of wood in the corner of the house.

"You can come out."

No answer.

"Come out." He ordered. But still no answer.

It is public knowledge that Logan was not a man of much patience, he snaps quickly, just like now. He dumped the pile of wood away with his claws, to expose the creature behind it.

Everything they expected: a lizard, a reptile, a poison mutant, everything evaporated in the mere thought when Logan saw those long, white, fluffy, bunny ears falling on the sides of your pale face.

Logan frowned, confused. "This is the most dangerous mutant?" He chuckled as he retracted his claws.

You, a bunny mutant, were shaking in tour place, wrapped around yourself while you looked at Logan with eyes bright with fear.

Yeah, a bunny mutant, that's why he smelled meat, why he smelled prey.

"Don't worry, bub. 'not gonna hurt you." He said, looking at you up and down. He reached his forearm for you to grab like he was to scared to put his hands on you in case he would break you. You sniffed at his arm a bit, your flat pink nose moving up and down quickly as you took in his scent.

Shyly, you put your small pale hands on his big forearm and lifted yourself.

Logan didn't miss a chance to check your appearance. You had pale skin, a pinkish hue in your elbows, shoulders, nose, and cheeks, your eyes were big and red, bright as two rubies, your hands were small, you were small in general, and your body was so tiny in comparison to his. So delicate, like porcelain. Like it's been mentioned before, you had a flat, pink nose that wrinkled whenever you began sniffing something, and your pale face was between two long, fluffy, white bunny ears. Logan also noticed how your arms, legs, neck, face, and whole body were covered in a white, soft fur. When you turned around to see the rest of the team, Logan saw your round, fluffy, white bunny tail lifting the back of your short dress.

Wait, a short, slik dress? In a house like this?

Logan instantly frowned, glancing at his team with you still gripping at his forearm.

"Logan, careful." Scott stood in front of Jean, trying to protect her.

"You want to protect her from this?" Logan chuckled, pointing at you. "Sure thing, bub."

"Charles said we were going to meet the most dangerous mutant around..." Jean said.

"I'm sorry, but that doesn't look that dangerous..." Storm crossed her arms, looking at you, smiling at the sight of your white curly hair falling messigly through your shy, scared eyes.

"Why would they say she is dangerous when she looks like this?" Scott put his hands in his waist.

"I don't know, but they seem harmless to me too" Jean peeked through Scott's figure.

"More like a scared little creature rather than a dangerous mutant, yeah" Storm kneeled a bit.

While they talked, Logan was looking at your tail. Yeah, he was almost ignoring your round, fat ass, just looking at your puffy tail. Out of instinct, he moved his hand to touch it, grabbing it in his hand and squeezing a bit, gently.

"Soft..." He mumbled.

Yeah. He better have enjoyed it, because in the second you felt a strange hand from someone who smelled like a predator grabbing your tail from behind, you sank your nails in his chest, the red poison getting in his system for long enough to make Logan faint , but not enough to kill him, just because Scott managed to shoot some tranquilizer in your neck.

(...)

Logan woke up in the nurse bed of the mansion. Because it was a familiar situation, he just stood up, plugged the wires off and walked out, grabbing his white top that was on the chair.

As soon as he had his shirt on, his searched for the team until he found them at Charles office, where he barged in.

"What a pleasant entrance" Scott said in a mumbled, which made Logan roll his eyes.

"What the hell happened and where the fuck is that bunny bitch?" Logan frowned.

"Relax, Logan, we will explain everything" Charles said.

The explanation had a bit of a lore. You were victims of a group of men that experimented with babies to turn them into mutants. But these weren't any men, and they didn't want any mutants. We are talking about pimps indeed, and they decided, after investigating the porn industry for a long time, to create women that had everything a nasty, kinky man would want, they created a mutant for every fetish a man could imagine. For example, a bunny woman. Of course, they also took their time to perfect this and made them age slower, so even though you were close to thirty, you hardly looked twenty. And obviously, they didn't do it for the hell of it, clients paid big amounts of money to have a scent of you. Men took their time to praise you before taking you over and over again. You were desired and you hated it.

This went through since you were fifteen, of course in this type of industry, age was the last thing they cared about. And they had you in the worst conditions ever, not just you, because it wasn't just you. There were too many women in those conditions, in that situation. To say a number, you once counted fifty in one room, and there were more than forty rooms, you do the math. all stacked, one over the other in not enough beds, crying, suffering, your bodies bruised, dirty, abused.

Logan couldn't help but feel bad. Bad is an understatement. Awful. Because how such a delicate, pure thing like you could have gone through that? He was furious.

The end of the story is that the tools those men used to turn you into a mutant had... imperfections, which caused your defensive ability. You had a chemical that they've used on the creation of your mutation running through your blood and you were able to expulse it through your fingertips, so when you sank your nails into someone's flesh, the poison went through your nails to get to that person's system, causing a seizure that led them to death, of course.

Thanks to Logan's healing abilities, that didn't happen, but Logan noticed how you were determined to do it, to kill him, how scared you were of, not him, but every single man that laid his hands on you without your consent.

The reason why you were in that silk, dark green dress, that covered your body till half way of your thigh, was that that was the last 'meeting' you had with a man. You had been convocated to get to that cabin with another woman, before that happened, the pimps were already suspecting that you were the one that was killing all of their clients, and you suspected that you weren't gonna go home after that 'meeting' in the cabin with a regular.

Thinking about it, you didn't mind the sex. The clients were usually handsome men, and because you were 'the bunny girl' they've always praised you over and over again, you were the pretty bunny, you were a delicate feather, they didn't want to break you, even the ones that had a corruption kink. You were the premium meat, that's what they used to call you when selling you, you were available for the best and only the best clients. You were the luckiest, and the one that worked harder, because you would've gotten touched and fucked at least two times a day. The thing that made you sick was the context, you knew that you would love to fuck those men if you would've done it willingly, but the mere thought of someone paying to have the freedom to use you made you sick. Why? You didn't understand, they were handsome men, and they could've found a pretty woman like you in a bar if they wanted. But no, why? Because they wanted the bunny. The fat prize.

But when the pimps began suspecting, the type of men that you were given to began to be worse, not because they were ugly, but because they were less kind. This last client was one of those, and for your luck, this girl that came with you was one of your closest friends, a girl that was also a hybrid, an orange cat hybrid. And the mess started.

The second the client began to get violent, you sank your claws into his shoulders and watched him faint above you. In that second, the security of the pimps walked in and tried to get rid of you, making a mess in the house till you managed to get rid of all. You were punched and bruised, fortunately, no open wounds, but you were exhausted. Your friend got rid of the bodies and said they were going to find help, but never came back. You thought she got caught, and that's why she never came back, but a part of you feared that maybe she just ran away and left you there.

Anyway, that's how you ended up there, in that dress, covered in that mess of a house. Logan couldn't believe what he was hearing, the team always thought they could avoid all of the mutants' pain, but they didn't know half of them to even start thinking about saving them.

"She is going to stay, of course. Not only for her safety but also because we have to get as much information as we can of this sick business" Charles explained.

And that's what happened. Logan stepped in the kitchen where you were sitting peacefully, with a bowl of cereal, binging at it like it was your last meal. The second your gazes connected, you couldn't help to get embarrassed and put the bowl down, sitting straight as looking at him. "Hi." You mumbled shyly.

"Hi there, bun." He smiled. Not just you but everyone was surprised that he wasn't mad at you.

"I'm sorry... that I tried killing you... you scared me" You said, playing with your spoon.

Logan chuckled. "That's okay, bunny, it's in the past." He leaned on the counter, you had a grey jumper with the school logo, and grey sweatpants and you were barefoot, your toes didn't even reach the floor. "That jumper suites you."

"You think I'm a prey." You talked on top of him. A silence built between you two, and you broke it. "You are a wolf, aren't you?"

"Yes and no, sweetheart." He sighed. "You do smell like a good piece of meat, tho"

You frowned a bit. "A piece of meat?"

Logan pressed his lips in a line. "Yeah, that didn't sound pretty well, did it?"

"Surely didn't" You put your plate on the sink next to him, and he took his time to see your tail peeking between your jumper and your sweatpants.

"It was soft, you know?" He cleared his throat.

"I live with it 24/7" You said, putting your clean plate in the dryer before looking at him. "Of course I know it's soft."

Logan chuckled. "Careful with your tone, rabbit".

You raised an eyebrow, not really enjoying the tease. "Dumb wolf." You muttered before walking to your room.

You didn't like him, yeah. But he? Oh, he craved you.

(...)

Slowly, you began to adapt to your new life. It was hard, you went through a life in which you were neglected and abused, to one where you had anything you could ask for.

Months came by, and Xavier asked you to coordinate the art club, which you gladly did since you loved art.

You hung out a lot with Ororo, Kurt, surprisingly Logan (more like joking, teasing and mocking you until you git comfortable enough to through them back at him), and the kids, you didn't avoid the rest, but you were pretty shy, so you didn't approach them.

But of course, you couldn't ignore the times were Logan stood in the doorframe of your classroom and watched you teach the kids, your apron covered in paint as you tried to help the teens and the little ones to paint on their canvases. You also couldn't ignore the way he smiled at you, always saying that he is just checking that Rouge is having a good time.

You also noticed how mad he would get whenever you spoke to Kurt in the library, how would you look up at him, accommodating your white hair behind your ear as you smiled. He could get so pissed with just that, so furious because he wanted those smiles, he wanted to see your skin wrinkle around your red eyes standing in front of you, looking at you, having you looking at him.

Having you.

Gosh, what was wrong with him?

It was something primal that got him whenever he saw your white body hair, or whenever he saw you in the living your, cutting your dresses so you could accommodate your pompom tail, or whenever you watched television with Ororo in the TV room, surrounded by the kids, wearing some cozy pajamas.

He didn't put a single finger on you, tho. He has never touched that hairy skin of your, tho he craved it.

He couldn't understand if he sexually wanted you or if he was just so desperate for your attention. Maybe both. Maybe none... no, definitely both, yeah.

He could dream about you for a week, about having you in his arms, sometimes not doing anything, just running his hands through your fur up and down slowly, petting you, showing you how much of him you had. Other nights, he was just fantazising about parting your wet cunt in half with his cock.

He is not guilty, he thinks, it's normal. Although, he was indeed thinking like a teen.

One of sleepover nights, he was drinking a coke with Bobby in the kitchen, hearing you laugh and chat with Ororo and the rest of the kids until he just heard your voice and Rouge's. Both boys stood up and peeked through the living room, seeing all the kids and Ororo sleeping, one girl had her head in your lap as you caressed her ginger hair softly. When both of you heard them approach, you turn to them and giggled.

"What's so funny?" Bobby asked Rouge.

"Nothing, nothing" she giggled, looking at the white-haired one.

"Wolf, help me get the kids to bed" you said, passing right by him with a girl in your hands.

Logan sighed, pressing his tongue in the inside of his bottom lip. "Yes, ma'am" he said, and grabbed one kid in his arms.

"Bobby, Marie, you too. Go to sleep, come on." You said, both kids sighed and nodded.

When everyone was all tucked in at their rooms (including Ororo) you began climbing upstairs.

"Bunny."

You flipped around, looking at him with those big eyes he loved so bad.

"Hm..."

Some way, you were sitting on the counter, him in a chair of the kitchen table, both drinking from your cola bottles silently. He couldn't take his eyes from you, you are wearing a red silk pajama, thin straps held your breasts from peeking out from that thin fabric, and the scent of your exposed skin was driving him mad. He was about to get feral, that a sure thing. And seeing your white-haired thighs brushing against each other as you bounced your lega in the counter wasn't helping him either.

"So..." He started, trying to distract himself. "You adapted pretty well" he took a sip.

"Uh-hum." You said, playing with the straw of your bottle. "Ororo and Kurt helped a lot."

Logan grumbled at the mention of the German. "Yeah, Kurt..."

"Yeah, Kurt." You repeated with a giggle at his disgusted tone. "What's the matter with him?"

"Nothing, nothing, he is just a weirdo".

"We are all weirdos here, Logan" You laughed, taking a sip.

"He is just a guy with weird eyes and fur, no big deal." He rolled his eyes.

You raised your eyebrows. "What am I then?" You crossed your legs.

Logan looked at you, the white fur in your bare legs and your red big eyes, and he chuckled.

"You don't want me to answer that, bunny." he drank the whole bottle.

"No, please, illuminate me, wolf." You crossed your arms too. "Because last time I checked I also have a strange eye color and fur all over. What am I?" You got off the counter, still crossing your arms as you looked at him cleaning the glass bottle.

He put it on the counter with a dry noise, looking down at you with a small smirk.

"You are a beautiful, small, vulnerable, delicious bunny with gorgeous ruby eyes and fucking cutest fur i've ever seen" He smiled as biting his lip, looking down at you, taking long steps to approach to you, as you stepped back. "You happy?"

"What makes you think I'm delicious?" You asked, stepping into the wall.

Logan chuckled dryly again. "Out of all the things I said, you kept that?" He laughed. "Damn rabbit, you know well that I can smell how sweet you are."

"I don't." You stepped firm, crossing your arms, looking at him. You tried to stay firm but as you could smell him, he obviously could scent your arousal. He was laughing at you.

He sighed exaggerating, looking at you up and down. "You smell really good, bunny, and you are so tiny too, you know how much I'm restraining myself to not scoop you up?" He kept teasing you, loving how, with every word, you were squeezing harder against nothing.

He got closer, one hand on the wall and the other moving up your thigh, not touching you. You looked confused and he looked up at you, pausing everything.

"May I?" He asked, your felt your breath hitch in your throat as you nodded, you could've came right there. God, he was doing the bare minimum and he was so hot while that.

"Yeah..." You answered in a nod.

His hand pressed against your thigh, his fingertips squeezed around the white hair of your leg, he smiled at the feeling. "So soft, such a soft flesh, bunny. I could devour you."

God, please do. You didn't know why or when Logan became so hot, maybe all the teasing, all the mocking, and all the jokes were a way for you guys to mate. You don't really care now, your throbbing pussy either. You don't remember if you got this wet when he asked to touch you, when he called you delicious, when he asked you to have a drink with him in the kitchen or when he peeked through the living room wearing that tight white top that showed his huge tanned shoulders so perfectly. Definitely the last one, yeah.

His hand began to climb up, your hands gripped his shoulders as your breath got heavier. His touch was gentle and soft, like you were made out of porcelain. His hands touched your center, that point were your lips touched against each other again in your juicy pussy, he chuckled in a mocking tongue. "What got you so wet, bub? I didn't even started" He said in your mouth, laughing on top of your lips.

Your body began to warm up, your whole body began to get so hot and sweaty as his fingers bullied your clothed entrance. "That's it, that's a good bunny. 'M getting you all ready for me, I don't need you wet for this, I need you dripping" He was teasing you so bad, mocking your reactions at his fingers in your most sensitive part. When you frowned, he did the same, when you opened your mouth to moan, he would imitate you too. "Such a pretty little thing, getting all wet for your mate."

"Logan, please..."

"Please what, rabbit?" He pushed the clothes covering your heat.

"Please! I need..." You tried to talk, but moaned loudly.

"You need what, bunny? Use that pretty mouth of yours." He used his free hand to squeeze your cheeks until your mouth was opened. "Gosh, one day I'm gonna fill that mouth of yours. I want this beautiful lips around some good stuff, but not now, sweetheart, I need to show you what you are here for, bun'".

(...)

Your face was pressed on the cold counter of the kitchen, your mouth drooled your saliva as you tried to speak, only being able to babble some incoherent words. Your saliva was mixing with your pleasure and pain tears, because Logan was gripping your bunny ears tight from behind as he thrusts against your wet, tight pussy. His free hand us pressing your middle back, making you arch your spine, giving him the best angle ever as you cried and moaned.

His tip was hitting your cervix perfectly, your velvety insides were squeezing him tight, almost sucking him in. He groaned every time he thrusted his hips against your ass, the kitchen getting filled with the wet noises of his balls against your skin. He looked down to the spot where his cock disappeared inside of you, the ring of precum mixed with your slick in his base.

Your toes hurt as you were on your tiptoes and your nails scratched the marble of the counter in desperation as he quicked his pace.

"Gosh, bunny, so freaking tight..." He growled under his breath. Even though you had been fucked a lot, you were still so tight inside, and he was going nuts about it.

He moved the hand that he had in your back to your low stomach, caressing your womb and almost moaning at the feeling of his tip pressing against it.

"Taking me so freaking well, gosh." He bit his lip and closed his eyes as he kept fucking you.

You were so cock drunk from him, you had a very sexual life but no cock had opened you so well like Logan's did. Not only it was huge, but also it was so warm that almost felt like a cuddle for your insides. From now on, you are sure that you'll get wet with just the thought of his warm, fat cock inside of you.

"Please..." you cried and drooled, Logan chuckled, his eyes still closed.

"Please what, rabbit?" He teased.

You moved your hips in circles and he pulled your ears more, making you lift your head from the counter.

"Words." He ordered.

" 'm gonna come..." You managed to say, hissing in a beautiful pain. "M-may I?"

So fucking polite, he thought.

"I couldn't deny you that, no when you asked so nicely, bun'" He smiled widely and bit his lip, starting to fuck you almost brutally. "Come on my cock, be a good bunny."

You screamed at his new pace, your hands gripping the edge of the counter, crying pathetically when his cock began hitting your sweet point.

He was looking for your pleasure desperately, he wanted you to feel so good, so drunk in him. And god he was being successful, you had never been so well fucked, he was taking great care of you.

It didn't take you much longer to come in his cock, your body shivering as saliva dripped on the counter with your tears, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you tensed your body and your pussy began dripping your release.

You didn't notice you were about to wall in the ground until Logan hugged your waist and flush you against him completely, filling you with his seed, you swear you heard him moan in your ear as he did, even though he is sure he doesn't moan.

He leaned against the table for a second, still hugging you and panting heavily. His hand caressed your belly with lazy patterns.

"Too rough?" He asked. You denied.

"Just perfect." You answered breathlessly, he huffed a smile. "Thanks."

"Anytime, bunny."

"I have a name, you know?" You chucked a bit.

"Bunny suits you better." He kissed your shoulder. "Let's get you cleaned up so you can rest that pretty ass for yours." You laughed as he lifted you, grabbing your princess style to walk you to your room.

[standfucker]

Reacting to Your SH Scars - Monster Trio, Law, Kid, Killer

CW for SH, obviously. GN reader in all except Sanji’s somewhat implies a fem reader. Reader is short but it only comes up in Zoro's and Kid's sections. No established relationship, but implied feelings between everyone and the reader.

Ao3 link

Luffy

You had to wait forever for the others to finish dressing and leave the shared quarters so you could change as well, not wanting them to see your scars. You always had some excuse as to why you lagged behind, and they didn’t question it.

Your captain was less patient, however.

"Y/n! You done yet? Come on, let's go!" You hear him shout from outside the door.  You’re about to reply when the rubber man bursts into the room without warning.

You’re decent enough, having already donned shorts and a tank top, but you haven’t pulled your long sleeve shirt on yet, your scarred and cut arms plainly visible. You go rigid as his gaze falls to them.

Luffy doesn’t say anything, and you hastily pull on your shirt, but it’s too late.

“Sorry… I’m ready,” you mumble awkwardly.

Luffy still doesn’t speak. You don’t think he realizes what it is, that he doesn’t understand what he saw. That he’s naive.

So it takes you by surprise when he says softly, “Ace used to do that.”

“Ah…” You fidget with your hands, unsure of how to respond.

“But he got better.” Luffy stretches an arm across the room to wrap around your shoulders and pulls you off your feet, making you yelp as he reels you into a side hug. “You will, too. I know it.”

You weren’t going to say anything. You’re generally good at keeping your thoughts to yourself. But he sounds so certain, and you can’t help it, bitter pessimism flaring up like it always does. This time, it slips out. “What makes you so sure?”

Luffy blinks at you, entirely unphased. “I believe in you!” He says, and smiles like the sun, that bright and shining grin he always has that shows his genuine care and delight.

It catches you off guard. So much so that even though it’s been years since you’ve cried, you have to bite your tongue right then to keep yourself from tearing up. You want to believe him so badly.

“I… I see,” you manage to say. “Thanks, Captain.”

Luffy turns to walk out the room, pulling you along by the hand. He pauses before either of you exit, though, turning to face you again.

“Luffy?” You question, but a second later he’s leaped onto you, wrapping his stretched-out body around you multiple times, in a total, enveloping hug that only he can give.

He giggles, and despite everything, despite all the years of suffering and bad thoughts and hurting for no good reason, you find yourself laughing too.

Sticking around is worth it, you think, if you get to be with him and the crew.

Zoro

You and Zoro insult each other. Not in the way that he argues with Sanji–your dynamic is all teasing, neither of you ever serious in your ribbing.

“Keep up, Cyclops,” you taunt after you dispatch an enemy before he does. “I thought you trained with Mihawk?”

“How about you worry less about my speed, and more about what the adults are keeping on top of the fridge, Pipsqueak,” he shoots back with a grin.

And so it goes, until the time you’re hanging out with him on the ship. He’s spilled some of his sake, and the match you used to light your cigarette drops right into it, igniting the small puddle. You pull off your jacket in a panic and quickly smother the fire.

Zoro finally understands why you’ve never taken off your jacket in front of anyone, eyeing the scars and cuts that run up both arms.

He doesn’t comment on it. But from then on, he stops trading friendly insults, no longer responding when you call him stupid names or make fun of him for getting lost.

It messes with you, it makes you feel worse. You want him to treat you like he used to, desperately missing the banter.

You don’t know how to bring it up. You certainly won’t do it when the others are around. But finally you can’t stand it anymore, and you approach him one day when he’s exercising, the two of you alone on the bow of the ship.

“Why?” You ask, and he tilts his head at you in question. “You don’t talk back to me anymore. Ever since you saw me without my jacket. Why, Zoro?”

Zoro doesn’t stop his reps, glancing at you while he curls a massive weight. “Does it matter?”

“Yes!” You pause and lower your voice. “It matters to me. I feel like… I mean…” It’s so hard to be candid in front of him when he’s so stoic. You suck in a nervous breath. “Are we not friends anymore?”

Zoro’s eyes widen. “Of course we are.”

“Then what is it?” You try to keep from sounding as upset as you feel, but maybe you don’t do a very good job, because Zoro stops and sets down the weight to give you his full attention.

He looks at you carefully, as if deciding how to phrase his thoughts. He’s not usually one to think before he speaks, but he does so this time.

“It’s not because I don’t like you,” he starts, scratching the back of his head. “It’s just… I can’t do it. I keep thinking, ‘what if I’m the cause one time?’ What if you do it because of me?”

“Oh,” you say quietly, then speak up, “oh, no. No! Zoro. It could never be you. Never.”

He doesn’t look convinced, so you keep going.

“You could never hurt me like that,” you admit sheepishly. “Not you. I’m only ever happy when we’re hanging out.”

“Not happy enough,” he mutters, his gaze settling onto your arm–first the left, then the right, remembering what he saw.

The words pierce you like one of his swords, and you feel yourself choke on nothing. “No,” you agree. “I guess not.

Zoro picks up a towel to wipe the sweat from his face before he approaches you. “Y/n. Is there anything I can do?”

You gape at him, not expecting the words, and certainly not expecting him to rest a hand on your shoulder.

“Anything at all,” he repeats. “I don’t want you feeling like that.”

You look down. You’ve been ill for so long, you don’t know if you’ll ever stop feeling that way. But… “Treat me like you used to,” you request. “Like I’m not fragile. I need to be treated like a normal person. I need to feel normal.”

Because if someone treated you like you were as sick as you really were, you think you’d throw yourself overboard. You’re not ready to confront that reality. Maybe you never will be. ‘I’m fine’ was your mantra, even when you were not. Especially when you were not.

Zoro nods. “I’ll try,” he says. “But can’t you talk to someone? I mean, no one else knows, right?”

“No one else knows,” you confirm. “And… Well, would you talk to anyone? Have you ever brought up anything that personal to anyone else?”

Zoro opens his mouth to reply, but when he says nothing, you know you got him.

“See?” You press. “It’s not that simple.”

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue, lowering his hand from your shoulder. “Shit. Alright, I get it. Damn it…”

“No need to curse about it. It’s not that big a deal.”

Zoro looks at you so sharply you flinch. “Yes it is? Are you crazy?”

You grimace. “I mean, probably? Given the whole, uh,” you raise your arms, “you know.”

He doesn’t laugh, but you weren’t expecting him to. You weren’t really joking, anyway.

“Sorry,” you say, “I’m sorry. I never meant for you to see it. I don’t want you to worry.”

Zoro looks at you again, and you can’t figure out his expression. “...I’m glad I saw,” he says after a moment.

“Uh,” you reply dumbly, caught off guard, “you are?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t elaborate.

You want to ask why, but you don’t, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Surprisingly, it’s Zoro who breaks the silence first.

“You’re really happy when we hang out?” He asks, face still frustratingly neutral.

“Well, yeah. You’re my favorite,” you say without thinking, then stop and cover your face in embarrassment once your brain catches up. “Fuck.”

Zoro’s eyes widen, and then a smirk stretches across his face. “No need to curse about it.”

Your cheeks get hot, but you’re also flooded with relief, because he’s teasing you again. Maybe everything will be okay after all.

“Shut up,” you grumble. “Forget I said anything.”

Zoro reaches out and ruffles your hair, making you squawk and attempt to smack his arm away. He’s far too strong for you to move him, though.

“I’m going to finish training, and then I’ll come hang with you,” he says. “Though you can wait here if you want.”

You decide to join Zoro, exercising alongside him (with normal sized weights, thank you very much.) He clears his throat once you’ve worked up a sweat.

“You can take off your jacket, you know,” he says. “If you want. I’ve already seen your arms, so…”

You’re not really sure how comfortable you are with that, but it’s hot enough out that you relent, shrugging off your jacket. To his credit, Zoro doesn’t stare.

You thought it would be more awkward, but to your surprise, having your scars exposed without any judgment makes you feel normal. It’s almost euphoric. You smile to yourself, putting a little more effort into your workout.

The two of you drink together afterward, falling back into your routine of affectionate taunting. It’s like nothing has changed, or so you thought.

By the end of the following week, you realize telling Zoro that you felt better with him around might have been a mistake, because he almost never leaves you alone anymore. When the others are around, he doesn’t do anything differently. But he has a sixth sense for when you’re by yourself, appearing by your side right when you seem to need it. He even shows up when you wake up in the middle of the night and go to sit at the bow of the boat. It’s eerie.

You tell him he doesn’t have to do that, and he just shrugs it off. “I like being around you, so it’s fine,” he says casually, like the words don’t spear you through the heart.

The idiot. But you can’t really complain.

Sanji

It took you a while to get used to how touchy Sanji is. Hugs, pats on the shoulder, touches to your arm or side, even holding your hand sometimes–he never holds back.

You’re a bit touch-starved, so you don’t mind. So long as it never becomes inappropriate, you’re alright with it.

Sanji lets you help in the kitchen sometimes. He was reluctant at first, but you told him you needed something to do, needed to keep your hands busy. You didn’t tell him why. But he conceded, giving you simple tasks to complete.

Your sleeve gets dirty while you’re cutting fruit one evening. Sanji glances at it, damp with pineapple juice, and steps over to you, tutting.

“I know you don’t like taking off your jacket, but why don’t you at least roll up your sleeves?” He asks, and before you can respond, he’s reaching for your arm and pulling back the sleeve himself.

The moment he sees the cuts, he yanks his hand away like he’s been burned. Your freeze, throat going dry, unable to do anything but stare at him in shock.

He’s staring back. The two of you just stare at each other for a dumb minute. Fear crawls through your veins and twists up your heart. No one in the crew knew about your issue until then, and you have no idea what he’ll think of you. The anxiety makes you want to vomit. You have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Um,” you say, and it comes out much higher pitched than it’s supposed to.

“Y/n,” Sanji says quietly. “Who did that to you?”

You don’t know why he’s asking, because you think the answer is obvious. Those are clearly not battle scars. You’re pretty sure he knows, too. Maybe it’s just hard for him to believe–you do an excellent job masking, after all. Sharing that kind of thing got you in trouble in the past, so you only ever appear happy in front of other people, laughing and cracking jokes like you’re not crumbling inside. To any outsider, you’d seem like the most easygoing crewmate in the Straw Hats.

You set down the knife. “Uh… I did?”

His expression slowly morphs from shock into sadness, a frown etched into his features.

“Hey, no,” you say quickly, “don’t–don’t look at me like that. It’s okay, really.”

“But–” he starts to say, pausing when he sees the slight tremble in your form. You can’t help it–past experience tells you you’re about to get yelled at.

“I’m okay,” you say, as much to yourself as to him. “Everything is fine. So don’t…”

Sanji looks at you helplessly. “But… Why?”

You’re glad he’s not yelling at you, but somehow, that look is almost worse. You don’t want to be screamed at again, but you also don’t want him to feel bad for you, either. You do enough of that on your own.

“I don’t really have a good answer for that,” you swallow.

“Nothing at all?” He practically whispers.

You get it. Not having an explanation for something so drastic is probably stressful for him. You shrug, turning back to the pineapple you were slicing to finish what you started, unable to both bare your truth and look at him at the same time.

“Sometimes I do it because I need to hurt on the outside as much as I’m hurting on the inside,” you confess. “Sometimes I do it because I’m so numb that I want to feel something. Sometimes I do it because I can’t sleep. And sometimes, I do it just because I deserve it, I guess.”

When he doesn’t respond, you glance at him cautiously, breath catching when you see his somber expression. “Sanji… I told you not to look at me like that–”

Sanji wraps his arms around you in a tight hug. Normally you’d lean into it, but this time, you tense up. “Oi, be careful! I’m holding a sharp knife, here.”

“Y/n,” he says, ignoring your comment. “You don’t deserve it. I don’t know why you think you do, but you absolutely don’t.”

A lifetime of illness isn’t going to change from a single affirmation. You don’t agree with him, but you can appreciate the sentiment. It feels good to hear, at least.

“Thanks,” you sigh, setting down the knife but remaining tense. “I, uh. I’m grateful that you care…”

“It’s not just me,” Sanji says. “Anyone on this crew would say the same thing.”

“I’ve never doubted that,” you say. It’s not enough to stop your unfortunate coping method–you think all the love in the world couldn’t hold you back–but it’s still nice to know. You finally relax into his embrace, and he squeezes a little tighter.

Sanji pulls away a while later, and you’re startled to see him tearing up. “Sanji! Stop, you don’t–it’s fine! Please, stop!”

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he says, “I had no idea you were hurting. I can’t call myself a man…”

“Shut up! Of course you didn’t know. I put so much energy into hiding it.”

Sanji grabs your arms. “Then don’t. At least, not around me. You don’t have to hide it from me.”

You bite your lip. “But…”

“But what, love?”

“You don’t think I’m weak?” You blurt out before you can help yourself, unintentionally revealing one of your deep-seated fears.

You never thought you’d be admitting any of the stuff you’ve told him in the past minute, but here you are. Something about the cook just draws it out of you.

“Oh, Y/n. Of course not.”

You look at him like you don’t believe him.

“You’re hurting that much, and you’re still with us,” Sanji says softly. “I think that makes you strong, more than anything.”

His look of genuine sincerity makes your lower lip tremble for a moment, but you squash down your feelings before you completely lose control.

“Okay,” you say shakily. “Thank you, Sanji.”

You ask him to keep your issue secret, which he promises on his honor to uphold.

The next time the two of you are alone, he asks you how you’re doing.

“Great,” you chirp automatically, smiling on reflex, before you pause, remembering what he told you that one night. You don’t have to hide it from me. “...Actually, uh… I don’t really feel all that good.”

“You want to talk about it?” Sanji offers.

“Not really.”

“You want a hug?”

“...Yeah.”

Sanji embraces you, tight and warm, and this time, you let yourself cry just a bit.

Law

Law sees them when he’s inspecting an injury you received in the Heart Pirates’ latest scuffle. You’ve managed to avoid it for so long, but eventually you have to take off your shirt in front of him, revealing your shoulder, and what you’ve done to it.

Law looks at you in a way he never has before, in a way that is hard to describe. Like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. His stoic frown seems to deepen.

“It’s fine,” you say. “It’s been years. I don’t do that anymore.”

The frown turns to an expression of incredulousness. “Have you forgotten I’m a doctor?” You wince as he continues, “I know what a recent wound looks like. By the look of it, your newest cut was… twelve days ago.”

You’re shocked that he pinned the exact day. You gape at him for a moment before muttering, “I wouldn't call it a wound.”

You think the comment pisses him off, because he looks more than a little angry with you. “I can’t believe you just lied to my face.”

Oh. That’s what it was. You look away as guilt creeps in, unable to meet his eye. “I’m sorry, Captain. I just didn’t want to concern you with my problems.”

“I…” He pauses. “ I can’t… this was happening underneath my nose...”

You huff at the phrasing, not quite able to laugh at that moment. “No more ‘underneath your nose’ than any of the crew masturbating. It’s a private thing I do to relieve stress.”

“It’s not the same,” Law snaps.

Like you don’t know that. You know. You know it’s wrong. You don’t say anything. Law looks even more upset.

Then, he says, “I can hardly call myself a captain. All these years, and I had no idea you were hurting so much.”

You realize he’s mad at himself. You balk. “I’m… I’m not hurting.”

“Y/n, you cut yourself.”

For some reason, him saying it out loud makes it worse, your stomach churning as your mouth gets dry.

Silence hangs in the air, thick and uncomfortable. Finally, you say softly, “I’m sorry.”

The anger in his face drops for a moment. “Don’t apologize.”

Another awkward silence.

“What now?” You ask, afraid of the answer but unable to tolerate any more quiet.

Law’s expression softens. “From now on, you come talk to me when you’re not feeling well. That’s an order.”

“No. If I did that, I would be bothering you every day,” you argue.

“That’s fine.”

You frown. “But you’re not that type of doctor.”

“I don’t care,” he says. “I will be. For you.”

For you. Your jaw drops slightly in disbelief. You knew he cared, but that… That was more than you felt you deserved.

“I don’t want to worry you,” you say weakly. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Please.” Law takes your hand in both of his, looking at you intensely. “Please talk to me. Don’t bottle it up like this.”

You stare at him in disbelief, because you’ve never heard Law beg for anything. It’s all overwhelming–him seeing this awful part of you, him caring so much he says that, the warmth of his hands around yours. “Captain…” You close your eyes for a moment to lessen the stimulation of the surrounding world. “Okay.”

“Promise me.”

You look down at his hands holding yours, then up at him. “I promise. Next time, I’ll talk to you.” Then you look away again, because if you see him looking at you like that any longer, you think you might cry. And it’s been ages since you’ve last cried.

Law squeezes your hand, and the dam almost breaks. But you manage, barely, to stay composed.

You keep your promise, seeking him out as soon as the following day. You warned him it would be frequent, and when you approach him it’s with a feeling of guilt. But he reassures you, and he listens, just like he said he would.

Kid

Kid sees after he gets injured. The cut won’t stop bleeding, so you reluctantly take off one of your arm warmers to use as a tourniquet until you make it back to the ship.

Kid does a double take at your exposed arm. You feel your cheeks get hot, but say nothing while you finish tying the cloth tight.

After you finish, you step back to give him space, but Kid grabs your wrist, extending your arm so he can better look at it.

“Hey!” You protest, trying to pull away, but even in his non-metal hand, his grip is like iron. He doesn’t budge, openly staring at the scars and cuts.

“Kid!” You hiss, and he looks at you sharply for not calling him ‘Captain,’ “let go of me. And stop staring, damn it.”

He lets go. You pull your arm to your chest protectively. The two of you walk in silence, but you notice Kid won’t stop glaring at you.

“You got something to say?” You ask harshly, not meaning to snap but too nervous to speak calmly.

“Yeah, I do,” Kid bites back with equal pissiness. “Never do that shit again on my ship.”

The breath catches in your throat. “I can’t,” you admit before you can stop yourself.

“What was that?” He stops walking, turning to face you.

You stop too, tensing under the intensity of his full scrutiny. “...I can’t stop. I keep trying to quit, but… I have a bad day and I crave it, like a cigarette.”

Kid’s frown shows teeth. You feel yourself wither, but the admission keeps going, tumbling out of your mouth like a boulder rolling down a hill, unstoppable. “I won’t lie to you. It’s probably going to happen again. If that’s unacceptable, then I guess… I guess I have to leave the crew.” That thought hurts more than anything, and you bite your lip.

Kid’s hands ball into fists, his artificial hand screeching slightly with the grind of metal. “No one said you have to leave,” he says. “Nevermind. Just… Just keep trying to quit.”

He starts walking again. You have to trot to keep up, his legs that much longer than yours. Kid’s words repeat in your mind as you follow him, because coming from the prickly captain, it means more than he could possibly know. Keep trying, huh? Maybe… Maybe you will.

Your next concern is what you’ll do when you get back to the ship. Even if you run to where your spare clothes are stored, there’s a very good chance multiple crewmates will see your scars. They’re not exactly hard to spot.

Kid seems to read your mind, because right as you round the corner and the dock comes into view, he takes off his coat and drapes it over your shoulders without saying a word.

Your eyes widen, but he won’t look at you. With the difference in height between you, his coat is dragging on the ground, but he doesn’t seem to care.

Your heart clenches, but you don’t say anything either, knowing he’ll just snap if you point out his kindness. You slip your arms through the sleeves of his coat, your hands barely poking out of the too-long sleeves. The size difference between you makes you look a little ridiculous–you look like a pile of fabric with a head. You lift the bottom of his coat off the ground as you walk. It’s the least you can do.

(And, once you’re sure he’s not looking, you bury your nose into the fur of his coat and inhale deeply, taking comfort in his scent wrapped around you.)

Kid’s demeanor toward you changes after that. He’s far less harsh, he doesn’t raise his voice as often, and when he does, he quickly corrects himself. He’s generally just softer. You even notice that he appears around you more often and eventually realize that he’s checking on you. You never say anything, and you don’t really talk about it. But that’s okay.

His presence is enough.

Killer

Killer sees when he walks in on you in the shower. He leaves quickly with a muttered apology, and you don’t even realize he saw anything, at first. But after you dry off and get dressed, when you open the door, he’s standing there.

You only know he’s looking at you because his mask is tilted down in your direction. His bulk takes up the doorframe, and you wait for him to move. He doesn’t, as still as a gargoyle.

“Um… Killer?” You say. “If you want the shower, you have to move so I can get out…”

Killer reaches out, and at one point, you might have flinched. But you’ve known him so long, and Killer’s always been nice to you, even when you were new to the crew. You don’t feel any fear as one massive hand rests on your upper arm, where your scars are hiding under the sleeve of your shirt.

“What’s… oh, fuck,” you breathe as it dawns on you, “you saw it, didn’t you? Shit. Um. I, uh…”

Naturally, you can’t see his expression, and it’s kind of driving you crazy, because he’s not saying anything to show what he’s thinking, either. His hand around your arm squeezes slightly, and you swallow, not really knowing what that means.

“Killer…” You mumble. “I don’t… Uh… Look, just… You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

Killer pulls you toward him suddenly, as easily as if you weigh nothing, and wraps his massive arms around you, crushing you against him in a hug.

You squeak in surprise and instinctively squirm, but he doesn’t let go, so you give up after a moment, going still.

He’s so warm, and the contact feels so good. Almost too good, because suddenly you think you might cry, and you realize you haven’t actually been hugged in years. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so safe.

“Killer,” you choke out around a lump in your throat. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to cry.”

“That’s okay,” he rumbles above you, deep voice soothing. “You can cry. You probably need it, yeah?”

Damn it, that does you in, your eyes stinging as tears well up. You don’t want to, but his gentle permission is like a catalyst, and you sink into him as the tears start to roll down your cheeks. He can’t see it from how your face is pressed against his chest, but when he hears your first sniffle, his arms tighten around you.

Even while you cry, you try to hold back, to keep from openly sobbing. It’s like Killer can sense that, because his mask presses against the top of your head almost affectionately, and the action just makes you break down further until you finally let go entirely. Your arms, at first hanging limply at your sides, raise so you can hug him back, fingers digging into his shirt.

Killer holds you for as long as you need it. You’re not sure how much time has passed. Eventually your sobs fade and the tears stop, but even then, Killer doesn’t let go until you do first.

“Killer…” You look up at him gratefully, and he wipes away your tears with his hand. “Thank you. You were right. I needed that, more than I’d like to admit. Thank you…”

He nods.

“And, um,” you swallow, “you won’t, uh…”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Killer assures.

“Okay,” you sigh, now more than a little tired after the swell of emotion. “I know you don’t like keeping things from Kid, so… Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You’re about to step past him when Killer gently grabs your wrist. “Y/n.”

You turn back to him, your expression asking the question for you.

He bends over, lowering his head until his mask touches your forehead. His free hand takes your other wrist. “People care about you. The crew. Kid. Me. We all care.”

You might have cried again if you hadn’t just let it all out a minute ago, but it doesn’t stop your chest from getting tight. “I know.”

Killer’s thumbs rub circles on your arms for a minute before he lets you go, straightening to his full height.

You assume that would be the last time he holds you. It would have been good enough. Even though you kind of crave the physical attention after that, you’re satisfied with the one time. But Killer seeks you out again later in the week, waiting until the two of you are alone to envelop you in another hug. He does it again days later, and again after that. In fact, you realize that he takes the chance to do so whenever you two are in private. It doesn’t happen too often on the ship.

But when it does, well, how can you be upset?

Thanks so much for reading! I hope it made you feel better, if only a little. (Reblogs are much appreciated!)

[sillygoofyqueer]

Unnecessary Underworld Saga thing that nobody asked for ever:

The Underworld:

- Warning the others immediately, thinking of them with everything going on

- Echoes and screams are all he can think of, talking about nightmares, haunted by his choices especially in the underworld

- All the men under his command, screaming his name, guilt, echoing Poseidon's words

- The idea that all of the men that died due to Poseidon are still screaming his name in hopes that he will safe them because he always painted himself as the rock of the army

- The anger they feel for his mercy of the Cyclops that led to their deaths, permeated with the helpless, desperate confusion of why their lives weren't as important as that of the Cyclops

- The fact that Odysseus managed to get all of them through the war but they died because of the decision he made to spare the Cyclops, meaning that if he hadn't chosen mercy they would have more likely still been alive

- Poseidon was right to say ruthlessness was mercy upon yourself, because then one does not have to feel the guilt if their choice of mercy was wrong, which is how Odysseus feels

- Can't even close his eyes to escape, because they're all around him

- Thinks of the infant he had to kill, guilt eating away at him - we ourselves cannot hear the infant because it was unable to even speak, so we hear it from Odysseus' own mouth, highlighting the remorse and guilt he feels for that one specifically

- Immediately hit with Polites right after his admission, the helpless way he says his best friend's name

- The soft way the music switches with this, emphasising the remorse and grief that comes with hearing Polites' voice

- The fact that the song is Polites talking about how amazing life is when one lets themself enjoy it, and it's a soft memory, because Polites was Odysseus' best friend, and Odysseus was (in his opinion) the cause of Polite's death.

- The idea that Odysseus lost sight of his best friend's advice, too lost in the war and caring about the others around him.

- The way Odysseus whispers Polites' name after hearing his echoey song, the pain in his voice at the loss of his best friend

- The small moment of silence before one hears that voice, the word 'waiting', and the surprised recognition in Odysseus' voice because he hadn't expected to hear it in this place of death

- His mother, who was always waiting the moment he left, who he didn't know had died and probably wouldn't until he had made it back home

- The idea that his mother was adamant on not dying until she saw her son again, and the pain that Odysseus feels as he whispers about 'taking too long'

- The pain in his voice as he murmurs 'mum' because he genuinely is shocked that she's here and he cannot comprehend that he wasn't back in time to see his mother

- How his mother must have felt on her deathbed, knowing that she wouldn't be able to see her son one last time before she died

- The gentle, almost hopeful melody that represents her hope that she would see her son again after the war was over, and the pain in Odysseus because he knows that he wasn't back in time to be there for her

- The fact that he still tries to soothe his mother even though he knows that she's gone and can't hear him, trying to reach out and tell her that he is there, even if he wasn't there when it was truly important

- More guilt as he realises that he will never see his mother because he took too long and went too far, the idea of the child leaving the mother's sight and never seeing her again

- The harmonising and repeating of 'waiting' from Odysseus, because now he will be the one waiting to see her again across life, and her still waiting for her son even in death, reassuring him that she will always love him despite everything

- The pause of the ocean and the sound of the boat moving as the voice fades out, leaving Odysseus with just his thoughts, the pain in his voice as he murmurs his last ever goodbye to his mother, and she can't even hear him

- The sharp rise in screams and the way that Odysseus screams the next lines, emphasising the guilt and anguish he's feeling through this journey, can't escape

- The fact that the others harmonise, because they must be seeing their own things as well, because they have been through so much as well -> What are they seeing that Odysseus isn't?

No Longer You:

- The prophet greeting them, because he knew they were coming, sounding solemn as he sings gracefully

- Solemn as he explains that there is a world where he does help Odysseus and his crew, but that is not a world that he knows, meaning he won't help them

- The confusion and accusation in Odysseus' response of 'what'

- The prophet saying that he does see the way that Odysseus does get home, through betrayal and hardship, seeing how he dies, then ripping it all away with the fact that Odysseus is no longer that man

- Brings it back to “Keep Your Friends Close” when Odysseus tries to say that everything has changed but he is still the same, and the prophet taking away that small security he had

- The pain and anger in Odysseus' tone as he speaks of how they have suffered just to get help from the prophet, and now they're being told that he won't help them

- The prophet proclaiming of how he can see Odysseus' home bathed in the blood of the men who thought him dead (reference to the hundred suitors who stuck around Penelope during his absence) and the fact that he sees Penelope with a man (doesn't say the name of the man, describes him as having a trail of bodies, most likely Odysseus)

- The utter rage in Odysseus' voice as he cries "who", because how dare someone take the last thing he has left keeping him going and so determined to get home

- The idea that this opera is the screams finally getting to Odysseus

Monster:

- The confusion of how everything has changed highlighting that he genuinely didn't see it changing, which is why its such a shock: suffering never ceasing, everything turning against the well meaning soldiers

- The once determined Odysseus now helplessly asking how he could ever see Penelope and his son again, showing that he is at a loss of what to do after suffering so much

- Asking if he needs to change to make something happen, after all of the effort he put into trying to stay the same; the final barrier being broken

- Being surrounded by all those deaths he believes himself to be responsible for, wondering if they're there because he was so stubborn in trying not to change

- Crossing everyone's lines but his own, the guilt in that recognition and idea that he may be the greatest threat, suddenly doubting himself and his views, wondering if it was all his fault

- Literally questioning everything about himself, blaming himself and calling himself a monster even with all of the pain he himself has been through to try and keep everyone safe

- Questioning if he has been too kind to those trying to harm him, and wondering if that impacted on those he tried so valiantly to protect

- Wondering if the Cyclops ever feels guilty for his murders and mistakes, or if he killed a few of Odysseus' men to avenge his fallen friend and feel confident in himself (the supposed monster reacting better than Odysseus to avenge his friend -> “Remember Them” instead of avenging them like the Cyclops did)

- Wondering if Circe is insane for protecting her nymphs by turning men to pigs, or if she changed to be colder and less guilty just so her nymphs didn't have to and she could protect them better (The idea that Odysseus was unable to change to save his men but the supposed witch was able to to protect those she cared about)

- Wondering if Poseidon feels fear when he kills the mortals for disrespecting him, or if he does what is necessary to protect himself by killing them as a warning to those and gaining respect that he needs (The idea that Odysseus was too scared to stop dissent within the army that could have him killed, while the supposed tyrant god did what he had to to ensure that people knew the consequences of disrespecting him)

- Wondering if the soldier using a wooden horse to invade Troy was vile, or if he was willing to put his own guilt aside to save the lives of so many others (The idea that Odysseus was so determined to stick to his moral code that he let hundreds die for it, while the supposed villain was willing to put aside his own moral code to save hundreds)

- So called monsters being able to do what Odysseus should have done

- Questioning what would happen if Odysseus became one of those so called monsters, doing whatever necessary to return home to his wife and child, as well as save the lady few men that he has under his command

- Odysseus echoing Poseidon's words emphasising a change in views, finally understanding what the god meant when he told Odysseus what he did, changing a character and finally ready to do it

- Listing all those he lost because he was too scared to change because he didn't know what would happen to him if it happened, guilt permeating it because he wonders if they would still be alive if he had changed

- The idea of not seeing his wife and son being the final straw for Odysseus, what pushes him across the line and breaks the final string holding together his moral compass; he will do anything to see his family again, no matter the cost

- willing to throw away his humanity so that he can see his family and keep others from dying, even going as far as saying that he is willing to kill another infant if it means they can do this, willing to go up against any gods and monsters

- He is willing to become the monster, finally willing to change and twist himself into something that nobody will recognise after everything that has happened to him; literally throwing away his humanity, warping into something else (like Circe)

- Knowing that he must become the monster in order to go home, questioning what the fuck is wrong with becoming the monster, finally allowing himself to be a lot more selfish

- Selfishness for himself over selfishness of others ruined him, so he's saying fuck it

- The last jarring sting emphasising the change of our hero to something unpredictable and monstrous

[cosmomoore]

I finished up my cyclops head for a new Kabbit/Shadow High hybrid.

I made them an outfit and a quick wig that may get dyed.

(Kabbit is a 3D Printable BJD by Aelith Art, he sells the files through his Etsy and Patreon and encourages remixes and new designs utilizing his files. I took one of his head designs and did some modifications and additional sculpting to create my Cyclops sculpt. I am planning to sell cyclops heads to fit RH/SH on my Ko-Fi.)

[ns2dstudios]

Now that I'm done posting all my Epic sh*tposts, I'll now start sharing here in tumblr my EPIC full animatics, not by order of creation, but in chronological order based on the songs. I haven't made anything from before the Circe Saga, so what you'll see here is from Circe onwards, including officially commissioned EPIC animatics from Jorge Rivera-Herrans himself.

Done For is technically my second EPIC animatic. Huge thanks to Chud for sugggesting the cyclops weapon and how it was acquired :)

[small-sinclair]

Saint Daisy

A story based off a poll I did. The story takes place after a battle and and Gambit is part of the cleanup crew. Might make it into a series on here and on AO3! This is my first time writing for him, so be nice.

Requests for him are open.

Tw: Character death, blood, angst

The battle didn't last long in the little town. If anyone had to be honest with each other, it didn't seem to last more than an hour, but that doesn't mean that it didn't leave behind wreckage. Builds in the small street strip were either gone or had holes in them. The road had a creator in the center where Cyclops used his powers at full strength, making the traffic light hang on for dear life. Luckily, the library where children were hidden did not get touched. Storm and Wolverine put up that line and kept everything and anything away from that area. It was a team effort to keep people safe from this mutant, and they did the best they could to keep the town safe. The smell of burnt car metal and rubber filled the air along with the sounds of people working together to help each other out.

There is always unity whenever tragic things happen, and it's sad to see. There should be unity everywhere, no matter if they are mutant or not. There's a book Remy read somewhere, or a story someone told him, about how a sailor and the sea made a pack, a team, to get the sailor home to save his village from a flood. Someone told him that story, but he couldn't see their face anymore; just the voice remained. He wished he could remember that person and light a candle for them on All Saints Day in New Orleans. He would retell it every now and then, but he couldn't say who told him. They needed to be remembered...that's all he knows.

The X-Men were split into two teams: One medical and help, one clean-up. As much as Gambit wanted to be with the medical team, he knew he was needed with the clean-up. He helped move rubble up and blew a bus door open for the passengers to be free and get help. He checked his cards every now and then, knowing he would have to get another pack soon, but he would worry about that later. With a charged 7 of Clubs, he cut the bus driver's seat belt off and helped him out of the driver's seat, handing him off to a group of helpers. He was gentle with some as he moved them off the bus, helping them to the side and sorting them based off injury. Some hugged him tight, thanking him, while some shoved him off, grumbling something unpleasant as they limped away.

"Has anyone checked the seamstress shop?" An officer asked, helping an elderly woman towards the medical tent.

Gambit shook his head and answered, "No, Gambit'll check." His accent was thicker than normal today, rolling off his lips like a waterfall during a calm day. "Won't be long, promise."

The officer nods as he led the small group the library, leaving Gambit alone. The turns and began to make his way to the shop on the corner. The bricks were painted a dark forest green while the door was painted a sunflower yellow. The window was broken and the sign above the door was hanging by two screws and a wire. Even though this part of town wasn't affected by the battle, it still looked like it was part of a bomb blast by the way the window was blown in and glass scattered around the shop.

Gambit had to push his shoulder into the wooden door to get it open and walked carefully over the glass. His eyes flickered over each corner, looking for anything, then landed on the hole in the floor behind the counter. He felt an uneasy pit form in his stomach as he stood close to it and his chest tightened at the thought of looking down into the darkness. He took a deep breath as he looked forward towards a door. He didn't know what he was feeling scared or anxious; something didn't feel right.

The door opened easily for Gambit and the steps under his feet creaked under his boots. He held a card in his hand and held it up, charging it to make it glow a soft pink and red light.

"Hello?" He shouts into the darkness. "If ya need help, call out!"

He didn't like how silent the basement sounded, and he didn't like that the only somewhat light source was his playing card and the evening light from the hole from above. Gambit took a shaky breath as he walked over the stoned floor. As much as he wasn't to turn and leave, thinking there was no one, something screamed at him to stay and look by the rubble and dust. His steps were careful as he went to the pile under the hole from the floor above and felt his breath taken from his body.

Under the rubble was the back of a person, protecting something small underneath. Without think, Gambit moved the rubble, lifting the broken wood and shattered glass off the person. A large piece of wood, a beam, crushed their legs, but he was able to lift it off and toss it to the side. He looked back at the person and felt his heart ache as he saw her dark red hair and light pink dress being stained with blood. He could smell the iron and rich copper--even as he looked down at his boot, he felt sick as he stood in the woman's blood.

Kicking the glass and rubble aside, he knelt next to her. He took off his jacket and placed it over her then turned her over slowly until he was holding her in his arms. She was breathing, but it was shallow and too slow. She was going to be dead soon; all he can do is make her comfortable in the meantime. He couldn't count the times he held someone dying in his arms. He couldn't say the number that fell to his powers and how many lives he took before the X-Men, before he became a man.

But his heart began to break as the world began to cave. "Mon Dieu..."

His eyes widened as he saw the small child in her arms, a baby who looked no older than 10 days, laid silently breathing in her arms. His red on black eyes glowed in the darkness as his blood began to freeze then boil once more. He carefully held the mother close and rested his chin in her head, closing his eyes. He felt her flinching slightly, knowing that these would be her last moments, and it pained Gambit beyond words.

"Tout va bien, mon ami," he whispers, his voice cracking. "It'll be right."

"My-my daughter--"

"Shh, she sleeps fine," he answers, pulling his jacket around her tighter. "Her name, tell me."

The mother swallowed hard as tears threatened to fall. "Daisy," she whispered, holding her child closer. "I-I'm all she has."

He sits her up slightly so she could rest comfortably in his arms, her head on his shoulder and arm around her side. Gambit wanted to promise her the next sunrise, but that wasn't enough. That would never be enough. "Dat's a beautiful name, ma'am," he said, his voice soft enough. "She's jus' as pretty as you." He earned a gentle smile from her before she shuddered and tensed in pain. He held her closely, protecting her from the unseen, and closed his eyes.

"Daisy doesn't have anyone," she said, her voice beginning to fade. "She'll be alone."

Gambit shook his head as his eyes softens. "She'll live wit' me," he didn't what he was saying; he had no clue, "she'll want for nothin'."

Tears rolled down her cheek as her strength began to leave her. "...your name...?"

"Gam-- Remy," he said, seeing his red eyes reflect in hers. "Remy LeBeau." His hand slipped from her side and held her cheek. "An' you hav' my word she'll want nothin' from dis world, chérie. Gambit promises ya." He felt himself beginning to chock up as he watched her eyes grow dim and fade with the sunset. "Rest now, ma chérie. Ya did so much t'day...so much..."

She took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh of relief, her light green eyes lulling to the side and closing for the last time. He felt her go limp in his arms, her warm blood burning into his skin, and felt a lump rising to his throat. He lowered his head and kissed her forehead, letting his tears stream down her cheek. You're never the same after seeing someone die, but you'll never recover whenever a mother dies with their child in their arms. A chocked sob escaped as he lowered his head, crying into her neck, and held her tighter. He felt as if he lost his own mother, his own family, all over again.

What path would he take after this will be a long one.

He takes a staggering breath as he lowers the mother gently to the ground. He'll bury her in his jacket; he can get a new one. With shaking hands, he reached down where the sleeping child was and lifted them carefully into his arms. The little girl was wrapped in cloth after cloth, blanket after blanket, as a shield from the glass and dust. His hand trembled as he held the little head closer to his chest, letting it be close to his heart. Gambit takes a shaky breath as his finger caressed the sleeping baby's cheek and let out a staggering breath as a quick cry escaped. He brought the child closer to him and cried in her blankets.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice low and strain. "I"m so sorry, cherie." Gambit felt as if something around him built up as he heard the baby coo then sleep in his arms once more. He looked down at her mother, speaking boldly and confidently, "I swear it--I promise I'll do everythin' so she could live a life worth yours." Something began to burn in his soul and it started to eat him alive. "I promise...I promise."

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

Gambit felt like a fawn who just found their legs as he made his way back to the library. He tucked the baby close to him as each step felt like the rocks in his boots. His arms didn't grow tire as he carried the baby. His eyes would look down every now and then, whispering something low and Cajun. He thought about the person who read him that sailor and the ocean story, sparing a thought for them, and continue his walk. He tucked the little blanket closer over the child, his eyes watering once more. She wouldn't be alone in this world, Gambit promised and he's a man of his word.

He would give her the world that his own parents couldn't even think of doing. Remy's mind already made up a little fantasy of Daisy getting ready for a basketball game, ready to go with him with a bright smile on her face. He already thought about calling her "Spades", calling her as his own. The late nights doing homework, long drives through the swamp lands, the arguments and the door slams, the laughter and jokes--it's something he found himself craving. They type of normalcy he wanted ever since he was a boy. He saw others in the Gilde start families and settle, and that type of life style wasn't meant for him, not given. He's a mutant, a danger to some...he can't have this life.

But those thoughts faded as he heard her coo once more and yawn. He'll give it all, his powers and life, to make sure she finds the love his own family didn't even want to give him when he was born.

The first one who noticed his tired face and strained eyes was Rogue. Normally, he would call out to her and say something sweet, but he felt he would wake Daisy. He only offered a sad smile and soften eyes as she met him half-way.

He could see she was trying to form words to ask, but she closed when he nodded down at the babe in the pink and yellow blankets. She stayed silent as she looked down at Daisy then at Gambit.

"Mama died," he whispers, feeling the lump rise again. "Dis is Daisy...she ain't got anyone." He leaned into Rogue's yellow glove, closing his eyes, as tears began to fall again. "She was in so much pain, cherie. I couldn't save 'er. Gambit couldn't...he couldn't save her." He then looked down at Daisy then at Rogue. "I can't leave the belle behind."

"You sure, Remy?" Her voice was gentle as her touch. Everything about her look made him feel like he was breaking like ice under his boots. "She's just a baby--"

"I don't wanna abandoned her like my own did," he answers. "I gave my word. Ya know Gambit can't break 'is word."

"I know, but," there was a glimmer in her eyes that he wanted to capture like fireflies in a jar, "are you sure?"

He nods. "If there ain't family here, I'll take her." Gambit smiles down at the sleeping baby. "Besides, you always said you wanted a family. It's worth it, no? Starting wit' her?"

Rogue found herself smiling with him as her gloved hand brushed Daisy's forehead. "You're crazy."

"We're crazy, Mon Cherie."

"Does she have a name?"

"Daisy."

"Well," she met Gambit's eyes and said warmly, "I guess we should get the little thing checked out and go from there."

Gambit's eyes softened as he began to move, taking steps towards the library and the medical area. From then on, he knew his life would change, both his and the X-Men. Come hell or high water, nothing will go after Daisy. Even if he has to die as he hunts down that mutant that did this, he owes it to Daisy and her mother. In the rough draft of life and it starting all over again... he would gladly take the pen and write it again. If the professor tells him to give up the child, he would tell him to go to hell and fight him. This was his right and a way to give something his own blood couldn't.

"Gambit's gotcha," he whispers as they came closer to nurses and worried voices. "I'll always have you."

[thequeenofthedisneyverse]

Epic: The musical game - more in depth

Me and my new mutual @mariylle have been talking and came up with these ideas for an Epic: The Musical gameplay

Ok, so to start off, this isn't the dating sim version. That'll be further talked about down the line. My ideas are red, Mariylle's are purple

Troy Saga

So basically, my idea was us from our universe, being sent to Ody's to make sure they all actually get home safely. We grow up alongside Odysseus, Eurylochus, and Polites and signed up for war with them.

Some things in the game would be inevitable. Like even if the crew didn't open the bag, Poseidon would have found them and sent them away from home anyway. So, some things could come out better but some things, like any good tragedy, would have to happen regardless.

In regard to the Troy Saga, all events happening in that are inevitable. Including the Infant incident. Y/n knows Zeus made him do it and if y/n were to step in they'd just piss of Zeus and cause more problems later on.

Imagine talking to odyssues after he dropped that baby 😬😬

To be clear, Prophet y/n is a soldier too. (side idea: y/n could have had hurt their head badly and therefore our powers don't work all too well afterwards. Hence why we see certain events but not others. This could be a way of letting inevitable events happen)

2. Cyclops saga

Y/n would probably stop Polites and Ody from going into the cave by telling them it's a trap or tell them to just quickly get in the cave, get the sheep, and get out, NO TALKING!

But they can't kill the cyclops until they get out of the cave. Or at least stop Ody from doxing himself.

One funny option should be smacking the sh*t out of Ody before he says his name (just for gags). Fully animated and everything!

But the other options should be talking Ody out of it not killing Polyphemus to the BEST of your ability. You have to be mindful of whatever text option you choose ensures the safety of the crew AND you.

If we keep the "game 1" options, you have True Endings and Good endings depending on your text. The true ending leads to the next game but Good Endings mean, for that game, you get to go home.

And the worst part is you can't even explain WHY you just b*tch slapped the king. The game should hinder you from saying anything OR you could tell him that you "dreamed" of that cyclops being Poseidon's son and therefore Poseidon coming after he's told what happened. You could be an onboard prophet if you will.

(I imagine getting the entire crew's reaction after we just slap the hell out of him. All of em are just flabbergasted

I'm sure eury would slap you too, or even kill you for such disrespect but I'd love to see it! It'd be funny!)

I like to think we should be given a chance in each saga to stop a certain event from happening. If we don't manage to get a good ending (going home) the game will continue on to the next one which would be Ocean saga.

I forgot to add but Polites should be saved in this level/game

3. Ocean saga

If you make it to Ocean saga you should be determined to keep the bag CLOSED by any means necessary. If Odysseus manages to trust you enough, he'll give you the bag so he can sleep.

So, Prophet! Y/n would be the one staying up for nine days and then when we're tired Odysseus will take it.

I was also thinking, if we don't get Odysseus to trust us in time, he'll fall asleep, and we grab it to keep it safe.

I imagine Y/n getting fed up with the antics and is just like "LOOK YOU GREEDY MOTHER F*CKERS! I WAS NOT SENT HERE JUST SO YOU ALL CAN GET YOURSELVES KILLED. WE ARE GOING HOME AND SO HELP ME ZEUS IF YOU ALL KEEP TRYING TO GET THIS BAG OPEN, I WILL RESORT TO BRUTE FORCE!"

Yes, that would be a text option.

In other words, y/n is just like a tired dad dealing with idiot sons. If we don't choose the option to fend off the boys, the bag at some point will be opened by Eury.

When Eury opens the bag...there should be a full animation of our character either cussing him out in full tears, fighting him like, literally FIGHTING him, or slapping him across the face.

Another option would be to tell Odysseus that SOMEBODY (we won't tell its Eury, we'll pin the blame on another crew member) will open the bag and we'll keep it safe so he can sleep.

A funny gag would just be us fending off crew members while trying to keep the bag closed.

imagine y/n chasing him all over the boat back and forth lmao. And the crew, including Ody, are just starring in pure disbelief.

"YOU OPENED THE BAG! YOU JUST HAD TO DIDN'T YOU?!!"

Or another option would be to keep quiet take the blame for it opening (y'know, for Eury fans)

4. Circe saga

Now, you would try to warn the men as best you could to NOT eat the food. I think it would be really angsty if you can't tell them why and all you can respond with "Just- just DON'T! I have a bad feeling about this!" Or "Just because she's a woman doesn't mean she has our best interest at heart."

"Don't go in there, she'll turn you all into pigs. Let me talk to her and just explain that we mean no harm". And then you would talk to Circe about everything, Including the pig thing. I'm sure she would be shocked as to how we know this, but we can tell her we are a future-seer who was sent to this world to ensure this crew gets home safely. We were "sent by the gods to undo catastrophic events" if you will.

"So, please just give us non-pig transformation food and...can you help us get to the underworld?"

Keep in mind, you don't remember much about the prophet except Odysseus is supposed to see him. And you got hurt during the war, so your memory is still a bit off.

5. Underworld Saga

If we, prophet! y/n, make it to the underworld saga our character should feel a little distraught and hopeless. Because no matter what we did we still ended up there despite all our attempts not to. Insult to emotional injury is if we didn't save Polites and see his spirit.

6. Thunder saga

We still do not survive the thunder saga. But I also kinda like the idea of Zeus being like "Hmm. You're not supposed to be here. You can stay. I'd like to see what you'll do."

Yeah, what if Zues KNOWS why y/n is there but also knows that we failed to do our task, so keep us alive just to let us live with the fact that we didn't stop anything from happening no matter how hard we tried.

Miscellaneous ideas

Another cool idea I had would be Y/n being a god themselves but a small scale one. Our power/strength can only do so much, so our power maxes out quickly.

Hence why some events would happen, and others wouldn't. We would have dealt with the cyclops but too tired to stop Poseidon.

One life changing event per game. It's a limited recourse and you can't wear yourself out

IMAGINE ZEUS GAVE YOU THE POWER. Like he notices you've been dropped in and is like "hmmm. How can I mess with mortals today? APOLLO give this man the power to change destiny, even just the slightest."

But we would use all of our power to save the men in thunder saga. Imagine an epic battle between you and Zeus. Like, imagine he's about to zap everyone into dust but you catch the lightning and absorb it, then using it against him.

If you play your cards right, and not get hit so many times, you'll save the crew and yourself. But if you get hit a lot, you'll only be able to save the crew and not yourself.

But this sounds like a whole other game LOL but semi-prophet y/n in a dating sim would still be so fun. It's like "which route would you like to take"

Absolutely! It could be a cute cartoon style while dating one of the boys but turns into 3D fighting style sequences for the canon events.

Amazing. Star stunning. Nothing I love more than dating sims with a hidden element to them (horror or action)

I think the time between after the war and before leaving on the boat should be when we can start dating them. Because all of you are done with the ten-year war in troy and are about leave. I think some moments before "Open arms" should be moments where we talk to our lover as well.

-

Text is from other post:

A Tragic Tale Dating Sim

First off, Odysseus would be off the table (that man loves his wife). As well as Eurylochus because he's married to Ody's sister, Ctimene.

HOWEVER, they could be dateable, but you guys would have to be already married. You are married to Odyssues and platonically or romantically married to Penelope/ You are married to Eurylochus and platonically or romantically married to Ctimene.

(I don't think the sim would/should delve on whether you platonically or romantically married their wives. It should be up for interpretation by the player)

Some others would be Polites (of course), Perimides, and Elpenor just to name a few.

Seeing as Ody had 600 MEN in his crew, you’ll have to a male player for this sim, if that wasn’t obvious.

You guys could already be in an established relationship (either private or public. Though with Perimides' character it might be private) and are so gushy over each other it’s sickening. They are simps for you like how Ody is a simp for Penelope.

Idk, reblog with your ideas (And before anyone comments, yes, a dating sim would be pointless but Tragic tale dating sims aren't common and one in Epic style would be interesting...and sad)

And yes, like in the musical, you die with them. I'm not sure if you should die with the others if you chose the "Married to Odysseus option" but...wouldn't it be more angsty if ya did?

I female version could be where you play a nymph on Circe's Island. And from what I've read in this post with ideas from Mariylle.

So, I think the romance would be short lived I suppose? OR this could be a wlw situation with Circe or the other Nymphs.

But another version would be where you are a female sailor on Ody's ship and end up at Circe's island. I think it would be kind of difficult . for you to romance the ladies. I don't think female sailors were allowed back then either.

So, a storyline could be you were a nymph that was friends with Ody since childhood. And because of that (and probably your navigation/fighting skills) he let you on the ship because it's always been your dream to travel.

Then you come upon Circe's island, but you don't know what happened to the other men until Eurylochus comes along and spills the tea.

You attempt to convince Circe yourself to let the boys go/or distract the other nymphs so Ody can talk to Circe himself. A later option would be to stay with the Nymphs because Circe wants you to stay where you belong.

it's the first time you've come upon other nymphs (besides your mother of course) so of course you'd want to stay. And what if after you stay and "a few years pass" and Ody comes back to the Island...but only to tell you that your other childhood best friend Eury and the rest of the crew is dead. He just wants you to come back to Ithica for the funeral.

He conveniently leaves out how they died. You, the nymph, grew up with Ody so you know he's leaving something. You are given the option to ask but he will just deny it/reflect it.

And like... knowing your friends died it's not even like you really want to know right now anyway.

Yeah, being told they died is already a bit much. But on the bittersweet side, you get to meet Ody's son, Telemachus, because the last time you saw him was when he was a baby.

Ody's mom is dead too and she was like an aunt to you so...yeah, more trauma.

Your nympha mom is still up and running though, she is Ody's mothers age but physically only looks 40 or 50.

-

This is all we have so far let me know what ya'll think.

[misguidedasgardian]

MY DEAR AUTHOR IVE BEEN CATCHING UP ON YOUR CREGAN STORY AND IT IS *CHEFS KISS* AMAZING! I CAN'T WAIT FOR AEMOND TO SUFFER FOR ALL THE MANIPULATION AND BULLSHIT HE'S BEEN PUTTING MC THROUGH OH MY GOD THE WAY MY BLOOD WAS ABSOLUTELY BOILING WHEN WE SAW SOME OF MC'S INNER MONOLOGUE LIKE OOOF I WANNA PUNCH THAT MOTHERFUCKING CYCLOPS IN HIS PRETTY FACE 😡👊🏻💥

IM SO GLAD SHE GOT TO GO THROUGH ALL THE STAGES OF A BREAKUP ON THAT CRUISE SURROUNDED BY FAMILY LIFTING HER UP AND GETTING HER HYPED FOR HER FRESH START AND WHEN SHE GOT THERE AND JACE WAS THE FIRST TO GREET HER AND BE FRIENDLY WITH HER AND SEEM SO EXCITED THAT SHES THERE MAKES ME SO HAPPY AND SARA'S REACTION TO MC BEING HER NEW ROOMATE I JUST KNOW THAT MC IS ABOUT TO ENTER HER ERA OF LIVING HER LIFE AS HER OWN PERSON WITHOUT THE WEIGHT OF THAT BLONDE BITCH

ALSO I THOUGHT IT WAS FUCKING HILARIOUS THAT ALL THE LANNISTERS LEFT AND KINGS LANDING WENT INTO CHAOS AND THEY WERE ALL HAVING BRUNCH ALL CAREFREE AND NO WORRIES FUCKING LOVE THAT FOR THEM LOL

I can't wait to see Cregans reaction to meeting MC in all her BBQ goodness lol

And again I hope both Alys and Aemond suffer just like they both deserve 😊

AAHH THANK YOU SO SO MUCH !

YES YOU CAN'T BELIEVE AEMOND'S AUDACITY! HE HAS NO LIMITS! MUAHAHA BUT CREGAN WILL COME TO FIX EVERYTHING MUAHAHA

YES YES YES SHE DESERVED ALL THE GOOD THINGS THANK YOU SO MUCH I JUST THOUGH SHE DESERVED LOVE AFTER ALL THAT SH*T SHE WENT TROUGH

JAJAAAA JASON , TYLAND AND CERENNA WERE LIKE

ENJOYING THE DRAMA AND CHAOS JAJA IT WAS CERTAINLY GOOD FOR THEIR EGOS

OH CREGANW ANTED TO LICK THE BBQ RIGHT OFF HER FACE WITH HIS TONGUE LIKE MMMMM JAJAJA

MORE DRAMA IS COMING! AFTER READER IS WELL SET UP IN WINTERFELL THOUGH HAHA

THANK YOU SO MUCH NOONIE I READ THIS OVER AND OVER AND IT MADE ME SMILE HAHA

[emetophobiahelp]

X-Men'97 episodes 1-6 are completely safe. Does include some blood from the mouth but no v*. In episode 5 while Jean is arguing with Cyclops outside shs suddenly experiences a spike in her psychic power and she gasps and leans over with her hands on her mouth. The scene switches but when it comes back its shown she did not v* but her nose is simply bleeding.

.

[why-am-i-always-hungruy]

thanks for the tag!! i decided to just make something as close to irl me as i could. you can see my sh scars, but i dont think it would need a tw

TAGSSS 🙃@ionlytalktodogs @spineshatteringangel @melonwithseeds @formydamage @mcqueens-lightning @helphowdoiusethis @howdydoodle-toodleloo @finleyforevermore @tansybengsch @angel-and-the-serpent @the-jane-prentiss @guyinbluu @sparrow-the-tired-lesbian @lordohio @adventures-in-mimesis @matxhstixkers @not-sobasicbisexual @deadbeat-cyclops @l3mon-boy @divinegrump @sparrowsortadrawzzz @jackinistafflower @iceeericeee @gallopinggallifreyans @soapwalls @fossilized-forest-friend @justtorzaplease @art-isnt-arting @itsmyturnonthegender @hanging-with-the-gnomies @atthispointeverythingischaos @idkwhatthisisbutheresdcandstuff @here-and-genderqueer @ne0nwisp @flowerycoffin

guys i found another picrew :3

I really liked this one. Anyways here’s mine :3

Ok moots here you go :3

@mayhem-moth @whatamibutabutteredcroissant @whenisthefall @multifandom-asexual @murky-goop @a-random-mooshroom @a-had-matter @lord-hunkyhair @godofautism @slickitysloth @6arelyhereff @rat-paws @agentldiddy @the-post-crow @acewithobsessions @thatqueervampire @indecisivebitch3000 @magical-bear-dubin @fuitgummygirlthing @mysticflowerz @ibuildblasters @floralcavern @achilleskayy @shotonetoback @shoe109 @mychemvampires @mychemical-andie @ging-catboy @newgod-apollo @oatmeal-gg @nestgoblin @atomicsheepscientist @part-time-deranged @wierdshenanigans @extralegobrick @from-now-on-im-switzerland @ literally anybody else who sees this please join even tho you’re not tagged im SO sorry if i missed you

[edgydadster]

t- ... This was a vent-