#for using their innate powers
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oracleofdiscord · 5 months ago
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#holy shit this is like. such a good thing to point out
#bc we NEVER FIXED THE WIZARD PROBLEMS#WE FIXED ADAINES PROBLEM
#SHE GOT RICH AGAIN#BUT WE LEFT THE SYSTEM INTACT!!
(tags via @kipperlillyforpresident)
#i do get the canon though like even though it was supposed to be a bit i think about
#the girls in my hs spanish class who were from DR and spoke spanish every day w each other and at home
#and they weren’t great at spanish class! bc it was hard for them to articulate Why they were saying what they were saying
#it just made sense to them
#so i can definitely see jace being like i Know magic and i know that i’m good at it. but when you ask me to put down on paper how to cast
#a spell i can’t just put it into words. i just Do it
(tags via @t4tozier)
i guess it’s supposed to be canon that jace failed taking levels in wizard because it was too much work or he’s just not smart, which is fine i guess, haha very funny but have we considered the narrative parallels if it was actually because jace was (and still is, on a teacher’s salary? lbr) a broke bitch who couldn’t afford barrels of diamonds much like adaine??? have we considered that jace is a struggling artist turned grade school teacher because he didn’t have the money to invest in higher education? this man took online courses at his local community college and still somehow is buried under student loans. of course he went evil.
#i also want to add my own personal thoughts to this#that are maybe a bit less interesting than the other things shared but#from a mechanical standpoint wizard and sorcerer don't mesh that well.#they delay the ability to learn higher level spells. and they use different ability scores#so to cast a spell with either charisma or intelligence i think you would have to learn it twice#and i was thinking about how that would translate in-universe#and i feel like maybe wizard casting and sorcerer casting are just completely antithetical ways of working with magic#sorcerer casting is getting in touch with your own emotions and feeling your internal magic flow through you and altering it on the fly#whereas wizardry is for people who don't have internal magic they can naturally manipulate so it involves drawing on external magic sources#and rote memorization to do things the same way each time to guarantee results#so a sorcerer trying to take a level of wizard would be learning magic in a way that fundamentally isn't *at all* helpful#for using their innate powers#and taking the time to learn this completely different system is actually going to hurt their innate magic#because when you get used to rote casting with pre-written spell formulas it's actually harder to on-command feel the emotions you need#in order to power your innate magic#and shape it for yourself#kind of like playing by ear vs using sheet music#i learned to play the violin by ear and when i tried to use sheet music i really struggled#and despite a few instances of taking some time to try and learn#it never really helped me improve my playing to try and sit down and pick out the notes from the sheet#when i could find them instinctively if i could just hear them once#and so when i had a violin teacher who gave me sheet music i eventually resorted to getting her or my dad#to play the piece for me. and then learning it from there#i don't think i ever told her i couldn't read sheet music. because i was embarrassed#but i could still play the violin fine when i practiced regularly.#just. a different way. that the sheet music didn't really help me with.#even though being able to read sheet music is of course the expected standard for most musicians
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*tries to organize my thoughts*
*remembers i'm not in school and therefore beholden to neither heaven nor hell nor any man's grading system*
*joyously shredding & tossing all my carefully arranged 3x5 mental notecards into the air like so much beige confetti. raising my arms in victory, cheering raucously until i accidentally inhale bits of homemade confetti*
(*coughing up itty bits of paper like a cat evicting a hairball with a firm understanding of tenants' rights*) wait wat happens next
#i marie kondoed my thoughts and *i* feel great. but now my stream-of-consciousness has escaped containment#so many innocent bystanders at stake#every time i try to organize my thoughts i run out of plastic bins and have to make a trip to the container store where i get even more dis#racted so. you can't just hand me THIS brain and NO catalogue OR library classification system#and expect me to single-handedly sort through all this nonsense? bad form but fucking form not in my job description#aNYways. formal education sure did a FUCKING NUMBER on us huh#(a number i measure not in gpa or dollars of student debt.#but in the number of therapy sessions & medical debt it will take to recover.)#seriously folks. our education systems are...innately traumatizing for a huge number of students. and we NEED to address this.#the fact that it is culturally common for adults to have anxiety nightmares about school/exams...even decades later?#that is not cute. it is Alarming.#no one--much less entire generations--should be spending their developmental years in an environment of chronic stress & pressure & strain#and yet that is the reality for millions and millions of pre-teen and teenage and young adult students#this isn't healthy and it serves and empowers NO ONE#...except of course the many exploitative educational & financial & debt-collecting institutions thriving from the current balance of power#and of course it's a nefarious and powerful way to sabotage/erase the middle class#which billionaires and the wealth-inequality creators they finance couldn't possibly have any noteworthy interest in whatsoever#it's not like there's an elite group of people with huge financial incentives to drain/steal resources from the masses...#anyways sorry for going all Conspiracy Theory on you.#obviously the billionaires who control the vast majority of our resources and news and political campaign funding#are not tied to every single itty bitty social issue and i'm a silly billy to imply it#please tell elon musk to ignore this tweet i am so subservient and acquiescent#mr musky u r so good at inheriting slavery-built mining fortunes & buying other people's companies#& building rocket ships & fancy cars that do NOT explode/catch fire & also NOT running billion dollar companies into the ground#mr musky u r so talented genius billionaire playboy with 10 kids and ex-wives who find you creepy af babe u r basically iron man
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swordmaid · 11 months ago
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shri’iia mood board
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musubiki · 5 months ago
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Hey I was looking thru the coco tag and remembered the comic abt Taffy trying to buy a potion from the Merchant to "cure his problem" but it ended up not being anything (as far as Taffy knows anyway). The Merchant said it was an "unbonding potion," but did it have any 'effect' in general, or was he truly just bs-ing Taffy? I'd almost think the latter if we didn't already know that the Merchant—shifty and strange as he is—does indeed sell reliable items (albeit with a rather cunning monopoly). So I was wondering if it meant something else that Taffy needing to "unbond" from.......like maybe.......a curse.....? Perhaps 🤣
he actually wasnt bs-ing taffy!!!!
for context: one of the merchants favorite lines (to the point that lime makes fun of him about it) is "I'm not a doctor" (sometimes with a "Or a therapist" added in if the issue sounds psychological) !! and what he means is basically this: the merchant, though he probably knows what's wrong with you, wont TELL you what's wrong with you to sell the accurate treatment. you have to go to him and say "I think it might be [thing]" and he goes "Okay! I have something that fixes [thing]!"
i believe the idea behind it is that if he tells you whats' wrong with you and then sells you the thing that fixes it, he makes less money than if he DOESN'T tell you and you have to keep coming back trying a bunch of different things via trial and error
so in taffys case, he waited for taffy to say "I think I need an unbonding potion" so he could say "Okay! Here's an unbonding potion!" even though he knew already what was going on (LOL). so the potion was legit!! Its just that taffy wasnt under any kind of bonding spell so nothing happened!!
the curse in him is a lot more complex to get rid of than a simple unbonding potion. im still working on the lore surrounding true "curses", but its either that only the main 5 can put curses, or only the main 5 can remove them, its a special and powerful kind of magic that you cant just go to your average witch to get one done and removed
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mirakurutaimu · 1 year ago
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Favorite d&d class (or if you prefer a different system, favorite class from that)?
my most-played class in 5E is Variant Fighter, a homebrew version of Fighter that moves maneuvers from Battle Master and makes them a base-class feature. it's super fun and effective, letting one do flavorful multiclasses without taking too much of a hit to effectiveness (especially nice if you're playing with turbogamers minmaxing for combat encounters). besides that I'm also a big fan of Lore Mastery wizard, because my favorite ttrpg character i've ever played was one. here is them, Cammy (girl, living car battery, chief stick carrier) & Maximus (the stick, world's dickheadest wizard, probably a bad guy)
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goldensunset · 1 month ago
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took a break from dying badly in unova (gen 5) to go and die badly in unova (gen 9)
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izzyspussy · 2 months ago
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why are they laughing at him as he gets straight up killed??? he doesn't deserve this! he's a sweet kid at heart! he literally just needs one (1) real friend!!
#jack facts#willow and xander and tara all got that exact type of chance and you could argue the same is true for cordelia and anya!#and why don't we just not even start in on angel#like jonathan went from attempted suicide to so grateful for one moment of attention he created a whole award to give about it#to IN ONE YEAR becoming so powerful a witch he seamlessly altered the perception of the entire population of the world#without any adverse effects to himself and only the one (1) flaw that is inherent to the spell he used#to all but instantly giving up that power when he realized it posed danger (that he understood) to people#to feeling genuine remorse for doing that even tho he needed it explained to him why they were so upset#and making every apparent effort to learn that with humility and offer whatever wisdom he could in return#to... this.#like why tf didn't anybody say hey man are you doing alright after being suicidal?#hey man the spell you did was wrong but that doesn't mean you can't do magic anymore why don't we meet up sometimes and study together#or better yet he could have mcfuckin joined the coven god damn#like they went from witch being a relatively gender neutral combo of innate talent and learned skill in early seasons#to now we're supposed to forget the boy willow and amy did spells with in hs + the fact that giles himself was in an all male coven#and even believe that only Special Girls like willow and tara can do any significant amount of real magic at all#why on earth is willow the biggest witch of ever and started out floating pencils and then having a whole plotline#about learning to use her power ethically and control herself and practice temperance and etc#AND anya gets to be a good guy even though she has to be taught about ethics and consent and compassion and all that too#but jonathan's thing is being soul crushingly lonely and having no self esteem but being incredibly sweet once given the time of day#and is instead relegated to two bit loser villain?#why because he's the Actually Uncool type of unpopular instead of the Too Smart And Nice To Be Popular type of unpopular?#makes me sick he literally just needs a friend. just one genuine friend who cares about him personally. that's all.#and it's not like they're doing a ''this is what happens to vulnerable kids when no one cares about them!'' thing which would be different#no they're just like lol he's unpopular like our protags but he's also short with a nasally voice! which means he's bad!#once again i swearrrrr i'm not doing armchair psych on a creator based on the content of their work#please i swearrrrrrrrrrrr i'm not doing that i prommy i know it doesn't work that wayyy i knowwwww#don't worry about ittt i'm so totally definitely not doing that at allllll#anyway
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musepondersthings · 2 months ago
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Still holding out hope Gojo comes home
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silentwalrus1 · 2 years ago
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i was rereading 99% snipers, & the scene of Ed explaining that turning lead to god won’t get you in trouble, more so a position in the military (very simplified and shortened to fit in this askbox, but all the nuances were fantastic when pointed out) and it inspired me to think and flesh out further the structure and interpretation of the knight system on hyrule before the calamity and how that changes after. Basically your way of fledging out social and political climate is done very well!!
Yeah like I imagine if you have a wizard, you as a govt have more incentive to put a leash on it than throwing them down a dark hole. Ofc, sometimes the leash IS throwing you down a dark hole - see FMA Kimblee - but that’s basically just sticking him in the freezer until you have a use for him again
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soft-serve-soymilk · 5 months ago
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More random head children musings (aside from the really sad one because that deserves better than a throwaway post):
Honestly I think it’s very fortunate that Dism’s team isn’t *entirely* comprised of lucid dreamers.
#just pav things#they’re teenagers that haven’t lived with using their powers their whole lives. they have no innate control over it#They’re FAR more likely to push themselves psychologically because of their emotional issues#And they don’t know when too far is. So they face their punishments for overtaxing themselves as a result ✨#And like. Dism wants to play hero and be the MOST useful so he overcompensates and takes on too much#Doesn’t delegate tasks/responsibility in battle to anyone else at all#And because he’s wielding that persona Inigo also overcompensates because he doesn’t want Dism to get injured#something something lingering thoughts of Archie y’know ✨#And the poor coordination that Dism and Inigo both have in Arcs 1-3.5 means Idyllia#who secretly feels she’s done a terrible job of protecting the people she cares about her whole life#then uses her healing powers to an unnecessarily high degree#because there is one borderline-suicidal not-even-dodge-tanking-as-supposed-to idiot and#trying-to-fulfill-a-misguided-social-agenda idiot 🌈#What are the ultimate results of this?#Well you have ~75% of the party who are barely holding onto this plane of existence#Dism who can barely walk or speak because he can’t *time* any movements of his body correctly#Idyllia who’s left generally shaky weak and extremely fatigued— her life and vitality disappearing into vapid traces#And Inigo who loses his senses and any bearing on reality at all. Even the most basic tasks unintuitive to him#The chances of a TPKO would be absolutely certain if not for Cynthia being able to nurse and protect them while they’re recovering 😭❤️#Honestly they are coasting by on a LOT of luck and it shows#If the end of Arc 2 was any indication…..#They do get better though <3#And that’s how they manage to pull off the successful rescue operations for Idyllia and Archie later :D We love some good teamwork :)#Now you may be thinking— how does this same concept pertain to Archie’s kids?#Theon exhibits the same symptoms as Inigo… or that’s what I would say#He’s so scared of repeating history’s mistakes that he only uses his intuition for guiding his aim and not anything like#scanning for weaknesses or seeing the future. ESPECIALLY THE LATTER#So Theon actually doesn’t tax himself much at all#Consequences for Ewan include a sheer rejection of rationality and logic and positivity#Too much light is blinding! Leaving him blind to everything but his baser impulses
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restrainedhungr · 9 months ago
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lowkey i really wanna do more with Briar's feral frenzy side
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termagax · 6 months ago
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i dont knowwwwwwwwwww i just. my thing is that i think the changelings could have an interesting place in the narrative given jims whole conflict is about trying to navigate his place in two worlds neither of which he completely fits in but both of which he needs to be his complete and authentic self. but they shoot themselves in the foot by making strickler the main one and they get sooooo close to doing this with nomura before getting bored and doing it again but worse with strickler. so in my mind i think this is why i was so set on addy being a changeling because i want her to fill that narrative role of someone who's ACTUALLY chill about this dichotomy and who really loves this part of herself without the baggage inherent to nomnoms situation (not acknowledging strickler he did most of that to himself). i just think he needs someone who can show him that its actually genuinely very possible to have both halves of his heart especially post-potion. but man. you cant really get there without dancing around the janus order stuff. and i know if she was real it would just be a cheap lampshade like "welllll shes a polymorph so. no familiar no problem" but that opens up a can of worms that i feel responsible for. and just in general the entire thing has so much baggage. i wish this show was GOOD.
#like i like the concept that the changelings were troll babies tortured with dark magic i think for me it justifies arrghs fondness for her#because hes in an extremely similar situation and i think him watching it happen under his command would be enough for him to say hm. i can#do this anymore goodbye. and i like those kinds of dynamics a lot#so i feel like you can just take that aspect and run with it#instead of the familiars give them some sort or mild innate mental magic? so they can write their identities into peoples lives#so you can still get that sense of like. an invader where its not supposed to be#without having to touch goblin baby kidnapping#'but that ruins the whole plot with claire' idgaf figure it out. i would do somwthing wlse with that anyways#they retroactively imply claires magic is innate later on in wizards anyways#so if youre gonna do that just make her brother also have it in some way which would make him a valuable asset if noticed by someone like#strickler. make it smt with the bridge or some other thing where they neeeeeeeed a magic user and itd be too risky to like. kidnap a studen#so they cant take claire. or nobodys noticed she has powers yet#make it so the baby goes missing and nobody seems to remember him at all EXCEPT claire#bcz strickler mind powers. which tangent but u can also use later for his thing w jims mom#and makes the whole 'we have to erase her memories of him' less convoluted bullshit#anyways back on track. just have the baby at the bridge ceremony for magic power reasons and in the conflict smth grabs him and takes him#thru the portal in the hopes of opening the bridge frm the other side#anyways.tthey had options is all im saying and they chose to do it in the worst way possible#just scrap the janus order im not touching that#it was so fucking pointless anyways. they didnt DO anything not one single thing
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listen-to-the-inner-walrus · 7 months ago
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#still not over the insane george orwell post that got reblogged onto my dash yesterday#i unfollowed the person who reblogged it#because either A) theyre a tankie or B) their criticial thinking skills are sub-fucking-zero#like 1) the OP of that post was just copying Hakims awful video on Orwell#2) to read animal farm and come out of it with the interpretation that Orwell was saying that the animals and hence the proletariat in the#USSR were just innately unintelligent shows a reading comprehension so bad its not even like piss poor. its piss impoverished#3) if a post is like ''also look X said Y Bad Thing'' without providing any of the context as to where that quote comes from theyre likely#being deliberately mishonest. it is easy to take someone out if context to make it look like they were saying something they werent which is#exactly what the OP of that post was doing. they took one sentence of Orwells writing on the nazis and Hitler to make it look like Orwell#thought Hitler was a swell guy when actually Orwells writing was about the dangers of charismatic tyrants like Hitler and their rhetoric#the entire thing was about how Hitler was able to amass such power and popularity and use that to his advantage#not every despot is so easy to pick out as dangerous or so easy to detest. hitler was hardly the first charismatic tyrant in history#OP also conveniently left out the fact that like the next sentence is orwell being like yeah no i would fucking kill this man which wow#thats a glaring omission. imagine if people decided to look up what OP was refetencing to verify irs veracity#4) OP does not mention that Orwell fought in La Guerra Civil alongside communists and socialists and anarchists etc.#he fought against the nationalists. he took a bullet to the neck during the fight. he was very much against francisco franco and his fascist#regime who were allied with Hitler and the Nazis#mentioning orwells participation in the spanish civil war really undercuts any of those arguments#5) you know who was actually allied with Hitler and Nazi Germany? STALIN#at the beginning of WWII the soviet union and nazi germany were in alliance. stalin and hitler did not have fundamental ideological#differences. if hitler had not betrayed stalin the soviet union would not have joined the allied powers#your uwu anti-fascist communist idol joseph fucking stalin was joseph fucking stalin. he was a fascist dictator whose actions deliberately#caused the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people. he like vladimir lenin before him did not care for the ideals of marx#marxism leninism is a meaningless political ideology#the soviet union was not a communist paradise. neither stalin not lenin cared about the proletariat#i said this in my tag ramble yesterday but if you want to see a leader who actually followed marxist ideals go look up thomas sankara#im just rambling in the tags today to get out the lingering frustration i have
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true-blue-sonic · 1 year ago
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I wonder how Silver's portals work with Sonic Colors and Team Sonic Racing? He's not really stopping anything in either appearance and in TSR he accepts an invitation so did a portal take him or did the invitation somehow take him?
This is definitely part of the issue I have with this portals suddenly being brought up as The Way used by Silver to time travel: if they exist to bring him to the past when something there threatens the future, how does it work with all the times he pops up when the future is not in danger? Also in all the Riders games he's just there, futuristic Extreme Gear in hand and absolutely nothing seemingly being amiss. It's definitely one of the reasons why I will only consider the portals canon when they get shown within the games itself, and then preferably with more explanation as to how they work and who or what creates them.
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garbagequeer · 2 years ago
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it always rubs me the wrong way when people try to counter the supposed underlying logic to homophobic and transphobic thinking with ideas about the innateness of lgbt desire and identity. like things like ensuring people that there being more openly lgbt people wont “make kids gay” or whatever it might only make the already gay ones more comfortable which imo goes in the direction of 2 basic lines of argument: 1 that being lgbt is not a choice and 2 that being lgbt is not contagious. but tbh a lot of human identity and desire is based on the desire to be “like” somebody else or on the knowledge of a preexisting model to structure the capacity for desire by seeing the way other people structure desire and not this theoretical innate pool of fully formed truly individual desires that just so happen to coincide with those of groups of people living in a certain place at a certain time. like i want to call back to some lesbian pamphlet from like the 80s that was like a lesbian q&a where the hypothetical question was “is being gay a choice?” and the answer was something like “who cares if it is”. 
like to me theres also something of an apology in saying dont worry we cant make more lgbt people all lgbt people are lgbt no matter what from birth and that is why you have to tolerate them (and therefore if someone isnt understood as innately lgbt this opens a way for violence bc the premise is that you have to forgive us for what we cant help basically). i mean in a path to end cisheteropatriarchy there will be more lgbt people as it advances because the hegemonic models of desire will be questioned and changed and that is part of liberation. you can say they were simply always there but all closeted but the thing is thats not something you can back up + who cares if it is a choice (it’d be a good and legitimate choice!). also the fact that it is not a legitimate or even real worry of homophobes and transphobes that there will be “more” lgbt people cause they’re concerned there are ANY lgbt people. so why engage in something so rigged to move the goal post from “queer is good + queer is something we want” to “queer is + queer is something we accept” which is closer to “queer is, unfortunately + queer is something we’re trying to help”
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eupheme · 3 months ago
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— tooth and nail
alpha!logan x mutant!f!reader
rated e - 4k
tags: dub-con (logan goes into a rut), a/b/o-lite elements (logan-only - ruts/knots/mates), breeding kink, mutual pining, two jealous dummies, size kink, fighting as foreplay, return of The Claws (claw-play?), outercourse, biting, marking, come play, rough PiV sex 
a/n: pure pwp. reader has druidic-based mutant powers (wild shape, strong connection to nature/animals, influence over vines/foliage) and is from Earth-10005.
Logan knows this feeling. He thought he’d left this part of himself behind. Left on his Earth, carved out and buried with the rest. 
Should have told you no. Should have locked himself away like he always did. Instead, he’s stuck, unable to keep his mind from wandering while his sparring partner - sweat-dewed and squirming - is pinned beneath him. 
(Or - Logan’s rut begins at a most inopportune time)
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Something wasn’t right.
It’s been settling under his skin for days now.  Tiny hooked claws, digging into flesh. A syrupy urge low in his guts, his mind not quite his own.
He thought he’d left this part of himself behind. Left on his Earth, carved out and buried with the rest. 
The world he lives in now is different. There’s humans, mutants, aliens. But none like him, answering to something innate that defined him in a way that didn’t matter anymore.
It’s been a while. Almost forgot how it felt, after years of tamping down this part of him. Should have recognized sooner what it was. This rippling, simmering irritation just beneath his skin, so much stronger than usual. 
Should have locked himself away, when he realized his rut was returning.
In his years in his own Earth, the urge had lessened. Dulled by alcohol and grief. Managed by himself, in the few months this part of his nature did visit him.
But he hadn’t been able to tell you no. Hadn’t been able to resist, not when you smiled so prettily at him, practically begging him. 
And the thought of you leaving him behind at the X-Mansion, while you went off without him - to spar with Hank, instead - made him want to rip McCoy’s arms off. 
Desire swirls around him now, as he trades blows with you. Your arms snaking around his shoulders as you shoulder a well-placed hit, bringing you both down the floor.
Logan feels like a pup again, watching your breathless laugh. The clench of your thighs around his waist. The heady throb low in his guts, the pressure of his cock as it strains against his suit. 
His hips lift, separating him from you. Trying to form an excuse, while his brain is rocketing into overdrive.
Fighting back the urge to close that gap again. To peel down those tight leggings that drive him mad, bury his mouth against your pussy and make you scream. Fuck you full of him, until he’s dripping out of you for days. 
The though makes him growl, as he tries to concentrate.
Tough to fake an illness, or injury. You’d see right through him.
Or even worse, worry.
So all he had to do was finish out this session. 
Shouldn’t be too hard. 
If you can just avoid touching him… he might just make it through. 
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You know you shouldn’t let yourself get distracted like this while sparring with Logan, but you can’t seem to help it.
Not when you’ve been nursing this thing inside you for months now. Something planted from another earth, settling low in your chest. Infesting like the vines that sprout from you, taking over until you’re fully ensnared.
You’ve tried to ignore it. Didn’t want to ruin a good thing between you. 
Out of everyone in the X-Mansion, you got along with Logan the best. Used to a solitary lifestyle after being raised among the druids, before you knew the truth to what you were, the mutant lineage that flowed through you.
It had paired well with his temperament. His anger and grouchy quips slipped from you like raindrops on a leaf. Something about spending time with you softening him at the edges - just a little bit.
He was still the hard man he used to be. Grizzled, with that scowl of his and the flecks of grey at his temples.
And despite your efforts - forgetting and moving on hadn’t been successful. Not at all. 
Because it’s impossible to ignore when he’s close, like this. Pressing your back to the mat, your wrist slammed against the padded floor. A knife skittering away, because even after all this time - even with his insisting - you were still reluctant to use it.
It sends your pulse racing. He’s so fucking strong - and you think that maybe, even if you had been an equal pair, that you’d still throw these matches. 
Let him win, if it gets him like this. Sweaty and pressed up against you as you struggle beneath him. A thigh jammed between yours to prevent you from slamming your heel into his calf.
You’ll think about this later. 
You always do after your sparring sessions. You hand slipping between your thighs in the shower after. Bitten-back moans as you play out more in your mind - the plunge of your fingers inside your aching cunt until you’re shuddering with the pulsing pleasure, slumping back against the cold tile. 
The fantasies always comes back to him. 
You think that maybe Logan wants it too. Have felt his gaze on you when he thinks no one is looking, but your senses have always been keen. Animal attraction, perhaps. Pheromones. Something about his smell, his touch, beckons you - though you don’t understand what it means. 
And it’s only now that you realize he’s gone still above you. Eyes blown wide, a sharp breath of air inhaled through clenched teeth. A low growl, caught in his throat. 
Holding himself back. You can see it - the way his muscles string tight. How his eyes dip, flicking over your face. Down to the part of your lips. The sweat that dews your chest. 
Close enough that you can inhale him - the smell of leather and cigar smoke blending with more - something inside you giving them a name. 
Want. Need. 
It gives you courage. 
You bridge the gap, for a just a moment. A shallow lift of your hips. Encouraging, the movement pushing your tits against his heaving chest. 
“Bad fucking idea, sweetheart.” He growls.
It’s rough, low. Ground-out as if to himself, a wounded sound slipping from his throat. 
His response has a mark forming between your eyebrows. A soft murmuring of his name.
Logan’s face dips, eyes closing as he inhales. Then, without warning, his knuckles cradle against your throat. 
Wrist flexing as two of his claws spear forward on either side of your neck. Punching through the training mats and sinking deep into the concrete beneath.
Pinning you completely under him, your hips dropping as your free hand wraps around his forearm. A tug of fear ripples through you, but he doesn’t budge.
“Logan,” You repeat, gasping, “What are you doing? What’s wrong?
This isn’t like the times you’ve sparred before. He’s never drawn his claws. You don’t heal like he does - you both know it. Never using more than a loose fist, an open palm in your sessions. 
He’s breathing heavy. Holding himself over you, his other hand still wrapped firmly around your wrist. 
“I’m gonna let you go.” It comes out ragged, through clenched teeth.
“And then I need you to leave, and lock me in after.” Only now does he look at you - his dark eyes burning, “You understand?”
His voice is so rough that it makes your skin prickle. Heat licking down your spine, stoking the embers that have settled low in your belly. 
“I don’t.” It comes out hushed.
How can you? It’s like a flip has been switched, in those few moments. Did you truly misread everything? 
His eyes haven’t left your face. There a peek of his tongue against his lips, the words coming slowly, “Don’t wanna do something you’re gonna regret.”
And for a moment, time stands still. An ache in your chest that’s so different than the one between your thighs. Finger unfurling, reaching.
Slipping up his arm, touching his cheek. He flinches, eyes fluttering shut as he holds his breath. 
“What could I regret with you?”
If it were anyone else, the question would be stupid. You should be running from the man that has you pinned to the ground, claws drawn. Another twitch and you could be dead - the middle unsheathing to pierce clean through your soft throat.
“Whatever it is, let me help you.” Your voice is gentle - coaxing -  and for a second, he leans into the touch. Palm pressing against heated skin, and you gasp, “You’re burning up, Logan.”
“You can’t help me with this.” He rasps with his eyes closed, voice strained. 
Your head shakes, “Let me try.”
A long pause lingers. The room filled with the uneven intake of breath. Logan’s words coming slowly, as his eyes open - dropping down to your throat. And then away, like he can’t bear to even look at you, “Does the word rut mean anything to you?”
It feels like something stirs again inside you. The flutter of wings, not unlike the feeling when you tap into your power. Like threads slipping your fingertips, connecting you down to the earth below. 
“Animals have ruts. Deer, elk, creatures like that.” A beat, as you begin to understand. Heat flaring in your cheeks at the implication, “But, not… not humans.”
He grunts, shifting.
It takes everything not to let your chin tip down, to look. 
“They do where I come from.” 
Pieces start to fall in place. His increased irritability around you lately. Territorial. Aggressive. 
Blending in to what you know, in your connection to nature. Those animalistic instincts that linger in your blood long after you’ve shed your beast form. 
Desire. Mating. An urge to breed. 
Oh, fuck. 
You squirm and he makes a warning sound without thinking - a rough rumble from his chest. His weight shifting on top of you, still hovering.
“How do you handle it?” 
His eyes flicker up to yours, then away again. Jaw working, a breath before he answers, “Take care of it myself. Or, I’d find someone to work through it with me.”
Even as you’re scrambling to make sense of it, you understand his insinuation. It stuns you into silence. You cannot allow that. The thought sends your heart crashing into your guts. 
Your chin tips up, defiantly.
“Let me help you.” 
Those dark eyes narrow as they snap to your face. Your words softening, as your thumb sweeps across his skin, the scruff of his cheek.
“I want to help you.”
Logan laughs, the sound ragged. Showing the points of his canines with the shake of his head. 
“You don’t know what you’re asking.” His voice is smoky-low. Rough as it scrapes across your skin, leaving goosebumps, “You couldn’t take me.”
Your heart feels like it’s pounding in your throat. Heat licking down your spine, and surely he can feel it - the flutter beneath the press of his knuckles. 
“I can.” It comes out breathy. Insisting. 
His tongue brushes over his lips as they part. A tilt of his head as he lowers himself. His knee pressing against the meat of your thigh, nudging. Opening your legs up further. Spreading them wider. 
“I will ruin you.” 
It’s growled in your ear. Each word coming slowly, as he lets the hard curve of his cock grind against your core. His meaning unmistakable, his voice pitching down with a ragged groan. 
“I want you to ruin you. You understand?”
And, you do. It floods through you, sending your nerve endings alight. Imagining how he would handle you, take you. The space between your thighs throbs. 
His admission - the rasp of his words and the heavy nudge of him against you makes you do something very selfish. 
And very stupid. 
You’re just able to reach your thigh holster now, with this new angle. The quick fumble of your fingers to loosen the small dagger.
The metal side of his claw pressing into your skin as your head turns. Before he can move, a flick of your wrist sends it through the air.
Your aim is slightly off, but it does the job. Seating itself in the control box by the door, a sizzle as the wires are cut.
A metallic snick as the doors lock. The lights click off, plunging the room into darkness. The ground bathed only with the stripes of sun that stretch across the floor from the row of window along the wall.
Logan lets go of your wrist, but leaves you pinned. His fist curling in the strap of your tank, knuckles pressing against your throat as he yanks you forward.
“Why the fuck would you do that?” Logan snarls, “You want me to use you?”
His words make you whimper. A soft little whine that has his hips dropping further. An unconscious rut against your core, leg muscles flexing as you clench around nothing. 
You meet his second thrust, your body curving against his. Head tipping back as the seam of your leggings nudge against your clit.
“Fuck.” It almost sounds awed now, his words soft and slow, “You do, don’t you?”
Letting his full weight drop, as your hands grip onto his shoulders for purchase. You had thought you were pinned before, but he had still been using his knees, his elbows. Hovering, in an attempt to keep control.
Now, you can feel all of him, as his body maps against yours. Pulling a rough groan as his hips flex, grinding himself slowly against your core. 
“Logan, please.”
He growls. Fingers unfurling from your shirt. Ghosting down your side to fit against the curve of your hip. Biting into flesh with a bruising force, as his face buried in the crook of your neck. A hot exhale against your skin, as he pants - finding a rocking rhythm, as his body curls around yours. 
You can feel the way his muscles tense with each needy snap of his hips. The way each breath pitches into a near-silent whine, as he seeks friction. 
It’s not enough, as much as he wishes it was.
“I need-” Logan rasps, “Tell me to stop and I will.”
The hand on your hip snakes between you. Roughly tugging on the belt of his suit, until the clasp opens. All while murmuring assurances, half to himself.
“I’ll let you go. Work through it myself-”
That need he speaks of rolls off him in waves. Facial hair scraping against your cheek. The brush of his lips against your throat, just above the cool press of his claws.
“Don’t stop.” It’s easy to answer. Easy to lean into what he offers you, all those sweet promises wrapped in steel. 
The groan he makes is filthy, “Give me your hand.”
Your fingers unlatch from the vice-like hold on his suit. A broad hand wrapping around your wrist, as he tugs you where he needs you. The tips brushing heated skin, making you gasp. 
“Make a fist,” He rasps, “Fuck, that’s it.”
Lining himself up, pushing his bared cock into the circled grip of your fingers. Using you like a cheap imitation of what he craves, as his desire leaks from him. Slicking up your fingers, with each roll of his hips. 
He’s heavy in your hand. You can feel how your fingers stretch - flexing, opening, with each forward thrust. Barely able to circle around, fingers splitting when you reach his base. 
You can’t help but move with him. Hips rocking up, to match his messy rhythm. The knuckle of your thumb pressing against your seam, nudging at where you ache for him.
“I can smell you, sweetheart,” Logan moans, his nose dragging along the curve of your jaw. Lips parting so he can test his teeth against a spot under your ear, the pressure making you shiver, “Your pussy’s leaking, thinking about me.”
Your eyes flutter shut, as you whine. Squeezing his cock a little more tightly, wishing it was filling you instead just your fingers. 
“I’m right, aren’t I?” He husks, “You think you can take it?”
You want anything he’ll give you. And anything is better than the way he’s teasing you. Palm slick with his desire, your own soaking through the soft fabric of your leggings.
“I want it. Want your cock,” You breathe, “Want to fuck me, please-”
There’s a final jerk of his hips against you, his voice gruff as his thighs shift.
“Stay still then, sweetheart.”
There’s the sharp rasp of adamantium against stone as they withdraw from the floor. His knuckles easing carefully from your throat as he leans back. Eyes dropping down, considering.
Barely a heartbeat before there’s the kiss of metal against skin, as the edge of a claw hooks under your shirt. Your breath held as it slips up, between your breasts. 
A tug, and the fabric is shredding. Fibers splitting until the drag of the sharp tips, from belly to throat. Baring you, the air in the open room chilling your heated skin as you gasp.
Nipples already pebbled as his mouth descends. A needy moan loosening when he kisses at the curve of your tits, his tongue flattening across a tight peak. 
Your arms wrap around him, their duty forgotten. Distracting you as his claws shift down. Your breath catches, but then there’s the sound of them sheathing - slipping back under his skin. 
His hands finding the slice he made in the waistband, making short work of the rest himself. Ripping your leggings open - dragging your thighs over his as he leans back on his knees. 
And looking down, it’s only now that you can fully see him. The familiar, worn yellow suit that shows off how broad he is. Zipper yanked down at the crotch, his cock pulled through with his impatience.
Eyes widening, when you realize there’s more to him than you though. Hanging heavy between his thighs, pretty and flushed. A thickened bulge sitting where your fingers had split - what you had mistaken for his base. 
“Need to be inside you, sweetheart,” Logan’s hand already wrapping around his shaft, dragging the tip across your cunt, “Don’t make me waste a drop, alright?”
Fingers tugging the gusset of your panties to the side. Letting the tip slap against your clit. It glides against you, slipping against your combined arousal. Seeing how you flutter as you clench, your own need spiking.
“Logan,” You beg, “Stop teasing, please-”
He makes a rough sound. Almost a laugh, if it didn’t sound so pained. 
“Just listen to you. Begging like you’re in heat,” He grunts, “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need.”
The tip dips down, nudging at your entrance. Lining himself up, before his hips drive him forward. The sudden pressure chokes you - a bitten-back cry as your muscles string tight, thighs clamping down around his waist.
“Fuck, I’ve dreamed about this.” He growls. Spearing into you an inch at time with a long, fluid motion. Fingers biting into your thigh, holding you open as your own scrabble against the mat - searching for something to hold onto.
“Tugging down those leggings. Fucking you into the floor.”
You can barely contain the whine. Brow furrowed, as he splits you open. Your pussy making room for him until the swollen ring at his base cradles your entrance. 
Only able to inhale a short breath before he’s moving. Hands catching your legs, slipping to the joints of your knees where they press into his ribs.
Pushing your thighs back towards your chest, opening you up further, as his cock drags along your walls. He feels deeper, bigger - groaning at the way you clench so tightly around him.
Better than any of those daydreams, as he leans into you. Chasing that animalistic urge inside to bury himself fully in you, ensuring that you’ll take every drop.
Your fingers bite into his wrists. The breath pushed from you with each thrust, feeling like he’s deep in your belly, as that swell stretches at your opening.
“Thought about it too,” You admit with a gasp, as that heat inside you burns, “Wanted you, like this.”
“Yeah? I bet you did.” He grunts, as his thighs snap against your ass. Leaning over you now, eyes fixed on yours. Close enough that you can see the glaze to them, lost in his need for release. 
Before his eyes drag down. Seeing where you’re stretched around him. Another shallow nudge, urging himself deeper. His thumb pressing at your entrance, before slipping back to hook around the swell.
“Good girl like you’d take my knot too, wouldn’t you?”
His knot. Your head shakes. He barely fits at is. You can feel every ridge as he ruts into you, every thick vein, “I don’t think- Logan, that won’t fit-”
The thumb shifts up. Pleasure burning through as he rolls the pad across you clit. His brow pulled in concentration, but there’s a flesh of white teeth.
“Sure it will, baby.” It’s slick, how he touches you. His cock grinding again and again against a spot that steals your breath, “You were made to take it. We’ll make it fit.”
It makes you moan. Your fingers sliding into his hair tugging at him. He comes willingly, a soft sound as his mouth dips to press against yours. Turning hungry as your lips part. Rubbing at you as his tongue strokes against yours, deepening the kiss. 
The pleasure licks in your veins, a molten feeling building in your core. 
A rough murmur against your lips, “Tell me you want it. I’ll make you feel good, sweetheart.”
You parrot it back to him without thinking, hips chasing the press of his thumb. 
“I want it,” You keen, “Your k-knot.”
Willing to do just about anything he asks if he keeps touching you like this. If he keeps rutting against the spot that makes your arousal leak around his cock, each drive of his hips loud and messy in the quiet room. 
He groans, the hand at your thigh pinching, sure to leave bruises tomorrow. The fingers at your clit slipping up to splay across your abdomen, his palm hot again your skin. 
“Yeah?” Logan husks - pressing down, almost as if he can feel himself buried inside you, “Fuck, you’d look so good filled with my pups.”
His rhythm going sloppy, as a hand slips up to palm at your breasts, “These pretty tits nice and round. Wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you, baby.”
Some of his words are new to you, but your body still reacts to his tone. The need, the longing. An intrinsic understanding of what he wants, even if it’s impossible with your implant. It still doesn’t stop your hand from slipping down to replace his.
Of pretending, with him. 
The circles practiced, leaving him to concentrate on his own end. Soft panting cries pulling from you as the pounding of his hips drags you closer. 
He’s close, as well. Those sharp thrusts growing shallow, messy. Letting go of your thighs, letting them wrap around his waist as he drives you into the padded mats. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, lips pressing against your jaw. Tongue dipping out to drag against a spot on your neck that makes you go slack in his arms. 
“Should mate you,” He rasps. Teeth pinching down, where his tongue just was, “Bite you right here. Make you mine.”
The words tip you over the edge. A ragged gasp as your pussy clamps down around him, blood thundering in your ears. Nails catching on the panels of his suit as you cling to him, moans ripped from your throat as you pulse around him in time with your thudding heartbeat.
There’s no sharp bite of teeth. Just a muffled groan against your skin as he grasps at your hips. The sharp feeling of pressure increasing, as something thick works its way inside you. You keen as it stretches you, swelling so he can’t withdraw. 
Twin ragged moans, as you’re joined together. 
He comes with you squirming on his knot, his lips pressed against your throat. Sweet nothings murmured - “squeezing me so fucking tight, baby”, “gonna need you to take every drop, atta girl” - his cock throbbing as he spills inside you, pumping you full.
Still grinding into you. It draws your own orgasm out, with the way he’s rubbing against your walls, nothing left untouched. Overstimulation flickering at the corner of your mind, but you’re locked in place as he breeds you. 
Understanding what he meant by using you - you feel it now. Fucked out and boneless and it sends another gush of sticky need between your thighs. 
The sharp, panting breath starts to ebb. The ghost of his teeth becomes the nuzzle of his face, that strung-tight pull of his muscles turning liquid as he relaxes into your embrace. 
“Why were you so worried?”
It comes out hushed, in the now-silent room. You’re sore - will be, tomorrow. Pleasure-drunk certainly, but not quite as ruined as he promised. 
Almost to your disappointment. 
“That wasn’t too much.”
Logan laughs, the sound dripping with condescension. A flex of his hips, still knotted inside you. Cum leaking from your swollen pussy, smearing against your inner thighs.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He coos, “Ruts can last for days.”
His fingers drop, dragging through his spend. Finding your clit again, rubbing slick circles against the tight little bud. 
Intent on doing this one himself. 
“We’re only just getting started.”
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[moodboard] // I had two ideas for his claws after the movie - this was the second one! This is my first time writing something like this, so keeping it a little light with the dynamics 💖 thanks for reading!
and speaking of - I have to link this amazing alpha!logan thot by the incredible @avocado-writing! please check it out! 💕
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