#Spill my guts in the tags again but what else is new have done this for years so whatever

[backpackingspace]

Hey this just in? Ptsd sucks balls

[romana-after-dark]

Our Gentle Sins: Part 7

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

My god this header is ass but I was an emo kid what can I say

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Chapter summary: Past. Logan has a nightmare. Present. You have a nightmare.

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religous trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

EXTRA WARNING!!!!: Pretty graphic. Again, I cant and wont tag everything but I dont wanna throw you off.

2.3 words

Before

“Logan?”

Your voice broke through the noise, the sound of machine guns and children screaming and a bomb dropped in the distance but he heard you. Everything was disjointed, every war, just or unjust, melded into others. Nazi’s shot by WWI German troops, a confederate soldier beheading an English man, Indigenous tribes fighting alongside terrorists, a confusing group to say the least. Still, he heard you.

“Logan!”

You, standing in the middle of it all in a modest pink dress. You, pristine as if you were teaching a class but surrounded by blood and bodies and murdered innocents. You, who when he blinked, was covered in blood but not from bullets or beyonets or gunned up airplanes, but slashed up like Freddy Kruger was hopping his way into his dream. You were holding your stomach, scrambling to keep your guts inside yourself. He was trying to reach you, but hands pulled him back. He couldn’t see faces, but Logan knew they were the hands of all those he’d killed. In front of him, separating Logan from you now, were other. Scott, Charles, Jean, everyone who’d told him to stay away from you.

They aren’t helping you, they aren’t even trying. Instead, they just admonish Logan.

“See what you've done?” Jean asks, and Logan tries to push through.

“She’s bleeding! She needs help!” He screams and screams, watching as you fall to your knees, blood beginning to spill out your mouth. “I need to help her!”

Charles now, voice calm. “I think you’ve done enough.”

“No! I didn’t hurt her! I’d never hurt her! Please, Dolly! Dolly I’m coming!”

Scott, for some reason without his glasses. “We knew this would happen, we knew you couldn’t be trusted, Logan.”

“I wouldn’t hurt her! PLEASE! Just- Let me- DOLLY!!!”

You’ve collapsed, convulsing on the ground as you shout his name over and over again. Logan screams for you, using all his strength to try and get away, to help you, get you out of the war zone and to help, but the weight of the hands around him are too much. They pull and grasp and voices moan in agony behind him.

They pull him away from you.

“LOGAN! WAKE UP!”

Then his eyes are open, claws out and he’s scanning his dark bedroom for the danger, the danger he knows has to be there because why else would he be so fucking scared? But then he turns and he sees you, standing in the corner with your arms crossed over yourself and and he thinks back to the scene in his head where you were dying and Logan almost runs to you- but when he moves, he sees you flinch.

There is a long, long moment where the only thing breaking the silence were your ragged breaths and the pounding of blood in his ears, eyes inter looked in mutual fear. Logan looked at you like you were a spooked deer, even though it was him that felt an unyielding terror inside. You stood in PJ’s, and as his eyes adjusted he took in the new side of you, clothing revealing more than skin you didn’t show. You slept in a dress. Not pants and a top, not a dress meaning lingerie or something cute. Logan thinks for a moment of those outfits worn on the Amazonian Islands in the 70’s Wonder Woman show, how it was just lingerie. No, nothing like that. You just wore a dress, something akin to what he’d seen women wear more than 100 years ago, something a grandma would wear now, a skirt that went to the mid-shin.

Even in the privacy of your own bedroom, you weren’t free from the rhetoric. He bet you wore cotton panties.

You were the first to speak, voice soft and careful as if you weren’t the one shaking. “Are you… okay?”

You, sweet beautiful you, were concerned about him. He’d had a nightmare, because of course he had, of course he could never be free from all the before… but he was okay. 

“Yeah, I uh…” Logan ran a finger over his face, shaking off the tremors. “Nightmare.”

A little nod from your head, then your voice, barely audible. “I get them too.”

Of course you did. Of course a sweet wonderful little doll like you was plagued like this. 

Logan relaxes, shoulders slumping and he slides his legs over the side of the bed before burying his face in his hands. “I’ll kill him, you know.” He mumbles. “Just tell me anything, anything about him and I can track him down. Anything about you.”

The name you used wasn’t a real name. You’d chosen from some woman in the bible you admired, a jewish woman who used her beauty to seduce an enemy and slayed him. Judith was the subject of two Artemisia Gentileschi paintings, hence his familiarity. Logan wasn’t an art guy, but being the history teacher he’d had to brush up on his renaissance art. Your last name was fake too, something you and Charles drummed up and probably had some other religious significance, although he wasn’t religious enough to know. Maybe he’d ask Kurt. 

It’d all been faked and slapped on some ID’s no one would ever be able to tell weren’t real. Your new identity was sealed. Even if you left the school, you could go on. Charles had even faked an education degree and high school diploma when you promised to not use it to do anything you weren’t qualified for. Charles didn’t want you to be trapped at the school, and since the school had been your only option at the time, you’d been given a freedom to leave. This was more than your husband had ever done, keeping you trapped and helpless, not even knowing how to drive. 

All he needed was your real name, and he could track your husband down and bring his head on a platter like John the Baptist. Was that a Gentileschi painting, or was that Caravagio?

“I know.” Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts like you had done with his nightmare. “Which is why I won’t tell you.”

When Logan looks up, he sees you still standing so far away from him, and chuckles dryly. “You scared of me now, doll face?”

You shake your head no, but it’s not as confident as he’d have liked.

“I’m in my pajamas. You’re shirtless in shorts. There’s a bed.”

His eyebrows rose at that. “You think I’d do something to you?”

This time, when you shake your head, it’s much firmer. “No. Absolutely not. It’s just… I was always taught to never be in a man’s bedroom… or I might bring something on myself, or it would lead me to sin, or, or there’s something about the appearance of sin… I dunno, it’s just considered improper.”

He let the words settle into his skin. Sometimes, loving you was like the women he’d loved, bedded, courted so long ago. Such a different time, a different world. Yet you were still so different. Back then, women were just waiting for someone to untether them, give them an out, run away. They craved that freedom, the liberty sex brings. Logan didn’t know what you craved. There was nothing inside you that said you wanted to scream, to be unhinged, to let go. You weren’t a bubble waiting to pop, you were simply happy to be as you were, dresses and all.

“I understand, Dolly. Thank you for uh, for waking me. But you should really just let me be, next time.” Flashes of Rogue all bloodied in his arms flattered across Logan’s memory. Kayla, scratched up before his bones became the weapon they are now.  “I might accidentally hurt you.”

Something he doesn’t recognize flashes on your face before you give a little nod. “Are you alright? I can go make you some tea?”

Part of Logan wanted to say yes, because he loved when you made him tea, but you looked tired. “No, thank you doll. I’m alright. Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting weird.”

“Thanks kinda my thing, isn’t it?” You smile just a little, making a bit of a face as you walk sideways towards the door. “Little homeschooled teen marriage weirdo?”

Logan’s eyes narrowed at your weird behavior, not turning your back to him, but he decided he didn’t need to question your every move.

“You’re not a weirdo. You’re one of the coolest people I know.”

You laugh at that, eyes bright as always, and slide out the door.

After

You scream. And scream. And scream, over and over again. There’s blood everywhere. Logan tore everyone you loved apart; your students, your fellow teachers, Scott, Jean, Kurt, Emma, Charles. Every single one was hacked to pieces. Logan pinned you to the ground, pounding into your cunt as if you were just a lifeless doll. You didn’t fight. You didn’t scream. Were you screaming before? You can’t remember now.

Lifeless you lay, head lulled to the side as Logan fucked you. There was blood coming out of your cunt, but you didn’t know how you knew that. Spread and prone and stretched you took what Logan gave you, his soft words grunting in your ear.

“Isn’t this better, doll? Not fighting? See, I can make it good for you. I can make you wet. You’re so wet for me, my little submissive dolly.” It wasn’t blood between your legs anymore, it was cum as an uncomfortable orgasm swelled through your body. Still, ever so still, you never moved. Remy lay next to you, unrecognizable outside of intuition as he’s just a pile of slashed flesh now.

“My perfect, lifeless doll.” You’re pliant in his hands.

Suddenly Scott is in front of you, a bodiless head , eyes gouged out of his face, nothing but bloody pits. Still he speaks.

“You did this.”

No. No you’d never-

“You’re dangerous. Violence follows you. You’re a grenade.”

It wasn’t you! It was Logan!

“It hasn’t always been Logan. But it’s always been you. You are the common denominator.”

You blink and it’s no longer the friends and family and children of your new life. It’s your mom and dad, siblings, in laws, everyone who meant something to you before. 

It’s your husband between your legs now, and you think there is nothing possible worse than this, nothing could be worse than him being back. Everything you went through, it’s never going to end. You’re dying. Maybe you’re dead because you’re watching from above now, your body on the ground and cold.

Your husband strokes your lifeless, compliant form. “The perfect wife.”

You’re back in your body, your mother lying next to you now. “Why couldn’t you just be good?”

You wake up to Remy shaking you.

His voice is an immediate calm, a recognition that he isn’t dead, he’s not a mass of gore on the floor while you’re being raped, killed for something you’ve done that you didn’t even know what. He’s alive.

“Remy!” You grab his shirt, pulling him to you and you don’t care that he’s a man half on your bed. He’s alive. Remy has often woken you from nightmares, his room right next to yours. Remy was closer, but Logan could hear you from further. Still, Remy was a light sleeper, so he usually got to you before Logan was aware.

Once you let go, Remy took several steps back, right up against the wall. This was something Remy did to prevent further anxiety. You trusted Remy fully, you never got an inkling that he wanted to fuck you or was playing the long game, just that he wanted to help you.

“They are getting worse again, pistache. It’s more often than when you first came here.”

You pull your blanket close to your chest even though you were fully covered. Remy slept in boxers, but he wore a robe around himself, something he bought after the first time he helped you through a nightmare. He came in in just his underwear and you were only three days into joining the school. Needless to say, seeing a man almost naked had scared the ever living hell out of you, so Remy bought a robe to cover up without having to waste time dressing. He was thoughtful like that. 

“I know, I know. I just… stress… I got the prom coming up, been a lot.”

Remy frowned, “Planning a high school dance shouldn’t trigger nightmares. Is this because of what happened at the ball?”

You wince. That memory was a lot, something that you didn’t like to think about. You doubted Scott did either, and if his jaw was ever the same. 

You took to long to answer, looking down at your blanket, so Remy continued. “I know that you and Logan have had… a falling out.” Your heart clenches at the words, heat flushing over your skin. Your blanket hid what you had been under loose clothing; a bump. You tuck your knees up so the blanket downs fall over your stomach. “I think he can fix it. You and him… well, I thought you’d get along before you ever met him. I brought your down stairs that first day because I’d seen him walking in, sent him to the store with you, sent him to have lunch… I think you two suit each other.” Remy gives you a smile. “You soften him. He protects you. It’s good for you both. Whatever it is, I think you can fix it. That’s all I’ll say.”

Remy stayed true to his word, not continuing about it… but you couldn’t help thinking how horrified he’d be if he found out what Logan did to you. He’s still gone, coming back any day now. Remy thought you softened him, and you suppose you did. For a while. 

You let Remy get you a snack, a little sweet treat to get the sick taste out of your mouth and cheer you up. He was kind, attentive, but the memory of him as nothing but a pile of slosh haunted you. Logan was dangerous. You were already worried about Scott prying where he didn’t need to, worrying about him getting himself killed, but now you think about Remy. What will he do when he learned Logan raped a baby into you?

Logan returns to his dolly next chapter! Next chapter we have 2 dances. Past, a ball Dolly put on because of the pride and prejuduce unit for her lit class, and presant she put on a sort of prom for the teenagers.

That chapter is where we get another HUGE chunk of dolly's past! the final bombwill be nearer to the end. I'd LOVE to hear your thoughts on what you think dollys secrets are!!! There was a hint this chapter!

Ideas for a poll is always welcome! as are songs for the playlist

I need to make a better cover pic now that ive gotten a feel for the series and its themes

If you've read Rooms on Fire or The Wrong Way, you know I tend to write a similar type for these dark series. Dolly, Little one and Madonna are all girly, quieter, feminine, submissive types. I hope that those whove read it all, because i know some people have read most things i put out, don find dolly boring. I think all three are unique in their own ways, and Dolly has her own things too, even if she's quiet and nervous

I love all yall and am so thankful for the support ive gotten here!!!!!

please remember, comments keep me writing. It doesnt have to be a compiment, just something that shows engagment like "remy is a good friend"

@multiversed-daydreamer @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @hindi-si-ikay @samsamsantos @madamerubrum @shybluebirdninja a @hornystan @rogueinmymind @accountforreading123 @yawnetu @princessanglophile @and-claudia @new-genesis1000 @teaganthemorningstar @oldloganslittleslut @zaggprincess2 @bugsinmyeyez @groundclueless @cosmolight

[b0nelessdoodles]

Art Summary 2023

shoutout to the one month were i drew fanart and then everything else was just dnd content again lmao (also shoutout to me being late to posting this haaaaa)

2023 wasn't the best year for me personally. between money problems and job searching, health issues, mental health issues, unintentional discomfort at my new job, and the overall issues of the world it just hasn't been great and I felt it heavily in my creativity. I never really had any creative highs this year outside of artfight (and even then i felt like i didn't do well) which only fed into some of the issues I was having.

But looking back I am really happy with most of what I made! Sure I didn't draw much but hey I think I popped off when I did!

So here is to 2024! Already off to a good start in the art department and even if I slow down at least I've had fun so far!

(i was gonna put me gushing about things in tags but its a lot so i'm doing a read more this post is already so damn long lmao i'm sorry)

okay i'm here to gush about two pieces at a time and their contents cause then make me happy to look at so lets get started on that with march and september 'cause hey! look at the relationship development of my little goblin guy!

march was when kk (tic's best friend and now boyfriend) first appeared to the rest of the party outside of just tic talking about him. literally the entire party could see that kk was in love with tic and was just like "oh buddy sorry about that" 'cause tic was a dumbass and romance was just never something he thought about until meeting the party. then we flash forward to september where the two confessed to each other after what really felt like the end of tic's story arc. at least it felt that way to me 'cause he reached his goal of killing groll and becoming the king of goblins but i know he still has shit to do I'M LOOKING AT YOU TRAVELLER AND RIP! but yeah that was the whole reason he left and it was done. he did it! but it almost cost him kk and the two ended up having a really important talk about it. kk chewed tic out and spilled his guts and i still think about it a lot holy shit it was so good omfg but it was in that moment that it clicked for tic. that if he had actually lost kk he had no idea what he would do, that he felt like his whole life would fall apart without him. and just man it was good wholesome content. congrats to the goblins for being the first canon relationship! (even tho they were not the first confession that one goes to rhami!)

now that that block of the text is out of the way we get to more depressing ones, those being january and october with my guy, dr. cecil wilfree.

its just.... man. what do i even say about him. january was probably the last moment before his life went into a full downward spiral, eventually leading into his demise. that piece isn't even anything major but rather something like a reminder going "hey, remember when wilfree had two normal eyes? good times!" and just man (-insert that image of a horse standing on the beach-) compare that to where he's at in october and knowing what happened in those 10 months? january he still had trust and hope, he believed that he was going to get back home and help river out with his plague, maybe even get aster home if she'd let them, maybe find a way to cure himself and help casey. but by the end there was no hope and he found out that he had been used, was nothing more than a tool for someone who he trusted, despite knowing that he really shouldn't have. river was dead and it was his fault (at least in his mind it was), he had failed to protect aster and traumatized both her and willow, and he could do nothing to save an entire population from being wiped off the face of the map. and he caved under the guilt. he gave up. its sad to see him alive and pissy in january and then look at december and see a shell of the same man, no more thoughts in that head as his mind got disconnected from his body and self.

and then for extra sads we've got december which was his birth month, so i drew something from a time before the campaign. back when he was alive and well, no soul curse and unknowing of the horrors yet to come, and receiving a gift from someone whose life he could soon destroy due to his own hubris.

anyway! pay no mind to may! i didn't draw a damn thing that whole month!