#logan knows rage and guilt
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Here's a fluff/angst idea: Wade having an awful day and having self-depreciating thoughts, so he lays in bed in his fluffy pajamas, hugging a pillow tightly and starts to cry. Then Logan lays in bed with him, as the big spoon, tightly holding Wade to himself and shooshing Wade softly (a comforting shhhh) until Wade falls asleep peacefully
damn, that’s hella soft
the two of them have been thru shit and a half, and there are days where the weight is just too much. a sound, a voice, nothing or anything could start a downward spiral
but they don’t leave. they can’t leave each other alone, because dark nights and unrelenting thoughts will worsen the fragile cracks
so they soothe, they comfort, and they find a strange kind of peace together. even in quiet nights filled with nothing but strong arms and synchronized breathing
#pear shaped rambling#text only#ask#answered asks#deadpool#deadpool x wolverine#deadpool 3#wade wilson#wolverine#logan howlett#deadclaws#poolverine#this is kinda the flip side of the first fic i made#wade knows self loathing and trauma#logan knows rage and guilt#they mirror each other
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— guard dog
kinktober 01 → dom/sub dynamics
sub!logan x dom mutant fem!reader
synopsis
Nobody would believe how his masculine bravado fell as he let you take control. They didn’t notice how you could dismiss him with a nod of your head, how he would immediately back down from a fight if you told him to drop it. Like a dog with a bone. That’s the thing about Logan. He is protective like a guard dog is protective. And he is submissive like a guard dog is submissive. Oh, you so enjoy training him.
wordcount: 4k+
tags/warnings below the cut
tags/warnings: explicit (18+ mdni), dom/sub, light pain kink, light praise kink, porn with feelings, hurt/comfort, logan calls reader ma'am, reader wears a dress, pet names (incl. baby, pretty boy, kitty cat), degradation, oral sex (f. recieving), mutual mast., unprotected p i v, fingering, come eating, logan is compared to a guard dog (non-sexually), one (1) mention of collar play, no use of y/n. i'm sure i've forgotten something, please let me know if i have!
a/n: i have no excuse for this omfg. i'm a slut, ok!! and i am allergic to writing smut without including major feels what's up with that
thank you to the lovely @eupheme for looking over this before i posted!
You love seeing Logan like this. On his knees, eyes glazed over, beard drenched in your slick. Fingers tangled in his hair, hard grip pulling his head away from your cunt. You are bare beneath your dress, hiked up to your stomach, but Logan is completely naked. Looking down at him from where you sit on the edge of the bed, thighs spread wide. In complete control as he whines at the loss of his mouth on you, completely drunk on your taste. Candlelight and the Autumn twilight illuminating the planes of his face like liquid gold. Your core throbs where his tongue was just a moment ago.
You hush him, your free hand cupping his jaw. “You miss my pussy, baby?” Your brows knit together in mock pity at the desperate sound he makes in affirmation. He grinds feebly at the side of your mattress, neglected cock aching for something, anything. Maybe it says something bad about you, that you get off on seeing him so pathetic. But you know he craves this too.
He was embarrassed about it, at first. Being submissive. Getting hard when you called him your sweet baby, your pretty boy, voice dripping with condescension. But you could tell that he needed to unwind the second he woke up after you dragged him into the X-mansion with Jean and Scott. You could feel it, the emotions pouring from him.
Your mutation is a difficult thing to control. To turn off. Sometimes, you feel like a creep. A trespasser. Knowing the deepest emotions of a stranger, ones they may not even recognize themselves. You think Jean and Charles are lucky, with powers rooted in thought. They can tease out feelings too, but their power is fundamentally different from yours. Thought is intention. Emotions are energy.
“You can’t force your retinas to stop sensing photons just because the light bulb does not know you can see it. Even if you close your eyes, my dear, you will still be able to see its light, however dimmed.” Charles’ words from your first day at the mansion help to curb the guilt; when you feel like an intruder.
You certainly felt like an intruder months ago, when Logan woke up in the lab, lit aflame like a wildfire. Fear and rage, as he shot up from the table. Confusion, as he pulled the IV from his arm. Idiot. You tried to ground yourself in something tangible, anything, to keep yourself from feeling him. So much him. The buzz of the fluorescent bulbs. The vent blowing cool air against your skin. The weight of contact where your feet met the floor.
You taught mindfulness and meditation to the students and your teammates. Helped them to guard their emotions from people like you. For you, meditation was like closing your eyes. You could still sense those around you, it was just easier to tune out. Like hearing music through cotton in your ears. When others meditated, it was like switching off the light bulb. Leading students through exercises in your class was your favorite time of the day. Sweet silence enveloping you like an embrace from an old friend.
Later on that first day, when you introduced yourself to Logan properly, he grumbled, “Stay out of my head, bub.” His frustration butted against you like a battering ram. And you stood against it, the feeling piercing your heart just a little. Powers standing tall as a wall of stone as you told him that it wasn’t that simple. You wished they could have just crumbled. You couldn’t help but feel guilt eat away at you like it always did. You wouldn’t blame him if he hated you.
Over his first few weeks in the mansion, you taught him basic mindfulness in one-on-one sessions. He had trouble taking it seriously; thought it was silly. A bit out, “No way this’ll work, bub,” as you led him through meditation in the training room, sat cross-legged on the mat across from him. You told him to close his eyes, to focus on the feeling of his breaths. “Now you’re just makin’ fun’a me,” as you told him not to fight his emotions. After twenty minutes, you could still feel the anxiety gnawing at him. Just as bad as at the start of the session. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze met yours— bright hazel making your breath hitch. His fear and anger and self-loathing were banked for a moment, and you felt something else. Understanding. Desire. You weren’t sure if it was his, or yours. Maybe both. He ended up in your bed that night.
Your first few times were pretty vanilla. Him on top, pounding into you, sweat from his brow falling against your cheek. After a month of him fucking you into the mattress at least three times a week, he was still tense as he took you. On edge, knowing he was unguarded from your mutation. It wasn’t that the sex was bad. It was some of the best sex you’d ever had. But you could feel it, whether you wanted to or not. His anxiety. Curled up like a viper behind a bush, hiding just beneath his pleasure. Never fully letting go.
He didn’t even hold it against you, anymore. Your mutation. Knew how it felt to be hated for something you couldn’t control. Maybe that’s what had drawn him to you in the first place.
But when your nails scraped down the side of his bicep, barely even hard enough to leave a mark, you felt the rumble of his moan, deep in your chest. Couldn’t feel that viper anymore, lurking just below the surface. Like it was carried away in the beak of a hawk as you marked him. He begged.
“More.”
You shuddered. In control, after that. Flipping your position so he was on his back, body pliant beneath yours as you rode him. Your breath was hot against his ear when you leaned down, bare tits tender where they pressed against his chest, to whisper. “Gonna let me take care of you, baby? Gonna let go?”
Nobody would believe how his masculine bravado fell as he let you take control. From the outside, he seemed like the dominating personality in your relationship— undefined as it was. How his hand would reach in front of you protectively during missions, how he would bristle with a clenched fist if anybody talked a little too much shit during an exercise in the Danger Room. They didn’t notice how you could dismiss him with a nod of your head, how he would immediately back down from a fight if you told him to drop it. Like a dog with a bone.
That’s the thing about Logan. He is protective like a guard dog is protective. And he is submissive like a guard dog is submissive. Oh, you so enjoy training him.
And much as you tried to teach him to meditate over months since he arrived, empty his mind more conventionally, it never quite worked for him. But when he’s beneath you, eyes glazed over as you bounce up and down on his cock, and you can’t sense a single thing from his pretty little head? You know you’ve done your job well. Given him what he needs.
“Such a good boy, making me feel so nice,” you croon, in the moment again. He sat on the floor between your legs, eyes desperate and wanting when you thrust your hips up in the air just a little bit. Teasing him with the movement, more than yourself. Your hand is still tangled in his hair as he tries to lean forward to bury his face in your cunt again.
“Stay,” your voice is hard, careful that you don’t betray the fluttering in your belly at how badly he needs you. “I thought you were a good boy, but good boys follow orders.” You pout, mocking him.
“’M sorry, baby, just wanna make you feel good,” he pants, eyes
glistening in the dim light of the waning sun. Golden leaves rustling just outside the window. “Wanna make you come.”
You smile, maybe a little meanly, your free hand squeezing his cheeks together. The other uses its grip in his hair to pull his head back farther, exposing the sweet column of his neck to your greedy eyes. He looks so pretty like this. If he hadn’t been so naughty, you would’ve told him as much. Instead, harsher words leave your lips.
“Already so pussy drunk you forgot your rules, kitty cat?” You let your hand loosen its grip on his hair, the other still pressing into either cheek, forcing his gaze to yours. “You will make me come when I let you, hm? Can you handle that, darling, or do we need to stop?” The pet name is saccharine sweet on your tongue, mock sympathy dripping from your voice.
“No ma’am,” he croaks out— words muffled by your grip on his face. You finally let go, comforter plush against your skin as you lean back on your elbows. Nothing but the weight of your gaze keeps him frozen in place beneath you. You wait for him to continue, expectantly.
“Don’t need’ta stop,” he pants. “Just need you.”
You love how the words fall from his lips. How he lets them. Tracing his jaw tenderly, the soft touch so at odds with the mean glint in your eye. So at odds with the swell of your heart, knowing he can let go with you.
“I know you do, baby.” Your thumb strokes his bottom lip, “Now ask nicely.”
“Please.” The way he begs has your core throbbing, the heat of your desire spreading down each limb like a flame. You almost give in. Almost.
But you can’t have him getting spoiled.
He knows he’s fucked when one side of your mouth lifts in a cruel smirk. You lean down so your lips brush against his ear. “I’ll let you lick my pussy clean after you fill it. If you’re good.”
He whines; the sound a desperate thing.
“Touch yourself, baby,” you guide as you tease your fingers at your entrance. Soaked, from your slick and from Logan’s mouth. Your first finger slides in easily, as Logan’s hand grips at his cock. He sighs at the stimulation, the relief, though you know he’d rather his face be buried between your legs. His tip is flushed, weeping. He ruts into his fist as your finger begins to move within you. Already so slick that you make room for a second.
Sparks light up inside your belly, already sensitive from Logan’s work, but your touch is nothing compared to his. Your fingers are smaller, not reaching nearly as deep as his would, when you curl them. But you savor the control— as you fuck yourself on the bed and Logan touches himself on the floor. Almost feral for you.
Locks of hair pulled from their little tufts where you mussed them, falling in front of his eyes. A bead of sweat glistens on his brow, before sliding down his cheek. His lips part; the sounds of his desire falling from them. Sweeter than any melody.
And your mutation? Couldn’t sense a damn thing. So blissed out that his mind went blank. Letting each sensation roll over his body like a wave against the sandy shore.
That’s the toughest part about this. Seeing him like this and maintaining your resolve, composure, control. To tease him instead of fucking him like an animal. And you will— fuck him like an animal. He just has to work for it first.
You spread your legs a little wider, pumping your fingers in and out. Using your thumb to circle your clit. Teasing Logan with what you wouldn’t let him taste. Yet. You draw out his little torture, watching you get yourself off, so close that your heady desire is all he can smell. Climbing closer and closer to the peak of your pleasure, eyes hooded as they meet Logan’s, letting the sounds of his panting fill the air until you finally come undone. Feeling terribly vulgar as your walls pulse around your fingers. Growing even slicker, then.
“Stop now, little prince.”
Logan stops moving like he is bound to your will. You smile. He doesn’t even talk back when you call him little. Four hundred pounds of muscle and adamantium wrapped around your finger. You bring your hand, wet with your arousal, to meet his lips.
“Open up.”
Logan lets his jaw slacken, his tongue jutting just above his lower lip to taste what you give him. You hum, as your fingers slide into his mouth and he hollows out his cheeks to suck. Your other hand moves to play with his hair, gentler now than it was before.
“Such a good boy for me, aren’t you?”
You think that the noise Logan makes is in affirmation. Your fingers remain between his closed lips.
“Gonna make you come now, baby.”
Logan bites back a moan, glossy eyes wild with need.
Fingers slip loose with a slick pop as you guide him up to the bed. You finally let your dress pool on the floor around your feet. Logan sits back against the headboard, flushed cock at attention. You climb atop him, hard muscles so at odds with his lolling head and hooded eyes. Feeling his length press against your belly as you admire the view. Such a pretty thing, sprawled out on your bed, waiting for you with a leaking cock.
“So needy. Need me to fuck you good, baby?” You ghost a touch across his sweat-slick forehead. “Need me to fuck all the thoughts out of this pretty little head?”
He nods. But no words escape his lips. You angle your head to the side, patient.
His voice is rough with desire as he croaks, “Yes, ma’am. Please.”
You feign confusion. “Please what, sweetheart?”
Swallowing his pride. “Fuck me, baby. Please”
You line up above him, palms resting on his toned chest, thick length prodding at your entrance.
“Mmm, only because you asked so nicely.”
You sink down on him in a quick, brutal thrust that steals your breath— his cock brushing that perfect spot your fingers couldn’t quite reach. Your mouth finds his neck, where your teeth nip and lips soothe. Inhaling his scent— cigar smoke and whiskey mingle with the musk of his sweat. Undertones of cedar from his shampoo as vanilla wafts from your candles. Your hips remain still, his tip nearly brushing your cervix, savoring the slick, sweet stretch. Logan lets out something between a growl and a whimper when you clench your walls around him, teasing.
His desperation finally spurs you on, lighting a sweet fire in your core. Angling your hips up before sinking down again. And again. Slow, at first. You let yourself enjoy his thick length dragging along your walls, stimulating that spongy spot that makes you see stars.
“Y’fill me up so good, baby.”
Logan’s muscles tense beneath you, eyes squeezed shut as he fights the urge to move his hips. Aching to meet you as you slowly pump, to rut up into you hard and fast. You click your tongue in admonishment as his eyebrows knit together.
“Eyes on me, sweet thing.”
His lips move, searching for his words, but all that comes out is a garbled moan. His hazel gaze meets your own, brow heavy with the effort you know it takes to follow your rules. Your mutation still can’t sense anything from him. The strain purely physical, as his mind floats through the bliss of your command. Your chest grows heavy with the trust that Logan has given to you so freely.
“So good for me, Logan. So good,” you purr.
Finally, you pick up the pace. Raising up before gravity brings you back down, hard. Logan sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth, eyes rolling back in his head. Quickly darting them back to your face. Tender flesh gripping him to the hilt, before lifting yourself again. A few thrusts like that, as the impact of your ass on his hips fills the room. If it hurts at all, you know he’ll savor it.
You think fucking like this might break another man’s hips. There are benefits to having a lover made of adamantium. You can play hard, and never break him. He always has his safe word, if it becomes too much.
Changing your pace again, more for your benefit than for Logan’s. One hand tangles in his hair, pulling. Your arm rests by his head, face hovering just above his. Each of his pants ghost across your lips. Thrusting quicker now, as you rock your hips up and down. Gaze locked on his. The sound of the leaves rustling against the window is drowned out by the bed frame squeaking.
His velvety length dragging against your sensitive walls brings you closer to the edge of your release— his tip brushes right where you need it with each thrust as he splits you open. The burning tension coils tight, tight, tight in your belly; until you can’t stand it anymore.
“Lo, fuck, t— touch me,” the command comes out breathier than you intended. But Logan obeys just the same. His hand moves between your bodies, fingers circling your swollen clit as expertly as your own.
Molten heat races through your body as you tumble over the edge. Waves of warm pleasure sweep you away, Logan’s palm resting against your tummy. You can feel your walls flutter around his cock, rolling your hips as you come down from your high, lips ghosting against his ear.
“Come for me, Logan.”
He moves up to meet your thrusts, then. The pressure verges on overstimulation as his cock plunges deep inside. But you savor it, savor giving him exactly what he needs.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it.”
Your grip on his hair weakens to a caress as he spills inside you. You still your hips, letting Logan fuck you through his climax. Once he stops moving, your bodies go limp, enjoying this moment of closeness. The way his skin sticks to yours, damp with sweat. The sound of his heartbeat. The rise and fall of his chest. He lets out a contented sigh, and you finally roll off of him. You enjoy the softness of the mattress against your back for a moment. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you finally spread your legs— making room for Logan to settle between them.
“C’mere, baby. You know I’m not done with you yet.”
Logan grins, wasting no time as he positions himself between your thighs. There is a mischievous little glint in his eye, face hovering above your cunt.
“Finally somethin’ to eat. Had me starvin’ down there, baby.”
Bratty little shit. You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you then, rolling your eyes.
“You talking back to me, bub?” You grab him by the chin, digging in your fingernails hard enough to leave little red crescents in his skin. But there’s a smile on your face and mirth in your voice.
“No ma’am.” His chin angles down, looking up at you with hooded eyes. His smirk is devilish as he bats his eyelashes. Fucking bats his eyelashes. You don’t think anybody would believe that the Wolverine packs a mean doe-eye.
Shaking your head in disbelief, the ghost of a smile on your lips, your hold keeps his greedy mouth just beyond his treasure.
“You wanna rethink your tone, kitty cat?” Head angled, as you watch him through what you hope are stern eyes. You try to add a hard edge to your voice, but he’s so damn cute.
It seems to work. His smirk melts away, and only hunger remains, desperate and glossy-eyed. “Yes ma’am. ‘M sorry.”
Victory is sweet on your tongue, at his concession. The heady weight of control in your palms. Electricity snakes down your spine, each pant of his breath teasing you between your thighs.
“That’s it, baby. I forgive you.” You pout at him, mocking. Maybe you’re a sore winner. You can’t help it when he’s so needy for a taste of himself on your pussy. “Now be a good boy and clean up your mess.”
As soon as you loosen your grip on his chin, he buries himself between your legs. Stroking the flat of his tongue from your weepy slit to your swollen nub. Licking and sucking at your puffy folds, swallowing the mix of your slick and his milky spend like it’s the only meal he’s had in weeks. The squelch of him lapping at you and you moaning his name are all that fill your ears. You toy with the hair at the base of his neck, the roughness of his beard against your thighs making you shiver.
“F-fuck— Lo, baby,” a lewd whimper escapes you, breath stuttering. “You wanna make me come?”
He somehow buries himself even deeper between your legs, then. Nose pressing against your clit just right, as he devours you. Fucking you with his tongue, before moving up to lick quick circles around the bundle of nerves.
“That’s it, Logan— fuck!”
Words are lost to you, for a moment. Taken by the pleasure swelling in your belly as he slides a finger inside. Pressure builds in your abdomen when it curls against that sweet spot. You grind against him, eyes closed and mouth agape.
“Know you can do it, baby,” you pant, spurring him on. Logan adds a second digit, bending to hit the spongy flesh. “So good for me, so—” you are interrupted again, choking out a sob as your core tightens with your impending release.
Logan brings his lips to your slit, fingers still moving inside. His mouth falls open, ready to drink down your essence when the dam within you finally bursts. The pressure behind your navel gives way to warm wetness between your legs. You fall apart on Logan’s thick fingers, throbbing while he swallows the mix of your come and his.
His fingers slide out of you, suddenly empty, and the milky ring around them could be his spend or yours. Hopefully both. Bringing them to his mouth, before he licks them clean. He goes limp when you finally relax onto the bed, his head resting against your tummy. His legs must be hanging off the bed comically, but you can’t bring yourself to lift your head and check. You choose to ignore the wet spot beneath your ass. The remnants of your climax and Logan’s inevitable drooling as he ate you out. Something to worry about later.
For now, your fingers find their way to Logan’s scalp once again, touch featherlight and tender. You can’t help it when he sighs like that beneath your touch. If you had it your way, your hand would never leave its place here. Holding him to you, gently claiming him as yours.
Your mutation is quiet, still, in the afterglow. At peace. And so is Logan. Head still floating in the clouds, blissed out and dazed. Somewhere nobody can reach except the two of you. As much as he needs this, the way you give him respite even sleep never offers, you need it too. The silence, after. As you lay with him, in tenderness.
You’re struck with a sudden truth. Not sure how you’d overlooked it, all this time. A low whisper, as the sun finally rests beneath the horizon. Flickering candlelight and the faint fluorescent glow creeping beneath the bedroom door. The aged wood all that separates your little world from the rest of the mansion. If you weren’t so focused on that strange heaviness in your chest, you would have the presence of mind to hope nobody heard the two of you.
“I love you, Lo.”
Breath held in your lungs, as you wait. Just a beat, before he answers.
“Love you too.” His palm rests on your waist, rubbing tender circles. His face nuzzles a little closer into your belly. “My baby. My girl.”
The stinging behind your eyes catches you off guard. But, so do his words. You feel the truth in them. You never thought you’d have this with someone. Never thought anybody would trust you. An interloper. An unwelcome visitor, eavesdropping on the devotion of strangers, destined to feel their love for each other. But never for you. It was never going to be for you.
But you feel it, now. Yours. Unsure why it hadn’t cross your mind before.
Like a wolf, when you met. Wild, feral. Lashing out to bite any hand that got too close. Tamed, with your compassion. Firm as it was. You always thought he was like a guard dog. Faithful. Trusting. Once you’d earned it. Of course he would love you like one.
You felt heat creep up your ears, at the thought of getting him a collar, stifling a laugh in the crook of your elbow.
His hum vibrates against your torso.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, baby. Think I just need some psychological help.” The words are muffled against your arm.
Logan is still packing plenty of sass, even in his fucked out state.
“That’a surprise?” He looks up at you, a single eyebrow arched. You can’t help but laugh. Smiling, as you rebuke.
“Asshole.”
a/n: aaah thank you for reading!! i'm nervous about this one, if you liked it please let me know!! 🫣
dividers by saradika-graphics
#logan howlett x reader#logan x reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#logan howlett smut#wolverine smut#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett imagine#my work#.5k#1k
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I haven't seen anyone else talk about it, so I wanted to share that Logan's rant monologue insulting Wade in the Honda Odyssey, before Wade decides to beat him up and they ~fight~ all night... that so clearly to me, was Logan projecting. It started as a tempered rant to cope with how annoyed and pent up he was, with the heat of everything and with Wade's muchness that makes him, him, but the longer he went on, the more he started ranting and exposing himself in the process.
"THE XMEN REJECTED YOU, AND THEY'LL TAKE FUCKING ANYONE!!!" That was my first hit, that he was referring to himself. He sees himself so lowly, so failed, that's canonical to the film. And canonically, he didn't even quite originally feel worthy or want to be with the XMEN. Didn't feel like there was a place for him there, a place for him anywhere. One of his biggest healings was Professor X not giving up on helping him believe that he deserved to be there, was wanted, was worthy, was a good guy. That's canon to his character. So we know he was speaking about himself. He was chewing Wade out, but he was also talking and focusing moreso on what upset him about himself. (He sees himself as just any jo shmo, when he IS literally THE X MAN ㅠㅠ)
He was seeing himself in Wade, how he "can't even save a relationship with a gd stripper", (he sees himself as not able to save anything either, and he's angry for that more than anything else he's angry or annoyed at) projecting SO HARD as he pieced together saying it out loud, that Wade was exactly like him. Logan hated himself for not saving anything. For being a "loser", a "failure", for all of the same reasons he was lashing out at Wade for. He was so angry and annoyed by Wade reminding him of himself, because he related to him. Wade was his reflection, in his eyes, calling him out so loudly with his own behaviors. And he hated himself. He deeply was suffering with that hatred for himself, and as a result, he lashed out on Wade when really he was chewing out himself, inside, admitting it.
"God's CRUELEST JOKE, IS THAT YOU *WONT* DIE ALONE. BECAUSE YOU! CANT! DIE! SO THE REST OF US HAVE TO SUFFER YOU THE REST OF OUR EXISTENCE!" (something along that.)
He didn't know for sure that Wade can't die. He picked up on that Wade can't be killed. Logan is the one who can't die. They are two flipped sides of the same immortal power coin. When he finished his screaming at him, and everyone was silent at how cruel and shocking the confrontation and his words were, I was sinking with a very empathetically whispered "oh, Logan..." Because I felt his misery. I immediately picked up on him really talking about himself, and I think that was genius and layered. I was upset for how awful that was to say to Wade, heartbroken for Wade taking that to heart, and I was heartbroken that Logan was saying that because he believes that about himself. Because they are, oddly, a lot alike. Very compatible.
This scene here:
I read that Hugh said that Ryan wrote that. He's brilliant with these films. It was so genius. I really needed to share this and bring this thought, meta, analysis to light. For all of us to have.
Is Logan mad at God's "cruel joke" of his immortality, yet ability to feel so much pain through it still? Yes. He punched the roof in rage, because it's not fair. Venting his own pain. He sees his powers, his own and Wade's too, empathetically, as their curse. The curse of being the one who lives, and the guilt with that. The one who can't die. The one who lives, who is forced to live, while everyone who "deserves to live" dies. And WILL die, around them.
"And You can't die. That's on all of US!" Logan says, clearly referring to himself living forever... And "us" being the people HE loved. He saw himself as a burden for existing with them, for them. He deflected that onto Wade, as if the people in Wade's life must feel that way too, but didn't really mean that. He meant it about himself. Logan believes he was a burden on the people he loves, the people he lost. That's probably why he left too, and didn't come back when they called out for him to. He distanced himself to protect them, and protect himself from that fear of rejection that he feels is so imminent, and them not having him, is the one element that led to none of them surviving without him. He was always the key. He was always wanted, and he was always important and needed. He just couldn't ever believe that.
Man, that's why it became so personal for Logan too, when he was shown Wade's photograph of his family. Because HE had a family, and he would do anything now to save them. Just like Wade. He held that photograph all night, he went and got it when it fell out of the car, he kept looking at it. It became personal for him, when he identified with it. That Honda scene really was their turning point of everything. That's when Logan cared with everything. He got it. Wade is the him he couldn't be. But now he can.
I dropped some heat with this one.
Extra little personal context/thought notes: Maybe I just spotted it because I have a natural knack for psychology, I'm hyperobservant, highly empathetic and deeply feeling, and I'm also years experienced of my parents and whole family treating me the same exact toxic lashout way almost every other day. That's a workweek for me to see through toxic lashout anger BS. These are not my gifs!!! They were created by another amazing account. I will refind their @ and tag them!! >>> It's @landoslastnerve ! Thank you friend! 🤍
Also wanted to include someone's tags from those gifs:
.
#fictionalmenmistress#original#wolverine#deadpool#deadpool & wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#deadclaws#poolverine#wolverpool#logan#logan howlett#logan james howlett#james howlett#james logan howlett#wade wilson#deadpool 3#xmen#x men#xmen wolverine#the wolverine#the honda hatefuck#the honda odyssey#honda odyssey#honda odessy#logan x wade#wade x logan#my reviews#deadpool meta#deadpool 2#deadverine
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Sometimes I see reviews about D&W where people think Worst Wolverine's backstory is super lacking. That they expected something epic like how Mysterio tricked Logan to slaughter everyone in the Old Man comic run.
But that plot, at least to me, doesn't make The Worst Wolverine. It probably makes the Most Tortured Wolverine -- the story of a man slaughtering his own family with his bare hands because he was mind controlled. Which inevitably created a power vacuum so gigantic that the world basically collapsed as supervillains take over the world.
But the title of Worst Wolverine should belong to the Logan that completely abandons his most important moral value: to be the protector.
Sure, he tends to be nomadic and at times self-isolates, but at his core he truly knows what it means to be a pack animal: to be a part of a cohesive family unit, rely on others, be a guardian for the weak.
In a literal sense, a common backstory for him was that he just fucked off from human society after he mutated to live with a pack of wolves. He turned feral, but they also taught him about the importance of community.
Even if you aren't a fan of the wolf background (which I AM because I think it's funny and dramatic as hell), there's other stories where he got taken care of by the Blackfoot Tribe and Lord Ogun before somehow winding up in the Weapon-X Program. Then, the Hudson family rescued him and helped him gain his humanity back after the adamantium experiments. He joined Department H, and sometime after, he found his place with the X-Men.
My point being that past or present, Logan has always belonged to a family. He needs it -- his human AND animal side both need it. He's not meant to be a creature of solitude. When he is, it's a form of punishment that he inflicts upon himself because he doesn't feel worthy to be around the people he loves or he's worried about hurting them. Or it's something inflicted upon him -- aka he's been captured and is being experimented on.
So what does all this tell us about Logan's moral code? He cares deeply for others because it's in his nature to be a part of a pack and he will do anything to protect them.
He's very caring towards animals (ex. looking after wolves that took care of him, mercy killing a bear in The Wolverine, and saving the horses in Logan). He tried to save Silver Fox's life when Sabretooth attacked her. When his wife Itsu was murdered, he relied on the advice of Lord Ogun to get vengeance for her with the Muramasa Blade. He joined Department H and Alpha Flight because he owed the Hudsons so much after re-acclimating him to society. He stayed with the X-Men because Charles gave him a home, family, and purpose outside of being a weapon. He enabled him to be the good man that he is by not only using his powers for the good fight but also being a teacher for the students.
As a character, Logan was created to reflect the archetype of the cowboy/samurai with the morals of honor, integrity, and justice. He's also not afraid to be judge, jury, and executioner for the people he loves. He's a man of action.
So what is the antithetical? A man who dishonors himself by not taking his job seriously. A man of inaction who abandons those he loves. A man who doesn't seek justice but wallows in regret and guilt.
And what did the Worst Wolverine do?
He let his fondness for drinking harm his work. While he was drinking at a bar, a group of humans invaded the X-Mansion and killed a large part of the staff, students, and X-Men. He entered a berserker rage where he murdered the invaders AND innocent people. He tarnished the legacy of the X-Men.
The title of Worst Wolverine doesn't go to the man who got brainwashed and killed without knowing. The title goes to the Logan who killed indescriminantly and didn’t want to stop.
He chose to walk away when they called out for him. He went into a beast state that made the public completely turn against the X-Men in just one night. Instead of making up for his sins, he just went back to the bar -- the very thing that killed his family. He did everything he could to go against his morals of honor, integrity, and justice.
He was a man who failed his family.
THAT'S what makes him The Worst Wolverine.
#my post#wolverine#logan howlett#deadpool and wolverine#i went insane with this one#i just hate when people are like 'hur dur his backstory wasnt cool enough'#SHUT UP#HES NOT SUPPOSED TO BE COOL#HES SUPPOSED TO BE A PATHETIC COWARD!!!! THATS WHY EVERYONE HATES HIM!!!!!!!!!!!#HES THE VILLAIN OF HIS UNIVERSE YOU BUFFOONS!!!!!!#character essay
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Love me Forever
Continuation of Love me Tonight
Warning: SMUT
~o0o~
Wade walks you across the hall with a smile. “But it’s your birthday! I made a dick cake and everything.” You roll your eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t actually make a cake shaped like a dick.” Wade’s smile grows even wider. He opens the door ushering you in. “I also got you a present!”
And there HE stood.
Logan Howlett. The Wolverine.
Not yours of course, but a variant.
Your eyes lock with Logan’s. And you freeze. Laura jumps up and hugs you. “Surprise!” Logan says nothing as he watches you. He looks as grumpy as ever and you swear you almost hear him huff in annoyance.
You look to Wade, tears in your eyes. “Is this a fucking joke?” Wade’s cheerful expression quickly fades, realizing this present might not be going as well as he’d hoped. “Of course not. I thought you would be excited, I just wanted to give you something special-“
You quickly raise your hand and slip him across his burnt face. Wade stumbles back a few steps, clearly taken aback, rubbing his now reddening cheek. He had expected some surprise, maybe a gasp or a small scream, but not a slap. “What the hell was that for?!”
“You didn’t tell me you brought… him… back with you!” You berate him. How could Wade do this to you? Wade straightens up, regaining his composure. “I thought you’d be happy! I figured you’d jump into his arms, or something..” He glances over at Logan, who’s still silently watching you intently. “I didn’t think you’d slap me.” You storm out in a tearful rage.
Laura watches in confusion. She looks at Wade. “You didn’t tell her?” Wade shakes his head, wincing slightly at his sore cheek. “No… I thought it would be a nice surprise, y’know?” Laura sighs, looking at you with a sympathetic expression, her eyes darting over to Logan.
“Okay so this is bad,” Laura says. Logan’s expression remains stern, as always. He still hasn’t said a word, watching you with intense eyes, studying your every move. Wade rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, feeling the tension in the room. “What did you expect to happen?” Logan asks sipping at his drink.
Wade shrugs sheepishly as the awkwardness in the room increases. “I don’t know. I thought she’d be excited. Like a big fantasy or something.” He glances over at you and shrugs apologetically. Logan scoffs, “You’re a fucking idiot.”
Wade looks offended by Logan's bluntness. "Hey, I was just trying to give her something special! How was I supposed to know she'd react like this?" Laura rolls her eyes, “Because the last time she saw her Logan they fought and then he died! God, you idiot!”
Wade flushed red, embarrassed that he hadn't considered that. "Right... right..." He looks sheepishly at you, realizing now just how bad of an idea this is.
Despite Wade's multiple attempts to seek you out and apologize, you find ways to avoid him. Whether it's taking separate routes through the building or simply locking your door when he tries to let himself into your apartment.
Logan's mind was preoccupied nightly with the image of you flooding his thoughts. He saw the tears in your eyes, the hurt etched across your face. Guilt tugged at him as he replayed the memory of Wade's confrontational ambush. He knew Wade had acted foolishly and regretted the pain it caused you.
He ponders the conversations you have had with your Logan, the moments you’ve shared with the variant and the memories you’ve created together. His mind wonders about the intimate moments the two of you must’ve shared. A pang of longing mixed with curiosity fills his chest, the desire to know more about you growing with each passing second.
Logan shakes his head, trying to clear his mind of the intrusive thoughts. He takes a deep breath and tries to focus on something else, anything else, to distract himself from the intense curiosity and longing that threatens to consume him. He decides to refresh his drink, but his hopes are dashed as he finds that the fridge is empty, with no more beers in sight.
In a moment of resignation, Logan grabs his jacket and strides toward the door with determination. He knows exactly where he’s going – the gas station down the street, the only place around that's guaranteed to be open and stocked with beer. With a set jaw and purposeful stride, Logan steps out into the night, his mind filled with a mixture of resolve and anticipation as he sets off toward the convenience store.
You find yourself in the laundry room late at night, the soft hum of the washing machines the only sound in the otherwise quiet space. The pile of laundry in the basket feels insurmountable, and you realize you're behind on your laundry. You let out a sigh, the realization of the mountain of work ahead settling in as you approach the washing machine, the soft light of the room casting an eerie glow on the surroundings.
As Logan strides past the laundry room, he spots you, the unexpected sight causing him to pause in his tracks. Fate, God, coincidence – whatever the explanation, the timing feels almost preordained. Surprise flits across his features as he gazes at you, the image of you in the quiet laundromat at such a late hour taking him off guard.
Driven by an urge he can't quite explain, Logan quietly enters the laundry room. The soft sound of the door closing behind him echoes in the otherwise silent space, adding to the intimate atmosphere of the closed-off room.
The sound of the door opening behind you makes you look up from your task. It’s late at night, so you didn’t expect to see anyone here. Logan stands in the doorway, expression as grumpy as ever. He gives you a brief once over, taking in your laundry before leaning against the door frame.
Your hands automatically reach up to remove the headphones fully, and a simple, “Uh, hey” escapes your lips, your surprise echoing in the single word. Logan gives a gruff, almost imperceptible nod in response. He remains silent for a few moments, but his intense gaze never leaves your form. He tilts his head, taking in your expression, noting the subtle change in your body language. He studies you a bit more before speaking again. “You’ve been avoiding Wade. He keeps whining about it.”
A subtle eye-roll flickers across your features at his muttered complaint. You can feel your heart pounding a little faster, threatening to escape its confines. You force yourself to look away, the sight of him stirring up emotions you'd rather not acknowledge. "He'll just have to keep whining," you reply, your voice barely above a murmur, the words falling from your lips with a hint of sarcasm.
An amused smirk tugs at the corner of Logan’s mouth, a mixture of annoyance and wry humor evident in his expression. He pushes away from the door frame and saunters towards you, closing the gap between you with a few effortless strides. He stops a few feet away, eyes still locked on yours. There’s a hint of intrigue and curiosity in the way he gazes at you as if drawn to you against his will. With a raised eyebrow and a casual tone, he poses his question, "And why's that?"
Your gulp is barely noticeable, but it doesn't escape Logan's watchful gaze. You shake your head gently, your voice coming out as a soft murmur. "Like you don't know," you say, a hint of reluctant acknowledgment lacing your words.
Logan shrugs casually, his expression remaining neutral as he replies, his voice carrying a hint of indifference. “Wade didn't tell me much,” he says, his words a simple statement. The implication hangs between you, hinting at an untold story that Wade chose not to disclose. “Just the highlights.”
Logan's voice continues, his tone still casual as he mentions your relationship with 'your Logan'. "So you and your Logan," he repeats, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. The words hang in the air, the mention of your connection to this other man, the other him, piquing his interest.
Your gaze slowly lifts to meet Logan's eyes, and you can't help but notice the similarities, the resemblance between him and 'your Logan'. There's a younger, more rugged edge to this Logan, but the familiar frown and the scent of cigars and alcohol are unmistakable. Surprisingly, instead of distaste, there's a hint of comfort in these reminders, a familiarity in the differences.
"It was dysfunctional," you admit, your tone laced with a bittersweet mixture of resignation and affection. "But I loved him." The words linger in the air, each syllable a confession of a complex and messy relationship, filled with both pain and undeniable love.
A pang of jealousy flares within Logan, a sharp twinge of envy for the late Logan and the connection you two shared. His chest tightens at the knowledge that you had endured hurt and disappointment at the hands of another man, another him, yet you remained fiercely loyal.
The question leaves your lips, curiosity, and a hint of hope coloring the words. "Did you have a me? In your universe?" The thought has been at the back of your mind, the possibility lingering like an unasked question.
The softness in Logan's gaze is brief, but it doesn't escape your notice. As he shakes his head, replying with a quiet "No," a hint of what might have been, a glimpse of loss or regret, flickers across his sharp features. "He was lucky," he adds, a touch of resignation in his words, an admission that your absence in his universe is both a lack and a blessing.
The implications of Logan's response hang in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the dark possibilities in his reality. If he had a version of you, given the dangerous world he inhabited, chances were high that you wouldn't be alive or would harbor deep resentment towards him.
Your eyes avert from his gaze, unable to bear the mixture of emotions swirling within you. It's a jarring reminder that he's not your Logan. The pain of loss coupled with the presence of a man who resembles him so closely creates a maelstrom of feelings you can barely contain.
With a small, somewhat forced smile, you gather your laundry and hoist the basket into your arms. The need to escape the tense atmosphere and conflicting emotions prompts you to take a step back. "see you around," you murmur, the words carrying a hint of resignation.
The air between you is thick with unspoken words and conflicting emotions. Logan's expression remains stoic, his usual frown still intact, but his eyes betray a maelstrom of thoughts and feelings he can't quite articulate. He watches as you turn to leave, the laundry basket clutched in your arms. “Hope so.”
Wade slams his head against your door, his voice rising in a whiny, insistent tone as he loudly calls out your name, desperation evident in his words. However, all his efforts are futile, as you’re not home to hear or respond to his desperate pleas.
You spot Wade propped up against your door, his presence causing you to roll your eyes and let out a small sigh. "What are you doing, Wade?" you ask, a mixture of annoyance and resignation in your voice as you approach.
Wade’s head whips around to face you as you approach, his expression a mix of surprise and relief. He pushes himself away from the door, standing up straight and giving you an awkward smile. “Hey, there you are,” he says, his voice still carrying a hint of the whiny tone he had just moments ago.
Wade’s expression softens, and his voice takes on a more contrite tone as he apologizes. “I’m sorry,” he says, his words sounding sincere. “Can we talk?” You let out a sigh, the exhaustion from the events of the past few days weighing on you. "Can we just forget the whole thing?" you ask, a hint of weariness in your voice. Your hand twists the key in the lock, the tumbler clicking as the door unlocks.
Wade nods sheepishly, his initial excitement and hope dimmed by your firm rejection. "I’m over it," you say, your tone unequivocal, leaving no room for argument. "I get your heart was in the right place," you add, acknowledging his good intentions, "but it’s not going to happen."
Wade’s face falls slightly, the reality of your words sinking in. He rubs the back of his neck, a mixture of chagrin and disappointment etched on his features. "So this is it?" he asks, his voice tinged with resignation. “Mom and Dad are just going to live on opposite sides of the hall? Which weekends do you have me?”
Wade’s attempt at humor falls flat as you level a warning glare at him. He swallows the words that are about to escape his lips, sensing that you're not in the mood for jokes. “Wade,” you say firmly, “stop.”
Wade’s eyes widen in surprise, and his voice carries a hint of disbelief. "So you’re just going to act like he doesn’t exist?" he repeats, clearly struggling to comprehend your stance. You offer a nonchalant shrug, a hint of resignation in your gesture. "What's the difference between that and what I've been doing for years?" you reply bluntly. The statement hangs in the air, carrying the weight of all the years where you’ve effectively lived your life without the Wolverine’s existence.
You decide not to engage in further discussions or confrontations. Instead, you make a conscious decision to distance yourself from the source of your pain. With a firm resolve, you inform Wade that from now on, the movie nights would have to take place in your apartment, and you would not step foot in his again. Despite the strain in your relationship, you find solace in the familiar routine of your karaoke nights together.
In your daily routine, you occasionally cross paths with Logan, offering a polite, friendly greeting each time. But you never go beyond surface-level pleasantries, not allowing yourself to get close or engage in anything beyond a short exchange. Despite the casual veneer, there’s an underlying tension hanging in the air, a silent, unspoken understanding between you that keeps your interactions brief and fleeting.
Wade lets out a hearty laugh as he closes the door, a sense of lightheartedness in his tone. He quickly peels off his pick glasses and matching feathered robe, discarding them on the floor with a carefree gesture. Wade struts into the kitchen, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes and a wide smile on his face. “What. A. NIGHT!” he crows, his voice filled with exhilaration and amusement. He makes a beeline for the refrigerator, clearly on a mission to satisfy his appetite.
You follow in Wade’s wake, your movements a little unsteady from the evening’s indulgences. A wide grin spreads across your face as you laugh softly, your carefree demeanor matching Wade’s exuberant mood.
Logan reclines in the bed, relishing the comfort and space it provides, a stark contrast to the cramped sofa he's been using. He can't deny that the proximity to your apartment is both a curse and a comfort. The sounds of your movements and mutterings occasionally drifted into his ears, reminding him of your presence just beyond the thin walls.
You glance around the apartment, a sense of caution and wariness in your eyes. You scan each corner diligently, double-checking that Logan is nowhere to be found.
Wade watches your anxious movements with amusement, the sight of your constant checking drawing a knowing smirk from him. "Calm down, would you?" he chuckles, his voice filled with a mixture of reassurance and wry humor. "I don’t think he’s even here,” he asserts, echoing your internal suspicions.
You turn to Wade, your expression still a swirl of irritation. “I just can’t be around him.” Wade looks at you with slight concern, sensing the depth of your feelings. "Why do you hate him so much?" You roll your eyes. “I don’t hate him. Not at all.” Far from it.
Wade raises an eyebrow curiously. "Then why are you avoiding him like he's the plague?" “Because… he’s not him. It’s a completely different Logan, and he’s not mine.” Wade frowns, understanding dawning on his features. "I see... So, it's not really about him, it's about what he represents, right? This different Logan, he reminds you of what you've lost, doesn’t he?” “Everything on that man is the same as my Logan.” Wade nods thoughtfully. "He's still a different Logan at the core, right? His past, his memories, his experiences. All are probably vastly different from your Logan."
You let out a frustrated huff, the memory of the laundry room incident replaying incessantly in your mind. It’s a constant loop, each time filling you with the same mix of conflicting emotions. Frustration, confusion, sadness, anger, and a strange, inexplicable longing.
The constant presence of his very essence, his reminders, the memory of his eyes, and his voice, it's all too much to bear. The question fills you with an equal amount of irritation and desire.
Fate, in its twisted and perverse way, always seems to find a way to disrupt the peace of your life. It’s an unsettling thought, the notion that there is some invisible force at play, guiding your steps towards unexpected and often unwelcome events. The very thought sends a shiver down your spine as if a dark cloud was hovering over you, ready to burst at any moment.
You are abruptly interrupted by three hard knocks on your door, the sound cutting through the room like a blade. The unexpected interruption sends a jolt of surprise through you, causing you to jump slightly.
As you swing open the door, your expression is a mixture of surprise and annoyance at the unexpected visitor. Standing outside your door is Logan, his presence unannounced and utterly unexpected. Your eyes narrow suspiciously, your brow furrowing as you take in his unexpected appearance.
“Hey…” Logan's greeting hangs in the air, a subtle but loaded word charged with a multitude of unspoken meanings. His single syllable pierces through the silence, his voice low and gravelly, a stark contrast to the casual familiarity that had once existed between them. The tension between you is palpable, the briefness of his greeting only serving to heighten the underlying discomfort.
You respond with a simple "Hi," an undertone of confusion seeping into your voice. The casualness of your reply doesn’t fully mask the underlying surprise and wariness you feel at his unexpected presence. Your eyes search his face, trying to gauge his reasons for coming to your door, but his stoic expression gives nothing away.
Logan’s piercing gaze meets yours, studying your reaction like he’s trying to discern something from your expression. He leans casually against the doorframe, his body language relaxed yet the intensity in his eyes betrays his inner thoughts. “You don’t happen to have a key to Wade’s apartment, do you?”
You ponder for a second before shaking your head. “Kept telling him to give me one, but he claims there would never be a situation dire enough to grant me a key to his evil lair. His words.” Logan nods, a hint of irritation crossing his features at the mention of Wade. "Yeah, that sounds like his dumbass," he mutters under his breath.
In a surprise offer, and against your better judgment, you find yourself opening the door wider, a silent invitation passing between you. The words escape your lips before you can think them through. "Do you want to come in and wait for him?" Logan stands there, stoic and unreadable, his expression betraying nothing of his thoughts. It's a risky move, but somehow, it feels right.
“Sure. Better than the hallway.” Logan steps inside your apartment, his broad shoulders nearly filling the doorway as he brushes past you. He glances around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings, the unfamiliar feeling of comfort enveloping him.
The air in the room is thick with unspoken tension as Logan surveys your apartment. He moves further into the living space, his steps measured as he takes in the details of your home. Some of Laura’s belongings were scattered around. His eyes stop on a small photo. He picked up a framed photo of you and your Logan, his gaze lingering on it for a moment before setting it down gingerly.
Logan glances over at you, an eyebrow raised in mild surprise at your observations. He takes a seat in one of the armchairs, his large frame seeming out of place in the small, feminine living room. “good looking guy.”
“I think you’re younger than he was.” You say as you sit back down on your couch. The sadness in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Logan, his eyes flickering over to you as you sit on the couch. He says nothing, his gaze steady. The room is filled with a heavy silence for several moments, only broken by the faint sounds of the city outside.
"Listen," you begin, your voice firm and resolute, "I know this is weird. I have a lot of memories with my Logan and then you show up and Wade tries to play Cupid, and he just manages to mess up everybody’s life. Anyway, what I’m trying to get to is… I don’t expect anything from you. You know? You’re not him, and it's not your responsibility to pick up the pieces." Your words escape your lips in a heartfelt spill, filled with a mixture of resolve and vulnerability.
There's a slight edge of irritation in his voice as he speaks, a hint of jealousy peeking through his usual stoicism. He shifts in the armchair, his gaze never leaving yours, his intense eyes studying you intently.
"I know I’m not him," he repeats, his words punctuated with a hint of bitterness. "But is it wrong… if I want to be?" Logan’s words hang in the air, the weight of his admission palpable in the room. He stares at you, his guard down for a brief moment, revealing a vulnerability few people ever saw. He suddenly realizes what he's said, and his expression quickly hardens again, the tough exterior he's built up over the years returning.
Logan leans back in the armchair, his muscles tensing as he considers your question. He looks away, his gaze focused on the wall opposite him. For a few moments, he doesn’t respond, his jaw clenched as if struggling to find the right words. Finally, he speaks, his voice gravelly and low. “I see the pain in your eyes. The way you look at me, the way you avoid me. I don’t want to be the constant reminder of what you’ve lost.”
He wanted to be a reminder of what you had gained – the opportunity for love a second time around. It was a powerful reminder of the significance he held in your life, the second chance at happiness you had been given. The complexity of emotions swirling within you was palpable – gratitude, sadness, hope, and bittersweet nostalgia.
The room seems to shrink, the air suddenly feeling thicker as Logan meets your gaze. The intensity in his eyes is matched by the passion brewing inside you, a burning desire that you can't quite explain. You miss the scent of him, the way he held you, the way his skin felt against yours.
He seems to see this in your expression, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard, a mixture of understanding and restraint behind his eyes. “Then what do you want to be, Logan?”
Logan hesitates, the words he wants to say caught in his throat. He stands up, closing the gap between you in a few swift strides. He towers over you, his body casting a shadow over your seated form. He leans down, his eyes never leaving yours, searching for something.
“I don’t want to be a reminder,” he mutters, his voice a low rumble. “I want to be something more.” The tension in the air is thick as you look up at him, your heart pounding against your chest. He’s so close, the heat of his body radiating through the thin material of his clothes. You can smell the familiar scent of leather, mixed with something uniquely Logan.
He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, a gentle touch that sends shivers down your spine. “I want to pick up the pieces.”
Just as you're about to give in, the sound of Wade's apartment door slamming shut jolts you back to the present. The moment of vulnerability passes, and you take a step back, your emotions overflowing. "Wade’s back," you murmur, the words tinged with both relief and resignation. "You...you should go," you repeat, your voice firmer now. The finality in your tone leaves no room for argument.
He looks down at you for a brief moment, as if he wants to say more, but then he sighs and takes a step back. “Right,” he mutters, his voice hoarse and rough. He starts towards the door, pausing just before he exits, his hand on the handle. He looks back at you one last time, a mix of regret and frustration in his eyes, before disappearing out into the hall.
You toss yourself onto the couch, letting out a frustrated groan. You can’t believe you nearly did that – opening yourself up to more hurt and suffering. A wave of self-consciousness washes over you as you berate yourself for coming so close to making a mistake. "What an idiot," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief at your momentary weakness.
Logan couldn’t shake thoughts of you from his mind – he was consumed by your memory, preoccupied with you for every single hour. He couldn't help but feel envious of your late Logan, frustrated that he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t enough to capture your heart. He couldn't understand why you’d willingly choose to stay single instead of considering another chance with the love of your life, a chance that he believed was being thrown away so carelessly.
It was another late night for laundry, and there you were, perched on top of the dryer, the hum of the machine beneath you providing a soothing backdrop as you absentmindedly scrolled through your phone. The sound of the door opening breaks the quiet monotony, causing you to look up from your phone with curiosity.
You look up to see Logan leaning against the doorway, a smirk on his face at the sight of you. You raise an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in your voice as you ask, "This going to become a habit of yours?" implying that this late-night laundry with the surprise drop-by visit was becoming a recurring event.
Logan chuckles at your question, a charming smile playing on his lips. He steps further into the room, his body moving with a grace that suggests he doesn’t take up space, he claims it. He leans against the laundry machine next to you, his presence now closer, a comfortable proximity.
The confidence is evident in his demeanor, his movements fluid and self-assured – a few heavy drinks in, his inhibitions, perhaps, lowered just enough to cast aside any concerns about the potential consequences. He leans nonchalantly against the laundry machine, his eyes fixed on you, his gaze steady and unwavering.
"Never was good enough," Logan begins, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness. "At anything I did." He pauses, his words hanging heavy in the air before continuing. "Not even good enough for you, " he adds, a hint of hurt in his voice. "Even when all you've wanted is in front of you. You still don't want me." The pain of rejection is apparent in his words as if the reality of your lack of desire for him has become a constant source of self-doubt.
You can't believe what you're hearing. "Where the hell are you getting all that?” you reply, your words laced with a mixture of disbelief and anger. Your words cut through the air, sharp and impassioned. "Don’t you dare try to understand," you continue, your voice filled with a mix of anger and desperation. "You have no idea what I want. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to live here with you? You’re every bit as enticing as him, if not more, and it’s driving me insane." Each word is a revelation, a raw expression of the desire that burns within you, the desire you've been trying to suppress.
Your words hang in the air for a moment, the raw emotion behind them echoing in the small laundry room. You continue, your voice cracking slightly with the weight of your confession, "You have no clue how much I want you, how I crave to feel you. It's a constant battle, trying to resist the pull you have on me, just like he did, and it's driving me to madness."
In a split second, Logan closes the gap between you, his hand grabbing the back of your neck with a possessive firmness, pulling you down towards him. His lips meet yours, the kiss is hard and hungry, a raw expression of the desire he’s been bottling up. You’re still perched on top of the dryer, the unexpected move catching you off guard. The kiss deepens, his hands gripping your hips, pulling your body closer to him. The room fills with the sounds of your harsh breaths and the rustle of cloth. Despite the shock, you find yourself responding, your lips moving against his in a desperate dance of want and need.
With a mix of finesse and fervor, Logan's rough hands explore the expanse of your thighs, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. They continue their journey upward, tracing the lines of your waist, his fingers slightly digging into your flesh, leaving no doubt about the intensity of his need.
He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing a path down your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. He plants gentle nips and kisses along your sensitive skin, each touching a brand that leaves you craving more of his touch.
The moment is charged with intense hunger as you run your hands along his frame, seeking to free him from the confines of his clothing. Your touch is frantic and impatient, a reflection of the burning desire that is now consuming you both.
There's no turning back now, you're both already too far gone, lost in the whirlwind of desire and need. You might as well give yourselves over completely, and dive into the depths of these overwhelming emotions together.
You run a hand to his jeans, palming his hardening length. He pulls away and watches as you start unbuttoning his jeans, your movements deliberate and confident.
He watches, transfixed, as you free his thick, throbbing cock from its confines. It stands proudly, already glistening with pre-cum. Logan groans as you pump his length just a few times before sinking to your knees.
Taking his length into your mouth, you feel its warmth and taste the salty pre-cum. You moan around his shaft, sending vibrations through him, and he groans in response. Your hands cup his heavy balls, gently massaging them as you take him deeper, your throat welcoming his girth.
Logan's hands tangle in your hair, guiding your pace as he thrusts into your mouth. "That's it, baby," he grunts, his hips moving in rhythm with your sucking. "You've got a talent for this."
You feel his fingers tighten in your hair, and he pulls you off his cock with a wet pop. "Fuck, that's so good, but I want more," he says, his voice thick with lust. He pulls you up, pressing you against the cold metal of a washing machine, the hard surface biting into your skin.
His strong hands grasp your hips, lifting you to sit on the dryer again, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles behind his back. Logan pulls your shorts to the side, pleasantly surprised you’re not wearing panties.
Logan's cock hovers at your entrance, teasing you, as he grinds his hips, rubbing his length against your wet pussy. "Please..." you beg, your voice breathless. "Logan, I need you inside me."
"Oh, you'll get what you need," he promises, his voice dark and rough. With one swift thrust, he impales you on his cock, filling you. You gasp at the sudden invasion, your body stretching to accommodate his size.
Logan begins to move, his powerful thrusts driving into you with relentless force. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the laundry room, mingling with your moans and his grunts. He fucks you hard, his hips slamming against yous, driving his cock deep within you.
Your hands grip the edges of the dryer, knuckles turning white as you try to withstand the intensity of his pounding. "Fuck, Logan!" you cry out, your body trembling on the verge of orgasm.
"That's it, cum for me," he urges, his voice strained. "Let go, baby." His words push you over the edge, and you cry out as your orgasm rips through you. Your pussy clenches around his shaft, milking him as waves of pleasure wash over you. Logan grunts, his body tensing as he spills his hot seed deep inside you, filling you with his cum.
You both remain frozen, breathless, for a moment, before he gently lowers you to the ground. Your legs feel weak as you stand, leaning against the washing machine for support.
Logan’s smirk is a reflection of his satisfaction, a confident expression that speaks volumes about his pent-up desire. "I’ve been wanting to do that for a while," he admits, the truth finally spilling from his lips. You shake your head in agreement, a soft smile playing on your lips. "I think we both needed that," you reply, a sigh escaping your lips as you adjust your disheveled attire.
Logan’s touch is tender and caring as he brushes your cheeks with his thumbs, his gaze fixed on your face with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. His eyes search yours, attempting to read the conflicting emotions swirling within you.
Logan’s voice is low and sincere as he utters his words, his eyes fixed on yours. "I meant what I said,” he repeats, his tone firm and resolute. “I want to pick up the pieces. I want to be here for you, be what he wasn’t."
A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you return his gaze, his words hanging in the air between you. You move closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips once more before whispering against his skin, "You’re going to need a lot of glue for this broken heart, Howlett." The teasing tone was laced with a hint of vulnerability, a subtle invitation to mend the pieces back together.
Yes, he wasn't your first Logan, but he was damn well going to make sure he was your last. He held your face in his hands, his gaze unwavering, his voice tinged with a mix of determination and promise as he reiterated his words. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here.”
#worst logan#logan wolverine#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#logan howlet smut#worst wolverine#wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#hugh jackman fanfic#hugh jackman
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At his worst
Summary: Reader stays by Logan during his worst and is unable to be pushed away by him
Request
Masterlist
Warnings: negative self talk
-
The night was cold, unusually quiet for the dingy apartment Wolverine had holed himself up in. After all these years, Logan was used to the silence, comfortable with it even. But something was different tonight. His mind, normally sharp, was dulled by memories that felt like jagged knives cutting through his thoughts. Jean. Rogue. Charles. All the people he had failed. All the people he had lost. The city buzzed below, lights flickering against the darkness, but Logan didn’t care. He slumped against the couch, cradling a half-empty bottle of whiskey, his usual attempt to drown out the pain. But even alcohol couldn’t numb the guilt that weighed on him. He was a weapon designed to hurt, to destroy, and now it seemed like everyone close to him suffered the same fate. A quiet knock broke through the silence, so soft it might’ve gone unnoticed by anyone else, but not him. Logan’s senses were always on high alert. He sighed, part of him wanting to ignore it. He didn’t want company tonight, didn’t deserve it.
Another knock, a little louder this time. Persistent. “Logan?" A familiar voice called softly from the other side. Your voice. His chest tightened. You were the only person in his life now who didn’t seem to fear him. The only person who could look past the claws, the rage, the blood. Why? He could never figure it out. He didn’t deserve you. Heaving himself up, Logan tossed the whiskey bottle aside and trudged to the door. He didn’t bother with a shirt, his muscles tense beneath the scars that marked his body, a roadmap of violence. Opening the door, he looked down at you. You stood there, bundled in a jacket, worry etched on your face. “Hey” you said gently, eyes scanning his face like you could read everything going on inside. “Shouldn’t be here” Logan growled, his voice rough, hoarse. “Ain’t a good time”. You didn’t move. Instead, you tilted your head, eyes soft but unwavering. “When is a good time with you, Logan?”. That made him pause, and for a moment, he almost smirked. Almost. But he was too tired for that tonight. Instead, he stepped back, silently allowing you in.
You didn’t hesitate, walking past him and into the small apartment, your eyes trailing over the chaos. Half-eaten meals, broken furniture, and the unmistakable stench of whiskey lingering in the air. You turned to face him, crossing your arms. “You’ve been drinking”. Logan let out a low grunt, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest. “What else is new?”. “You know, you don’t have to push me away every time things get bad” you said, your voice soft but firm. “You’re not alone, Logan”. A sharp laugh escaped him. “Ain’t that simple. People around me... they don’t stay for long. They get hurt. Or worse”.
You took a step closer, closing the space between you. “I’m not them. I’m not going anywhere”. Logan’s jaw tightened, the weight of your words pressing on him. He wanted to believe you, but he knew better. He’d seen it too many times, the look in people’s eyes when they realized just how dangerous he was. How broken. “You don’t know what you’re talking about” he said, the edge in his voice returning. “I’ve done things... terrible things. You don’t wanna see me at my worst”. But you didn’t flinch. You never did. Reaching out, you touched his arm, and for a second, Logan almost pulled away, afraid of your kindness, of the warmth in your touch. But he didn’t. “I’ve seen enough, Logan. I’ve seen you fight, seen the pain you carry. And guess what? I’m still here” you said, your voice unwavering. “Because I care. Because I know that, no matter how much you try to push people away, you deserve to be loved. You deserve to be understood”.
He shook his head, fists clenching at his sides. “I ain’t someone you can fix. I’m not someone who’s ever gonna be... whole”. You stepped even closer, eyes locking with his. “I’m not trying to fix you. I’m here to stay. I’ll take the good, the bad, and everything in between. Even when you’re at your worst”. Logan’s throat tightened, emotions bubbling up that he hadn’t let surface in years. He hated how vulnerable he felt right now, how exposed. But at the same time, there was a small part of him that wanted to believe you. That wanted to trust that you wouldn’t leave like the others.
“Why?” The word slipped out, raw and filled with the pain he had been holding back for so long. “Why would you stay?”. You smiled softly, your hand sliding down to take his, your fingers warm against his cold skin. “Because I see you, Logan. The real you. Not the weapon. Not the Wolverine. Just... you”. For the first time in what felt like forever, Logan didn’t know what to say, he had no comeback. His heart pounded in his chest, his walls crumbling down around him as he looked into your eyes, seeing nothing but honesty. No fear. No judgment. Just... acceptance. A shaky breath escaped him, and before he could stop himself, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. You didn’t resist, wrapping your arms around him, your head resting against his chest as you stood there in the middle of the mess, in the middle of his chaos.
For the first time in a long time, Logan felt something other than anger, other than pain. It was small, fragile even, but it was there. A flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to be alone. Maybe, with you by his side, he didn’t have to be afraid of his worst anymore. And for the first time in a long time, Logan allowed himself to believe that.
-
Thank you for reading!
#blog#fanfiction#fandom#x reader#x you#x y/n#disney#marvel x reader#marvel#dovesdreaming#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine#wolverine x reader#logan wolverine#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#hugh jackman#hugh jackman x reader#marvel imagine#marvel fluff#mcu x reader#mcu fluff#mcu imagine#mcu fandom#marvel mcu#mcu
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Logan idea- reader has very similar traumas I.e trained as a weapon, memories wiped, has bad nightmares, slower aging, modified healing.
They find healing with the X-men and get close with Logan because of their similarities the reader is more sunshine to Logan’s I don’t know if pessimism is the right word. They go on a mission, goes missing for a period, and when they show back up they’ve been brain washed and are fighting the X-men but Logan recognizes them instantly. And does the whole this isn’t you sweetheart while taking a beating cause they can both kick ass and that’s one of the things Logan loves about them. He gets the mask off of them cause he realizes that’s part of the issue for them not recognizing everyone and then it’s hurt/comfort them feeling horrible for getting caught and Logan feeling horrible for letting them get caught. And even though they hadn’t been together before just very close friends/testing the waters this brings them together cause they realize they want to be with each other after some healing and Logan be soft with the reader while they heal from the brainwashing fiasco.
I dunno I love the idea of Logan feeling horrible about not being able to rescue the reader and then recognizing them fighting his allies and helps bring them back from the void. I’m a sucker for two people relating to eachother having a friendship that a hard time brings out their true feelings with lots of fluff and healing cause Logan understands that.
this made me think of some of my favourite wolverine scenes from different media so it's all inspired by that i guess. hope you like it :3
warnings: angst. mind control. reader presumed dead. swearing. violence. hospital-setting. guilt.
Masterlist ~ X-Men Requests are Open
‘What the hell are you doing? We have to go back!’ Logan started yelling as soon as he realised you hadn’t made it back to the jet.
‘It’s too late,’ Scott shouted back at him from the pilot seat. ‘We won’t make it.’
‘She won’t make it,’ Logan retorted, already lunging at the cockpit, claws itching to come out. And they would have if it wasn’t for the cold hand touching his skin. He looked up to meet Rogue’s eyes. They were filled with sadness–pity– as she held his hand. He tried to pull out of her hold, but the longer it went on, the more frail he felt. Everything around him began to spin, his vision blurred until it all turned black, and his head hit the steel flooring of the plane.
⮿
Rogue had held on for too long. That much she had realised as soon as Logan had passed out.
It took a whole day for him to come by, but not even her powerful narcosis had suppressed his rage. As soon as Logan had woken up and his senses had felt Scott’s presence, he was on his feet, grabbing the team leader by the collar of his shirt, pushing him against
‘You proud of yourself, punk?’ he spat in Scott’s face. ‘Got your sorry ass out all safe and sound, huh?’
‘There was no other way. We would have all died if we had stayed, Logan,’ Storm clawed at his shoulders to pull him back, but none of her methods sufficed. ‘This was the only way.’
‘No the fuck, it wasn’t!’ He saw red with anger. ‘We could have saved her.’ He had pulled out of saying that one word at the last minute. I could have saved her. That was the only thing on his mind for weeks. How you still would have been there if it wasn’t for him.
The plan had been simple; that much had been clear in your face as you suggested it the last time he saw you. But he never should have gone along with it. He never should have let you go on your own. If he had just stayed— ran after you— maybe…
A pitiful portion of him still kept up hope. That one day, the heavy doors to the mansion would open, and you would stand in the middle. Perhaps a bit bruised up and tired, but all there. And he would pull you into his arms like he had wanted to all those times before.
But you never did show up. Days turned into weeks turned into months, and there had been no news, no sightings. Even the Professor had stopped seeking Cerebro’s help as nothing turned up anyway, no matter how hard he looked.
⮿
His heart was in his chest as he raced through the dark corridors of the bunker complex. Logan looked around him for the way out with the least henchmen as chances of there being none were slim. He had already left a trail of bodies behind him and was ready for the next wave of men to beat into a pulp.
He turned the corner, but what he saw was the last thing he had expected.
For a second, he thought he was dreaming; perhaps it was a hallucination brought on by some chemicals they pumped into the air to get to him. It wasn’t possible. His mouth had already fallen open, ready to call out your name, but as you got into a stance of attack, eyes blank except for a fury deep inside them, Logan realised it wasn’t a dream at all. It was a bloody terror.
It was the hardest fight he had ever been in, trying to block all of your attacks while pulling himself back. He couldn’t het himself to hurt you. All he found himself doing was calling your name, but it was useless. It was you, but it wasn’t. Nothing he said seemed to matter, seemed to take any effect on you. You lunged at him, punching and kicking.
It was futile to try and argue with you, and so, against every muscle and nerve in his body screaming against it, Logan started to place his movements harder, fighting against you until you went limp in his arms. He cursed himself out as he looked down at your unconscious body, pushing some of your loose hair out of your face. But as he looked at you, he also saw that it really was you still in there. And so he didn’t waste a second thinking about it as he picked you up in his arms and ran as fast as his body could take him. Out of the tortuous underground maze and back to that godforsaken jet that had been the scene of the dreams that had plagued his mind for the past months.
⮿
Everyone had practically stopped in their tracks at the sight of you in Logan’s arms. He stumbled into the jet, nearly falling over, having had, as predicted, to deal with a number more nameless jackasses, but with you in his arms, it made beating them up a bit more challenging.
‘What—’ Storm’s eyes were nearly as pale of shock as they would have been of her powers.
‘She’s been brainwashed,’ Logan explained before anything else, ‘or controlled. I don’t know, but he’s hostile. We need to keep her down.’ He laid you down on the ground, sitting right beside you, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a deep heave, and only then he noticed the looks of everyone around him. ‘What?’
No one said a thing, but he knew what they were all thinking. For he was thinking it, too. Was it safe to bring you back home? Could whatever they had done to you be reversed, or was he just putting everyone at the school in danger by taking you back?
‘Is everyone back?’ He just said after no one had dared to say another word.
⮿
Logan didn’t know what had possessed him. Why he had suddenly grown so protective over you, but he could not stand the idea of you being alone in the hospital wing. It took nearly half a week just for Jean and the Professor to understand what had happened to you, and the treatment itself took far longer than Logan would have liked.
He didn’t know why he came to visit you every night, far outside the regular visiting hours, past when anyone would be awake to see him sneak in and sit by your side, holding your hand, hoping you could feel and hear him as the apologies spilt out of him.
‘I’m so sorry, bub.’ He kissed your knuckles. ‘I should have gone back for you. I should have–’ He stilled as you stirred in your bed.
‘Logan?’ You croaked out, throat dry and hoarse. In slight shock, Logan said nothing. You blinked and tried to find him in the darkness of the room. ‘Logan? Is that you?’
‘Yeah, it’s me.’ He chuckled softly to himself, squeezing your hand.
‘What happened?’ You tried to sit up, orientating yourself to where exactly it was that you were, but he quickly pushed at your shoulder to stay put.
‘It’s a long story, kid.’ Never before was Logan happy to be sitting in the dark as the tears he had subdued for months finally fell down his cheeks in extreme relief. ‘You uh– you’d been gone for a while.’
‘I was?’ you tried to remember, ‘I can’t recall anything. It’s all—’
‘I know.’ He kept your hand in his, rubbing your skin with his thumb. Logan knew to call for someone as soon as he saw you stir awake, but he needed this moment alone with you. Make sure you are doing alright himself. Besides, the professor was probably already on his way.
‘It’s okay. You’re alright now.’ He continued, happy you had finally come back home.
the end.
thank you for reading 💗
if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗
#logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine fanfiction#logan howlett x reader#x-men fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#angst#fluff#imagine#request#logan howlett fanfic#wolverine#wolverine fanfic#x men#x men fanfiction
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Preference: They accidentally hurt you
Titans Characters X Fem!Reader
Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Gar Logan, Conner Kent, Kory Anders, Donna Troy & Hank Hall.
Dick Grayson:
You and Dick had gotten into an argument and it was getting heated. He was risking the team's life by making stupid and reckless decisions, or at least that's what they were in your opinion.
Without thinking, you yell, "You don't have to risk everyone's lives just because Jason died and you think it's your fault!"
SLAP!
Dick's hand makes contact with your face as he slaps you in a fit of rage. The room seems to freeze as Dick's eyes widen with horror at the realisation of what he's just done. Your hand instinctively reaches to your cheek, the hurt in your eyes making your boyfriend feel even more guilty.
Dick immediately recoils, his expression shifting from anger to deep regret. "Fuck. Y/N, I... I didn't mean to," he stammers, his voice filled with remorse. He takes a step back, grappling with the weight of his actions. His eyes search yours, pleading for forgiveness, but the pain in your gaze is palpable.
Dick takes a hesitant step forward. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Y/N, I'm so fucking sorry," he murmurs, regret etched across his face. He reaches out to cup your cheek, however, fear grips you, and you instinctively shrink back, avoiding his touch.
"I need some space," you finally manage to say, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and sadness. He nods solemnly, understanding he fucked up badly.
-
Jason Todd:
You and Jason were training and since you were still fairly new to the team, you thought it'd be nice to train with Jason as you're the closest with him.
You're meant to block his hits but as the bo staff heads your way, you hesitate for some reason and react too late, resulting in Jason accidentally hurting you as the staff strikes you. It's just a small mistake and it doesn't hurt too badly but he immediately rushes to your side.
"Shit. Babe, are you okay?" His concerned expression mirrors his regret. You give him a small, reassuring smile, saying, "Yeah, I'm fine. It's probably just a small bruise anyway. Let's just get back to training."
He shakes his head, still looking guilty even though it wasn't his fault. "No, let's just finish here. You shouldn't keep training if you're hurt. We can always train tomorrow," Jason insists, genuine concern in his eyes. You know there's no point in arguing with him, so you just sigh and nod.
-
Gar Logan:
You and Gar were alone in the Titans Tower, where Gar was struggling to stay in his human form. He was incredibly upset (you didn't know why) and his intense emotions were causing him to shapeshift into an animal, which he was trying to prevent.
"Y/N.. You need to.. go," he whispers, his voice strained as he tries to fight against the transformation. Concern etched across your face, you refuse to leave his side. You assure him, "Gar, I'm not leaving you alone like this."
You try to reach out to touch his trembling hand, but before you can make contact, Gar involuntarily shifts into a green tiger. In his tiger form, Gar loses control and accidentally swipes at you with his claws. The scratch isn't too deep, but it's enough to draw blood and sting, causing you to step back in shock. Gar, now more distressed, manages to regain control, turning back into his human form as he apologizes frantically.
"Fuck, Y/N, I'm so sorry. I- I lost control. I didn't mean to hurt you," he stammered, rushing to your side, panic etched across his face.
You assess the scratch on your arm, trying to downplay the pain, not wanting to make him feel worse. "Gar, it's okay. It wasn't your fault. Besides, it doesn't even hurt that bad."
Gar, tormented by guilt, searches for a first aid kit in the Tower. As he tends to your wound, you insist that it wasn't his fault, attempting to calm him in his distressed state. While Gar is patching up your wound, you notice a mixture of guilt and fear in his eyes. You gently take his hand and reassure him, "Gar, accidents happen. Don't blame yourself." Despite your comforting words, Gar remains visibly distraught, haunted by the fear of potentially causing you harm again.
-
Conner Kent:
Conner had just returned from a mission with the Titans. He looked exhausted but relieved as he walked through the door. You greeted him with a warm smile, knowing how tiring his superhero responsibilities could be.
As Conner hugged you, his thoughts wandered to what happened during the mission. He started to get lost in his thoughts, and his strength momentarily slipped out of his control. He squeezed you too tightly, causing you to wince as the force of the hug became too much. You were left in a little pain, and probably with a bruise. Conner looked concerned as you pulled away, realising what he had just done.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I don't know what happened. I started thinking about the mission and then I just..." Conner rambled, trying to explain and apologize to you. But you interrupted him and said, "Conner, it's okay. I know you didn't mean to. Don't worry about it." No matter how much you try to reassure Conner, however, he still feels guilty and blames himself for hurting you, even if it was accidental.
For the next couple of weeks, he's extra careful around you and way more gentle. He also tries to find ways to make it up to you; he doesn't need to though because you know he didn't mean to do what he did.
-
Hank Hall:
You and Hank had been watching a football match on TV together, enjoying the rare day off. As Hank headed to the kitchen to grab you both a drink and some snacks, an idea sparked in your mind. You decided you were going to scare him; it was a fairly innocent idea.
Within a couple of seconds, you start to tiptoe after him, planning to playfully surprise him. You just wanted to see his reaction so you could make fun of him if he screamed like a girl (you never know, he might). As you reach the kitchen door, you take a deep breath, preparing to unleash your surprise.
However, as you sneak up behind him and scream, Hank's reflexes kick in. In an instant, he spins around, his combat instincts taking over. Before either of you can even realise what's happening, his hand shoots out and strikes you right in the face. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel the sudden impact.
Time seems to freeze for a moment as you both register what just happened. Hank's eyes widen in shock and horror as he sees you wince from the unintentional blow. Concern fills Hank's eyes as he drops whatever he is holding in his hands, rushing to your side. "Oh fuck, babe, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" he blurts out, panic evident in his voice.
You hold your nose, pretty sure you have a nosebleed. "I'm... okay." As the initial shock wears off, you can't help but let out a nervous laugh. "At least now we know that your instincts are top-notch," you quip, trying to lighten the mood despite the pain you're feeling. You move your hand away from your face, revealing a trickle of blood from your nose. Hank winces, guilt written all over his face.
He quickly grabs a tissue from the nearby counter, handing it to you with a mix of concern and remorse in his eyes. "I didn't mean to... I just thought..." Hank stammers, struggling to find the right words to express his regret. You take the tissue and give him a reassuring smile, realizing it was just an unfortunate accident.
"It's okay, Hank. It was my idea to scare you like that so if anything, it's my fault," you say, dabbing at your nose. Despite the pain, you can't help but appreciate the genuine worry in his eyes.
-
Kory Anders:
You and the Titans were preparing for another battle against an intimidating villain who was threatening the city of San Francisco. You were standing by Kory's side, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement. Tonight, the stakes were higher than ever before. The villain, known as Mother Mayhem, was ready to unleash chaos upon the city. Kory's eyes were glowing with determination as she walked towards the impending threat. You followed closely, aware of the danger that awaited you.
As the confrontation continues, Mother Mayhem launches a devastating attack that catches both you and Kory off guard. In a moment of panic, Kory's powers surge uncontrollably, and a burst of energy erupts from her, unintentionally striking you. The impact sends you flying to the ground and pain radiates through your body.
Kory's eyes widen in horror as she realises what just happened. She rushes to your side, leaving the rest of the Titans to deal with the threat. Her concern is evident in every step. "I-I'm so sorry," she stammered, kneeling beside you. "I didn't mean to hurt you." Despite the pain, you manage a weak smile, reaching out to reassure her. "It's okay, Kory. Accidents happen. Besides, we have a more important matter at hand," you say, referring to the villain you're currently fighting.
"I promise, I'll control my powers better next time," she vows, gently cradling you in her arms. She then stops to think, unsure of whether you should get back to the fight in your condition. "Are you sure you want to fight? I don't think that's the best idea for you right now, Y/N."
You nod, determination flickering in your eyes despite the pain. "I'll be fine, Kory. Just a little shaken, but I can still help. We need to stop her before things get worse." Reluctantly, Kory lets you go, her worry etched across her face. She stands up, taking a moment to make sure you're stable before rejoining the battle.
-
Donna Troy:
You and Donna were strolling through through the dimly lit alleyways of the city. As you turned a corner, a group of menacing thugs emerged from the shadows, surrounding you both. Donna's grip on your hand tightened instinctively as she stepped forward, ready to defend you from the impending threat.
Donna's eyes narrow, her instincts kicking in. She swiftly reaches for her lasso, the golden glow illuminating the dark alley. But you find yourself in the line of fire without even noticing. A sudden movement from one of the thugs causes you to stumble, and in an attempt to protect you, Donna swings her lasso with lightning speed. However, the unexpected jolt of the situation results in her accidentally striking you instead of the intended target.
Time seems to slow as the golden rope wraps around you, the energy coursing through your body. A surge of pain shoots through your veins, and you gasp as the unexpected impact takes you by surprise. Donna's eyes widen in horror as she realises her mistake, immediately releasing the lasso. The thugs seem to take this as a chance to run and escape. Stunned and in pain, you stagger backwards, clutching the area where the lasso struck you. Donna rushes to your side, her concern evident in her eyes. "Fuck. Y/N, I'm so sorry," she murmurs, her voice filled with regret.
As Donna checks on you, you assure her that you're okay, though the pain still lingers. The two of you decide to go back to her apartment to assess the situation and tend to your injuries. Donna's guilt is palpable, but you understand it was an accident in the heat of the moment. Together, you make your way back, Donna keeping a protective arm around you.
-
#dick grayson#jason todd#gar logan#conner kent#hank hall#kory anders#donna troy#dc titans#preference#dick grayson x reader#jason todd x reader#gar logan x reader#conner kent x reader#hank hall x reader#kory anders x reader#donna troy x reader#nightwing#red hood#robin#beast boy#superboy#hawk#starfire#wonder girl
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nights like this (logan howlett x gn reader)
summary: plagued by memories of his ex-lover, logan seeks out their counterpart for comfort. author's note: hey y'all, i hope you're all doing well! i've been simmering on this one for awhile but uni has gotten in the way so it took some time to finish. i'm sorry if the ending feels abrupt... i again blame uni for stealing mental energy from me, lol. anyways, i hope you enjoy! please feel free to send requests. i appreciate you all, stay safe! writing is purposefully in all lowercase; mildly proofread. tags: worst!logan, readers gender not mentioned, human reader (both universes), angst, comfort, happy ending word count: 2,275
nights like this
it was another sleepless night for logan. he was laying on the couch in wade’s apartment, staring at the ceiling and begrudgingly focusing on the deep ache in his chest. he felt weighted down both emotionally and physically, and despite his attempts to think of something positive, his mind kept drawing him back into the depths of his own despair.
he was replaying every horrible thing that he had ever done, the memory of his murderous rampage at the forefront. his memories were horrifyingly vivid, with his the memory of the slaughter being so strong he swore he could smell blood. he could almost feel the slick of the blood against his hands, and he remembered how he had felt the fire within him rage on at the feeling. the ache in his chest only intensified at these memories, and logan began to feel his eyes welling with tears as his mind became further crowded with guilt.
he found himself thinking of you. it was nights like this when he needed your love most. the only mildly positive thing about his ability to recall memories so vividly was that he could remember every little thing about you. he thought about how your skin had felt, how you had smelled, the perfect curve of your jaw, your unwavering kindness, and your beautiful eyes that he had loved to lose himself in. he could feel his chest beginning to ache so much it hurt, but he continued to chase his memory of you despite the discomfort.
logan had always loved you. in his universe, you had been his sun, moon, and stars. not a moment went by that he didn’t think of you. he would follow you around like a lost puppy, doing anything he possibly could to make you feel loved and appreciated. despite his longstanding rough demeanor, you had found a way to soften him. everyone in the x-mansion loved you in your own right, but they loved your positive impact on logan more. you knew how to read his soul and you encouraged him to be kinder to himself, which, in turn, made him kinder to everyone else. you made him a better man.
but as much as he loved you, and no matter how much he seemed to improve, he had always loved one thing more: hating himself.
when the x-men had been slaughtered, logan’s anger had surfaced in a way nobody had ever thought possible. he didn’t know what to do with all his misery, so he turned it into rage. the nation had watched his murderous rampage through their televisions, and the worldwide fear of mutants only intensified. if people didn’t feel safe before, they certainly didn’t now.
you had tried to call him a million times when you saw the news, pleading with him to come to your apartment, begging him to come see you, assuring you everything would be okay if he came home. you knew that the brutality of the x-men’s murders had shaken him to his core and that this anger– this rage– was nothing more than a secondary emotion. you promised him that you would take care of him, that you could get through this pain together– he just had to come home to you.
logan had seen your myriad of calls. he had read your hundreds of frantic– then loving– then desperate– then comforting– then begging texts. he had thought about calling you, but he knew he would never be able to bring himself to do it. he had sat in the woods, covered in blood, longing to crawl into your bed. he felt jagged, and he ached for your softness. but your opposing personalities were what pained him so deeply. he had committed a horrible crime, and no matter how much he wanted to believe that you meant it when you said you could make everything okay, he knew that you couldn’t. he would have to accept that he had ruined everything.
in his heart, logan knew that you could ease some of his pain. he knew that seeing you, even for a moment, would bring him some relief. he knew you couldn’t make everything okay, but you would at least bring him some semblance of joy in the wake of his grief. but he also knew that he didn’t deserve it. logan had never thought himself deserving of you in the first place, but now he knew that he definitely wasn’t. not only did he not deserve you, but you didn’t deserve him. you didn’t deserve to be responsible for such a monster of a man.
he had messaged you: “i’m sorry, i can’t do this. i hope things work out for you. i’m sorry” before blocking your number.
even now, all these years later, after saving the multiverse and finding himself again, he longed for you. he wished he could go back to your apartment and apologize a hundred times over. he would get down on his knees and beg for your forgiveness. he would smile like a schoolboy as he told you about all the great things he had done, how he had redeemed himself. he imagined you holding his face in your hands, gently stroking his stubble as you comforted him. he imagined you telling him that everything was okay, that you had waited for him all these years, that you still had the same books on your shelves, that your bedroom was still decorated the same and you still wore the same fragrance.
logan was aching for your touch more than he ever had. he considered going to wade for comfort, which he quickly realized was a horrible idea. the only thing that could make him feel better was you.
logan didn’t know how he felt about the idea that came to him then.
he thought about wade’s version of you and how you had met when they had just returned from their multiverse-saving adventure. he remembered how his heart skipped a beat when he saw you again, as beautiful as ever. logan had been pining over you since then, but part of him felt guilty for it. he didn’t know if you had ever known earth-10005’s version of logan– the “best” logan, as some might say– but he guessed that you didn’t considering how happy you seemed. you had always been kind to logan, but he couldn’t help but feel that you were slightly disappointed that the version of the wolverine that wade brought back home wasn’t as amazing as the anchor being that had died.
after your first few interactions, you seemed to start avoiding him. he hoped he hadn’t done something to upset you or drive you away, but wade had told him that you had always been a bit reserved, especially around new people. “just like i remember”, he found himself thinking. his version of you had been reserved before you two had started dating, and he hoped that maybe the same thing was happening now.
he knew that he wasn’t this world’s logan, and you weren’t his world’s you, but he wanted to wrap himself in your arms nonetheless. he considered going to your apartment just to see you, even if just for a second. he didn’t know if it would make him feel better or worse and he felt bad for even thinking about burdening this untainted version of you with his issues, but he couldn’t help himself. he groggily got up from the couch, throwing on sweatpants and a shirt before heading to see you.
—
unsurprisingly, you were surprised to see logan in your doorway so late at night.
“hey, logan,” you said groggily, a bit flustered. “are you okay?”
he looked at your face in the dim light of your apartment, taking it all in.
“yeah, yeah. i’m good,” he stopped, feeling himself hesitate. he wondered if this was a total douchebag move, waking you up in the middle of the night for his own comfort. deciding he had nothing to lose but sleep, he asked, “can i come inside?”.
you stepped aside, still half-asleep. he came in, looking around as he took his shoes off. his heart warmed at the fact that everything was more-or-less decorated the same. you had the same books, the same houseplants, the same coffee table. he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if you could also have the same feelings for him, considering how similar you were to the you that he had fucked up.
“is something wrong?” you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“no, nothing's wrong,” he said. “i just needed to… i needed someone”.
flattered that logan had come to you for comfort, you said: “oh, well i hope i can be that someone for you”.
“you always were” he thinks to himself.
“but,” you start, looking a bit dejected. “i have to work tomorrow and i really need to sleep”.
“oh,” logan says, feeling bad that he’s stealing sleep from you. “i don’t need anything special, just being here helps”.
“oh, that makes me happy!” you reply. “how about we just rest together?”
his heart warmed at the thought. seeing the faint blush on his cheeks and feeling his excitement, you giggle and start walking to your bedroom. logan follows, feeling his heart begin to glow at the chance to be close to you.
throwing back the covers, you settle into your bed. logan looked around your room, decorated just how he remembered. your bed was still snug in the corner of the room, the same desk by the window, the same faint smell of your favorite fragrance lingering in the air. logan felt like he was about to start crying at how happy it made him. he had been in your room a million times, and he could replay every memory you two had shared together here. even though logan had technically lived at the x-mansion, you had always referred to the apartment as as your guys’ home, as if you owned it together. logan had always loved that what was yours was also his. he noticed now that the only things missing from this room were his flannels you had “borrowed”, as well as the photos of the two of you posted on the walls.
you yawned, patting the space beside you on the bed.
“are you coming?” you asked.
logan looked at you, laying in your bed in your sleepwear, looking at him expectantly. he nodded, slipping into bed beside you.
you lifted your arm, inviting him to rest his head on your chest, and logan’s heart skipped a beat. you had always been kind to him, but you had never been affectionate like this. he wondered if you were being so inviting because you genuinely liked him or if you were just too tired to be closed off. either way, he nestled himself beside you, pulling up the covers.
you rested your hand on top of his head, slowly breathing in and out. he could hear your heartbeat, gentle and consistent. he closed his eyes, soaking up the purity of this moment.
“i know you need to sleep,” he said, breathing out. “but can i ask you a question?”
you giggled, chest rising. “sure, logan”
“did you ever know this world’s wolverine?”
you stopped for a moment, looking at the ceiling contemplatively.
“no, i didn’t,” you replied. “it would have been cool, though. why do you ask?”
“just curious,” he said. he couldn’t tell if knowing that made him feel better or worse– at least you couldn’t compare him to the honorable anchor being that had passed.
“did you ever know your world’s me?” you giggled. logan could tell you meant it as a joke, you didn’t expect him to have ever known you.
“funnily enough, i did” he replied, squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation. his heart rate increased and he hoped this wouldn’t ruin the moment– he didn’t want you thinking he was only there to pretend you were his version of you. he liked both versions of you, and he wasn’t in your bed to live in the world as he wanted it to be. he knew you were your own unique person, even if you were similar to the you he had loved.
“oh,” you said, surprised. monotone, you added: “that’s cool.”
logan tensed again. he couldn’t tell if you had replied monotone because you were too tired to be expressive or if you were preparing yourself to kick him out.
“what was i like?” you asked, surprising him. your fingers began running through his hair and he leaned into the familiar sensation.
“you were awesome, just like you are now,” he breathed out. “you lived in this same apartment… at least when i knew you”
“why did you stop knowing me?”
logan thought for a second.
“i did some bad stuff… cut you off. i hadn’t seen you in, i don’t know, five years?”
“oh,” you said quietly. your breath hitched as you worked up the confidence to say: “i don’t know if this is weird, but… what were we?”
logan’s breath hitched. “lovers, i guess”
you hummed. “i bet we were nice”
logan let out a low, pained laugh. “we were really nice”
“y’know,” you started after a long silence, hesitating. “i think we could be nice now, too”
logan froze, surprised. “y'think?”
“yeah,” you said, smiling. “i think that with time, we could be very, very nice… if you’re up to try”
“i would love to try,” logan smiled. “i would try with you a million times”
you hummed, content with his answer. “i think i would like that”
logan relaxed, settling into your side. he breathed a sigh of relief, reveling in the warm feeling of your affection. he drifted to sleep, the memories that plagued him replaced with the new, softer memory of getting to love you once again.
#logan x reader#wolverine x you#logan howlett fanfiction#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine x reader#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan wolverine#james logan howlett#the wolverine#james howlett
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I Bet On Losing Dogs (Poolverine)
Pairing: Wade Wilson/Logan Howlett/Worst! Wolverine
Rating: General Audience
Summary:
People always think Logan likes to fight.
But that’s just not true
Word Count: ~1k
People always think Logan likes to fight.
But that’s just not true.
He doesn’t enjoy it. Never has. Not the way they think. Logan knows what people see when they look at him. The Wolverine. A beast, an animal, a force of nature that exists solely to fight, to destroy, to tear through whatever gets in his way. And sometimes… sometimes, yeah, it feels good to let it out. When the rage inside him builds up so high he thinks he’ll drown in it, when his knuckles ache from clenching his fists so tight, when the world starts spinning too fast and all he can think about is letting those claws out, letting them slice through something just to remind himself he’s still in control—yeah, sometimes it feels necessary.
But enjoying it?
No. Never.
Logan has never liked hurting people. It’s just... it happens. And he doesn’t know why.
Sometimes, he loses his temper. The red haze comes over him, and before he knows it, someone’s on the floor, bleeding or worse, and his heart is hammering in his chest. His fists are throbbing. His head’s spinning, and there’s this sick feeling crawling up his throat, this knot of shame and regret twisting in his gut.
He wishes he could blame it all on the Wolverine—the beast that lurks inside him, the thing with claws and teeth that takes over when the world gets too loud, when the pain gets too real. He’s always been quick to say it’s not him, it’s the Wolverine. That’s the easy answer. The part of him that’s more animal than man, the part that acts on instinct, on rage, on the primal need to survive at any cost. But deep down, Logan knows the truth. He’s not just a mindless creature. He’s not some wild animal that’s out of control.
It’s him. It’s always been him.
Logan doesn’t know why he bites, why he lashes out, why everyone he cares about—everyone he loves—he ends up hurting. He’s tried to figure it out for years. It’s the same pattern, over and over. He lets someone in, lets them get too close, and then… he snaps. He gets scared, maybe, or angry, or maybe he’s just so tired of trying to hold it all together that he lets it all go. And they end up paying the price.
He can’t stand the way they look at him after. The confusion. The hurt. That moment when they realize that Logan—the person they trusted—is the same one who cut them down. He can’t explain it, can’t tell them why it happens. All he knows is that something inside him breaks, and before he knows it, he’s tearing through everything good in his life. Like he’s cursed.
He tries so damn hard not to. He tries to keep that part of himself buried, to keep the claws in check, to keep the rage bottled up. But no matter how hard he fights it, it always finds a way out.
Logan wants to believe it’s the animal in him, the Wolverine’s animalistic urges. He wants to tell himself that it’s something he can’t control, that it’s just a part of what he is. But he knows better. He’s not some mindless beast. He’s got enough years behind him to know the difference between a fight and a choice.
And that’s what scares him the most.
It’s not about fighting to survive anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time. Most of the fights he gets into, the ones that matter, aren’t about life or death—they’re about something else. Something deep. He doesn’t know if it’s the anger, or the pain, or the guilt that he’s been carrying around for more years than he can count. He just knows that something inside him is broken, and no matter how much he fights, no matter how much he tries to stay away from the people he cares about, they always end up getting hurt.
He doesn’t understand it. Doesn’t know why the people he loves seem to be the ones who catch the worst of it. They come into his life, and they see something good in him, something worth saving. And for a while, maybe he believes them. Maybe he starts to think that they’re right, that he’s not just a weapon, not just a killer. Maybe he even starts to think that he could deserve something like peace, like happiness.
But it never lasts.
Because sooner or later, he bites. He always bites. And they always bleed.
That’s what keeps him up at night. Not the faces of the people he’s fought. Not the countless lives he’s taken in the heat of battle. Not the bodies he’s left behind, the scars he’s left on the world. No, it’s the faces of the ones he loved—the ones he tried so hard to protect, only to hurt them worse than anyone else could.
He doesn’t want to be like this. He’s spent his whole life trying not to be like this. But it doesn’t matter how hard he tries to outrun it, how much distance he puts between himself and the people who care about him—it always catches up to him.
Maybe it’s in his nature. Maybe it’s just who he is.
Logan doesn’t want to be violent. He doesn’t want to hurt people. He doesn’t know why he does it, why he loses his temper, why his fists always find their way to the things that matter most. All he knows is that there’s something inside him that’s angry, something that’s been angry for as long as he can remember. And no matter how hard he fights it, no matter how many times he tells himself that he’s better than this, that he’s more than just claws and violence, it always finds a way to tear him apart.
And every time, it takes someone else down with him.
That’s the worst part.
Not the blood, not the rage, not the fighting. It’s the aftermath. It’s the quiet moments after the storm, when the dust has settled, and all that’s left is the wreckage of whatever he’s just destroyed. And there, in the middle of it all, is the person he loves—broken, bleeding, and looking at him like they don’t recognize him anymore.
Logan doesn’t know why he bites. He just knows that he does. And he hates himself for it.
He’d give anything to stop. To finally be the man they think he is, the one they believe in, the one they see when they look past the claws and the scars. But every time he tries, every time he lets himself believe that he’s more than just the Wolverine, that maybe he’s not doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again—he ends up right back where he started.
Hurting the people he loves.
And he’s scared—terrified—that one day, Wade is going to see it, too. Wade, with his big, dumb heart, his never-ending jokes, his reckless love. One day, Wade is going to look at him and realize that Logan isn’t the man he thinks he is. He’s not the hero Wade keeps saying he is. He’s not even close.
Logan knows what he is. He’s not some violent version of Wolverine, driven by animal instinct.
It’s always there, bubbling beneath the surface—the need to lash out, to hurt before he can be hurt, to bite before someone bites him.
Like tonight. Wade’s terrified face, the way he pleaded, how he sobbed in Logan’s arms... it broke something inside him. Shattered him. He had caused that. His anger, his inability to stop himself. He thought Wade could take it. Hell, he thought Wade would crack a joke, maybe laugh it off, because that’s what Wade does.
But Wade hadn’t laughed. Wade had begged.
It always finds a way out. Like he’s hardwired to destroy the people he cares about. It’s not the claws or the healing factor that make him dangerous. It’s him.
And he doesn’t know how to fix it.
Wade sees him as something better. Someone better.Wade’s always looking at him like he’s some sort of hero, like he’s more than just the violence and the blood and the pain. Wade loves him for reasons Logan can’t even begin to understand. But how long can that last? How long until Wade realizes what Logan really is?
An animal. A killer. A man who hurts to hurt.
Logan is terrified that one day, Wade’s going to wake up and see him for what he is—the man who bites because he doesn’t know how to do anything else. The man who destroys everything good that comes into his life because he’s too damn broken to keep it together. And when that day comes, when Wade finally realizes that Logan isn’t the hero he’s been pretending to be, he’ll leave.
Logan knows it. He’s seen it happen before. Everyone he loves, everyone who gets too close, ends up broken. Logan bites, and they bleed. They always bleed.
He’ll hurt Wade. It's not a matter of if, but when.Despite everything, despite his best intentions, he’ll push too hard, too far, and Wade will see him for what he is—what he’s always been—and walk away.
The truth is, Logan doesn’t want to fight. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He doesn’t want to lose Wade.
But maybe that’s who he is. Maybe he’s just built that way, doomed to destroy everything good in his life. And maybe one day, Wade will understand that. Maybe one day, Wade will look at him with fear, the same way everyone else does, and Logan will have to face the fact that he’s lost the one good thing he’s had in years.
Because Logan doesn’t know why he bites. He just knows that one day, it’ll be too much, and the man he loves will leave him behind, just like everyone else. And that day, Logan won’t be able to blame it on the Wolverine.
#poolverine#ao3 fanfic#deadpool and wolverine#fanfic rec#fanfiction#fanfic#deadpool#wolverine x deadpool#deadclaws#logan howlett#logan centric
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please. (LS2 x OP81)
logan finally has to confront his deepest want. part 3 of "changed" part 2 w/c: 968 day 33/34 of loscar posts until we get a loscar podium!!!(series masterlist) masterlist tw: swearing
You are a disappointment.
People don’t like you.
You’re an outcast.
Failure.
Logan suppresses everything he’s feeling right now: anger, rage, regret, sadness, guilt. Everything bottled up in his heart.
Pathetic.
His eyes shut tightly, but everything is clearer than crystal. All of it. Every lasting second of it feels like another shot in the heart. Every striking minute feels like salt poured into the wound. Every memory feels like a twisting dagger.
Logan starts sobbing more violently, bringing his knees up and burying his head in them. His sobs echo around the room, bouncing off the walls and back into his ears.
Worthless.
Logan whispers repeatedly, doing everything to get his thoughts away. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
His door opens.
Shit.
“Yo, Logs, I’m heading-” Alex’s voice is heard.
Logan keeps his head buried, he’s not going to let Alex see him like this.
As if this couldn’t get any worse, he hears Lando in the background. Some muffled voices but he’s with Alex.
“Mate, are you alright?” Alex’s voice softens.
Then he hears footsteps. Alex is walking closer to him, he keeps his head buried tightly, his knees press hard against his head.
Alex’s hand touches Logan’s back, which makes him flinch. He shuts his eyes tightly and breathes.
“You said this would take a few seco-” Lando’s voice can be heard, “Oh.”
Logan continues to keep his head down as Alex sits down next to him.
“Logan?”
Oscar? It’s Oscar’s voice.
Logan can feel more tears brimming, but he continues to silence his sobs.
More footsteps can be heard entering his room, the door closing afterward. Logan doesn’t react.
“You good?” Lando kneels down in front of Logan.
Logan remains stoned in his position. How’s he going to respond, what will he even say? A tear escapes his eye and drops onto the bench cushion, Logan feels a sting in his throat.
He doesn’t know where exactly Oscar is in the room right now, but he just hopes Oscar leaves soon. He cannot let Oscar see him like this, let alone let Oscar know that Logan has been crying about him.
He shuts his eyes and hopes they all leave soon.
“Logan.” Oscar says and Logan almost feels like breaking down into tears.
A few seconds of silence follows and he feels a weight lift off the cushion. Then footsteps, then the door opening, then the door closing.
“Logan.” Oscar’s repeats, “It’s just me now.”
That does not make Logan feel any better. Logan hates this. He wants to see Oscar but not like this.
Oscar clears his throat and slides Logan’s phone under his knees so he sees it. His fatal mistake.
“You’re crying about me.” Oscar deapans.
Straightforward as usual.
Now what? You’re pathetic Logan. You suck Logan.
More thoughts fog up his head. Possible outcomes, all of them are bad.
Oscar laughs at Logan and leaves.
Oscar makes fun of Logan and calls him a sad pathetic loser.
Oscar’s hand stroking Logan’s back almost makes him flinch violently but he resists doing so.
Oscar’s hand continues stroking up and down.
Maybe Oscar would tell everyone and embarrass him.
Oscar calls him pathetic.
“I won’t talk about it if you don’t want me to.” Oscar’s voice is soft, like when Oscar used to talk to Logan.
Is he mocking Logan?
This has got to be a joke, some sick joke. He’s probably being filmed right now.
Logan finally shakes his head. He hates his thoughts right now, they all press down on the back of his head, stopping him from lifting it up and just looking at Oscar.
“Logan, will you please… look at me.” Oscar pleads, his voice growing with concern, “I just want to see that you’re okay.”
No. NO. NO.
The voices resound louder in Logan’s head.
“Logan please.” Oscar’s voice pleads even more.
“Just for a while.” Oscar continues.
NO.
He wants to lift his head up, look at Oscar. Everything else doesn’t want him to. His mind fills up with every single bad outcome possible, all the dreaded thoughts pull him deeper into the abyss.
Logan shakes his head again.
“Just leave me alone.” Logan says, holding back his sobs.
Oscar’s hand leaves Logan’s back and it feels empty now.
Logan feels like slamming his head against a wall. What the hell is wrong with him?
“Logan, I just want to-”
And then, just as if some external force takes over his body, he shouts, “PLEASE. JUST LEAVE.”
A small gasp escapes Oscar’s mouth and he gets up, leaving the room.
FUCK FUCK FUCK
Logan breaks down. He doesn’t hide the sobs anymore, he cries. The tears flow down his cheeks.
What was he thinking?
Pathetic.
Failure.
Worthless.
Of course he fucked up, what was new? Logan Sargeant, the man of all mistakes, the mistake of all mistakes.
He punches the cushion again.
Logan just wishes he was better in everything he did. Then maybe he wouldn’t be such a disappointment. People would stop worrying so much about if he made it out alive. Everything would be so much easier.
You deserve every failure you have.
You were the problem.
You failed.
-------
A few minutes, maybe hours, pass and Logan can feel the dried up marks of tears on his face, staining his cheeks. His eyes are puffy red and his throat stings from sobbing.
He just imagines how Oscar is having fun with Lando and Alex right now, enjoying life and forgetting about Logan.
Nothing new. Mr Unmemorable. Mr Forgettable.
He wipes whatever tears can be wiped off and gets up, slotting his phone into his pocket. He straightens out his clothes and takes a deep breath, walking toward his door.
It’s late already, everyone’s probably left.
He opens the door and walks out.
“Logan-”
#f1#formula one#formula 1#f1 fandom#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#not beta read#loscar post#loscar#op81#ls2#williams racing#logan sargeant#oscar piastri#williams f1#loscar angst#angst#f1 angst#loscar fics#ls2 x op81#mclaren#mclaren f1#mclaren racing#op81 angst#ls2 angst#hurt/no comfort#alexander albon#lando norris
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𝕓𝕝𝕦𝕖 𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕟’𝕋𝕖𝕩𝕒𝕤 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤
𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟙𝟚 “cowboy like me”
♡ 𓃗 ♡
Pre! Outbreak Joel × horseback riding instructor f!reader
A/N: I wrote this entire chapter in one day and I’m pretty proud of how it turned out. Definitely a more angsty/feels chapter but I absolutely adore how close Joel and Tommy are as brothers in this. Enjoy! ♡
~word count: 5.5k~
Summary: horse dad! Joel throws in a little punch at your shit excuse for an ex boyfriend. Things get a little angsty, and emotions and feelings are openly shared.
Warnings: angst, mild violence (Joel punches your ex and breaks his nose) brief mentioning of blood/injuries. Gaslighting, egging on, toxic behavior from readers ex, Readers ex is an animal abuser (this is directly stated so proceed with caution) anxiety, fear, guilt, yelling, anger, reminiscing on the past, foul language, drinking, admittance of feelings, tooth aching fluff scattered throughout (especially between Joel and Tommy) making up, forgiveness. (+18) minors dni!
blue jeans playlist:
Austin, Texas
“What in the actual fuck do you think you’re doing here Logan? This is private property. You are unwelcome here.” You spoke firmly despite the slight quiver in your tone. You were simmering in anger, trembling in rage.
“Oh, my darling. Is that really any way to speak to me? Y’know…that’s the funny thing about restraining orders, you have to renew them or they expire. Besides, did you really think I wouldn't show up here again?” He pushed himself off the side of Frankie’s stall, a swagger in his step as he approached you and Joel. “After you dragged my fucking name through the dirt? Created all these false claims that I’m an animal abuser?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Did you really think I’d let you fucking get away with it? You think I’m that much of a fool?”
Your Texas tall glass of water was instinctively stepping in front of you. Acting as a physical shield to protect you from your ex’s harsh words. “Imma need ya to take 5 steps back from where you came from. 5 steps. Now. I don’t know who you are, but what I do know is that you’re a piece of shit. You don’t get to come here and spew some shit like you own the fuckin’ place? Man, who the fuck taught you manners cause you sure as hell ain’t have any. Secondly, you ain’t gonna talk to my girl like that. You ain’t gonna go and make her feel like she’s inferior. You ain’t gonna try and scare her into submission like that. Now, if you know what’s best for ya, you’re gonna walk on outta here with your tail between your legs. You’re gonna go home, lick your wounds and leave her, and her horses the fuck alone. Do I make myself clear buddy? Cause..I ain’t gonna say it again.”
Joel’s voice didn’t waiver like yours did. He was stern, and straight to the point. His own blood was beginning to boil like a hot kettle on the stove. His eyes were narrowed, holding a harsh edge of disgust. Who the fuck was this prick? How dare he talk to you that way. What a sorry excuse for a man. Fucking pathetic teenage, alpha male mentality.
Logan laughed. Of course he fucking did. He was so far out of touch with reality that he had himself convinced that he was the hottest thing since sliced bread. “Ah, you the boyfriend or something? She got you wrapped right around her pretty little finger, huh sweetheart? She’s got her claws deep into you man. Can’t blame you for falling so hard, she’s got the sweetest—”
“You ain’t talkin’ to her. You’re talkin’ to me. Yeah, I’m her boyfriend, and you’re runnin’ my patience real fuckin’ thin. You like runnin’ your mouth? Huh? Such a tough man you are. Comin’ in here n’puffin’ your chest like a fuckin’ imbecile. Now, like I already said, you go on home now and lick your fuckin’ wounds. Get fuckin’ lost.”
“Oh ho ho! The big scary boyfriend coming to your rescue? You're gonna let him talk to me like this sweetheart?” He ignored Joel completely as he looked over the other man’s shoulder, directly at you.
“That’s enough!” You finally spoke, fed up with your ex trying to get a rise out of Joel. You had been with Logan long enough to understand that game he always would play. He was an instigator. A cockroach that would never die; no matter how many times you stepped on it. “Go home Logan. I don’t know what you thought was going to happen when you showed up here, but you need to leave.” You stepped around Joel, taking matters into your own hands as your finger prodded against Logan’s chest firmly.
“Go home? Yeah, not gonna happen baby. It’s going to take a lot more than your grumpy guard dog of a boyfriend to get me to leave. Besides, do you think I just came here to humiliate you? No. I came back for my fucking horse. Whiskey belongs to me. Now you’ve gone and turned him into a sack of meat. A children’s lesson horse nonetheless? Fuck you—”
You shoved at him hard, placing your hands on his shoulders as you pushed him back. “Whiskey does not belong to you. He belongs to me and he is well fucking loved. You’ve got some real fucking nerve showing up here thinking that I’m just going to let you take him! You should be rotting in fucking jail for what you have done to my horses. Let alone how you have treated me when we were dating. If you don’t leave my property now, I will call the cops.”
Joel’s blood had hit the boiling point. The kettle had screamed, steam billowing as his fists clenched tightly at his sides. If this son of a bitch ever laid a fucking hand on you, his girl…breathe, Joel. Breathe.
“Oh, go on right ahead and call the cops, baby girl. I’m sure your daddy would love to see me!” Logan sneered with a wicked grin on his face as you pushed him back. As soon as his hands grabbed your forearms, there was no stopping Joel from intervening.
It happened in a flash, Joel grabbed Logan’s hands and yanked them from the firm grip they had around your forearms. He pushed him back so hard, he fell straight back on the aisle floor. “You don’t fuckin’ lay a finger on her! You fuckin’ hear me?! YOU DON’T LAY A FUCKIN’ FINGER ON MY GIRL.” Joel had grasped him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him up harshly from the floor. He shoved him once more, jaw clenched and veins bulging along his neck.
“Lay a finger on her? Well, I hate to break it to you, but I wanna do so much more than that—” Logan egged him on.
A sickening sound on bone and cartilage crunching under Joel’s heavy fist echoed through the open stables. Your Texas tall glass of water wasted no time on clocking this mother fucker right in the face, knocking him out cold. Joel was not a violent man at heart, but he would be damned if he’d watch from the sidelines and not deal with this shit bag head on.
He was seeing red-hot rage blazing behind his eyes as his fist connected with his face. A clean shot, a broken nose. Far less damage than Joel felt that he deserved. His fist ached, and the torn skin around his knuckles stung, but the adrenaline was freshly coursing through his veins as he turned over his shoulder and looked back at you.
“Joel..” your hand was covering your mouth in shock, and a twinge of fear. You were not one for condoning violence and Joel could see it written all over your face.
“Baby, I’m sorry..I—he wasn’t gonna stop. He wasn’t gonna leave.” Joel tried to reason with you.
“I know, but we—we need to call the cops. Just..stay there, okay? I’ll go get some ice for your hand, and I have a medical kit in my office—” you were already pulling out your phone from your pocket when you felt his warmth embrace you. Calloused palms resting along your cheekbones.
“Okay, we can call the cops. I know we have to, but are you—are you okay?” He spoke softly to you, eyes nervously searching yours as his thumbs gently stroked away the tears that had begun to freely fall.
“Joel..I’m fine. Okay? I’m fine. Please just..call the cops and I’ll go get the ice, okay?” You pleaded with him, heart clenching in on itself when his face fell.
“Okay. I’ll call the cops.” He agreed as he slowly dropped his hands from the gentle hold they once had on your face. He watched momentarily as you quickly made your way to your office space, swinging the door shut behind you. He scrubbed a hand down his face as he dialed 9-1-1 on his own phone, bringing the device up to his ear with a heavy sigh.
Tears blurred your vision as you grabbed a pack of ice from the fridge and the medical kit from the cabinet next to it. You quickly wiped your tears and fanned your face. You weren’t mad at Joel, not really. You understood why he did what he had to do, but at the same time you were upset, and a little overwhelmed. Okay, a lot overwhelmed. You took a few minutes to calm down before you left your office.
Joel was sitting along a tack trunk in front of Whiskey’s stall, with his head in his hands when you reappeared. “I called the cops. They’re on their way now.” He wiped away his own freshly brewing tears.
You momentarily glanced at Logan’s knocked out form laying on the dusty ground as he let out a pained groan and rolled over onto his side. “You son of a bitch..” he grumbled, spitting out blood onto the floor. “You’re gonna pay for that motherfucker.”
Joel ignored him as he was too focused on the way you were gently dabbing antiseptic ointment across the split skin on his knuckles. He truly couldn’t get a good read on how you were feeling in that present moment, but he appreciated your touch of kindness regardless. His forehead was gently touching yours as he pressed the softest kiss to skin between your brows, closing his eyes momentarily.
Once you finished applying the ointment, you placed the small bag of ice over the skin to help bring the swelling and bruising down. You gave his good hand a gentle squeeze before you stood up from the tack trunk.
You tossed the other bag of ice in Logan’s direction before all your attention was turned on making sure that your horses were okay.
Once the cops arrived, they took your statement and Joel’s. Logan was crying about his broken nose in the back of the ambulance as another cop took his statement.
Joel had no idea as of yet that the chief of police was your father. Although the resemblance was striking, he didn’t want to go and make any assumptions right off the bat.
You spoke to your father off to the side as another officer was detaining Joel and placing handcuffs around his wrists, with his chest pressed up against the side of the cop car.
“Look, I know that you have to do your job here dad, but is it really necessary to arrest him? Joel did nothing wrong. Logan showed up here uninvited and he wasn’t going to leave. I tried to get him to leave and he put his hands on me and that’s when Joel snapped.”
Your father let out a sigh with his arms crossed over his chest. “Sweetie, you know I’m just doing my job here. He hit another man, and that’s classified as assault. A family member will have to pay a small charge to bail him out, but I’ll pull some strings to make sure it won’t end up on his permanent record. As for Logan? I’m not going to be as nice. Now, I want you to lock up here and go home. Call Ryder up to spend the night or something, okay?”
Your dad was a tough man, but a real softy at the same time. You both watched as the other officer pushed Joel into the backseat of the vehicle. You let out a sigh as you looked over at your father and nodded.
Joel was in utter defeat as he sat in the back of the cop car with his head resting back against the seat. Normally it was Tommy getting his ass arrested, but Joel? Never. It was a new low for him and he was simmering in it.
“Not the usual Miller brother that I’m used to picking up.” Your father spoke as he leaned back against the side of the car. He had picked up Tommy Miller a few too many times but this was his first time meeting Joel.
“Yeah, I think my brother Tommy has mentioned you a few times before sir. I’m always the one bailin’ his ass out..” Joel responded with a defeated sigh.
Your father nodded. “Yeah, your brother Tommy and I are on a first name basis. Always going on about how his big brother always bails him out.”
“Well, Tommy is always finding his own way of getting into trouble. I apologize for you havin’ to be on a first name basis with him. He has gotten a lot better as of late.”
“Are you dating my daughter? I might be old, but I can put two and two together.”
Joel felt all the color slowly drain from his face. His palms began to sweat when his assumptions that the chief of police was in fact your father was true. He swallowed hard, clearing his throat. “I am dating your daughter sir.”
“Are you treating her right?”
“I am sir. Your daughter means a lot to me. She’s a wonderful woman, and I’m awfully lucky to know her.”
“Good. I can tell you treat her right just based on the fact of how quick she was to defend you. Meeting under these circumstances is not ideal, but you’ll have to come over for dinner one night.”
She defended me?
“Sir, I would be delighted to have dinner with you and your family.” Joel was in disbelief to say the least. He was not expecting your father to be so open to him like that.
“I also want to say I appreciate you sticking up for my daughter. She’s pretty good at holding her own, and she gets that from her mother, but thank you for keeping her safe.”
“You’re welcome sir.”
“Once we get you booked in the station, you can call your brother to come pick you up. It’s a small fine to be paid, but I’m sure he can manage it.”
Joel could only nod as your father closed the back door before climbing into the driver's seat. The drive to the station was a quiet one and once Joel was booked in, he immediately called Tommy.
“Tommy? Hey, it’s Joel. Uhh..listen, are you busy right now? I uh—I’m in jail.”
The last thing Tommy was expecting was for his big brother to call him and say that he got himself arrested. It was unlike Joel and completely against his nature. “Joel? What the fuck are you talkin’ about? The hell did ya do to get arrested?”
Joel pinched the bridge of his nose as he inhaled deeply, resting his forehead against the cold brick wall. “I punched Clover’s ex in the face..well, in the nose. Broke it and everythin.’ He showed up to the barn uninvited, and he put his hands on her and I lost it.”
“Clover? Ohhh is that your girl’s nickname? That’s cute. I just can’t believe that my big brother, Joel fuckin’ Miller got his ass thrown in jail. Man, I’m never gonna live this one down.”
“Yeah, that’s her nickname ‘cus she’s my lucky charm. Anyway, can you cut the crap and just come fuckin’ bail me out? I don’t wanna sit here all night. Also, do not fuckin’ bring this up to Sarah. She ain’t need to know that her dad got arrested, alright?”
“Aw, she’s your lucky charm? Man, that’s so stinkin’ cute! Yeah, hang tight big brother. Tommy is coming to the rescue! I won’t bring this up to Sarah. You have my word.” Joel could hear Tommy smirking through the receiver.
“Thank you so much. However will I repay you?” Joel grumbled sarcastically.
“With a big ole’ hug and kiss!” Tommy laughed as he grabbed his keys quickly.
“I ain’t gonna kiss ya Tommy.”
“You ain’t got much of a choice, big brother. Alright, I’m gettin’ in my truck now. See ya soon!”
Joel hung up with a sigh. At least your father was kind enough to place him in a semi comfortable holding cell. It was still pretty cold, but it was just him in the room thank god.
Tommy arrived at the police station about 20 minutes later. He gave the chief of police a little salute and a wink before paying the small fine of $500 and signed his brother out. He had a big smirk on his stupid face when Joel was released from his short stay in jail. A grimace was plastered on his face as Tommy pulled him in for a hug, to which Joel begrudgingly returned.
Once the two Miller brothers were safely in Tommy’s truck, Joel barely had a second to breathe before his younger brother was opening his big mouth. “Joel, what in the hell were you thinkin’ hittin’ her ex like that?!? Man, you’re so lucky that you didn’t have to sit in a cell all night! What do we say to Tommy? Thank you so much for bailin’ me out of jail! You’re the bestest brother I could ever ask for!”
Joel let out a frustrated groan at his brother's antics as he reached over the dashboard and trapped him in a headlock. “You and that big fuckin’ mouth of yours is always gettin’ you in trouble! I did what I had to do. The guy was a total fuckin’ prick, and like I told ya earlier, he put his fuckin’ hands on her.”
Tommy playfully pushed his brother away. Well, he attempted to but Joel’s grip was pretty damn strong. “Okay, okay! I yield! I yield! Lemme go! C’mon big brother, I was only messin’ with ya!” Tommy pleaded with him.
Joel gave him a knucklehead sandwich as he messed up the younger Miller’s hair before he finally released him.
“Seriously though, are you alright Joel? No silly talk I promise.”
Joel let out a deep sigh as he sunk back into the passenger seat and scrubbed his hand down his face. “Yeah, I’m alright. I just..I probably shouldn’t have punched him in the face. He had it comin.’”
“I mean, yeah. You probably shouldn’t have punched him in the face. I ain’t one to judge ‘cus I woulda done the same thing.”
Joel looked over at him shaking his head a little. “I guess the only thing I’m worried about is if Clover is upset with me..I think she is and I can’t really blame her but at the same time, I don’t want her to be upset with me.”
“Yeah man. I get you. Listen, before we get into this deep brother to brother talk, how about we go and pick up some burgers and beers, and park somewhere n’just relax for a minute. Does that sound like a good plan to you?”
“Like what we used to do in highschool after football practices, and when your prom date ditched you senior year for what’s his name? Brett somethin?’” Joel was snapping his fingers as he tried to remember the running back that stole Tommy’s date.
“Brett-go-fuck-yourself-date-stealin’-rotten-son-of-a-bitch.” Yeah, I remember him. That was the first night you and I really talked too. Like, on a deeper level. Shit, didn’t we go and egg his house afterwards too?” Tommy looked over at his brother with a big grin. It was nice to reminisce on the past.
“Yes! It was like what, three in the mornin’ or somethin?’ God, if Ma would have known what we were doin’, she woulda killed us.” Joel chuckled.
“Best part of the whole thing was Brett’s sister felt sooo bad for what had happened that she personally apologized by givin’ me a blowie in my truck the followin’ weekend. ‘Oh, Tommy! I’m so sorry that my mean brother stole your date like that let me just suck’—”
“Okay, now you’ve just gone and ruined the moment. Jesus Christ, Tommy. Is there ever a moment where you’re not thinkin’ of sex?” Joel asked with an exasperated sigh.
“Pssh. Of course there are moments where I’m not thinkin’ about sex! I’m not a total imbecile y’know.” Tommy shot him a playful wink as he started the ignition.
“Yeah? Well, I ain’t too sure about that bein’ true Tommy.”
“Oh my gosh, are you..are you callin’ me a whore?” Tommy looked over at him in disbelief, with his hand across his chest.
Joel gave him a ‘are you serious?’ look before he rolled his eyes. “Uh huh. That’s exactly what I’m callin’ ya. You’re a whore and you’re proud of it too.”
The Miller brothers went to their favorite drive through joint in town. They each got a burger, fries, and 2 beers to go. They pulled up to their old highschool and parked near the football field.
Tommy put the radio on low while he inhaled his burger and fries. The summer air was warm, and there were fireflies flashing all over the pitch black football field. ‘Take On Me’ was crackling through the old radio system.
“Hey, Tommy? Uh..how soon is too soon to tell someone that you love them?” Joel asked with uncertainty laced in his tone.
Tommy slowly turned his head to look at his brother. He blinked a few times as he processed the 4 letter word that Joel hadn’t uttered in years. “Uh..are ya feelin’ alright big brother? You ain’t got a fever or somethin’ do ya?”
“For fuck sakes Tommy. Don’t look at me like that. I just—is it too soon?”
Tommy reached for his beer in the nearest cup holder and took a big swig as he sank back into the old worn leather on the driver's seat. “Alright, so it’s undeniable that you two love each other. Anyone with two goddamn eyes can see that. However, I think you just need to take a step back for a moment, and calm down a little. I don’t wantcha jumpin’ the gun and confessing your undying love to her.”
“You..think she loves me too? I ain’t gonna go and confess my undyin’ love for her. Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Joel, of course she loves you. I just don’t want to see ya hurt. Not that Clover would ever hurt ya or anythin’ but as your brother, I gotta look out for ya. I love you too much to see you hurt again. I just wanna see you happy Joel.” Tommy was genuine with his words of course. He loved Joel dearly and he truly did just want his brother to be happy.
“I love you too, Tommy. Even when you annoy me half the fuckin’ time. I’m not gonna do anythin’ irrational I swear. It’s just that..well, the last time I cared about someone this much was—”
“Sarah’s mom. I know Joel. I was there, remember?”
“I wish I didn’t remember honestly. It was such an ugly situation for me. Comin’ home and seein’ all her shit gone. Our bedroom empty. She didn’t even leave a fuckin’ note.” Joel bit back his bitter tears from spilling as he remembered the night he came home to an empty bed.
“I never saw you cry so much in my fuckin’ life…I wanted to cry for you.” Tommy softly admitted as he reached over and gently squeezed his brother's shoulder.
“Thank god Sarah was just a little thing at the time..she didn’t understand what was goin’ on. Remember the look on the neighbor's face when I was drunk n’sobbin’ in the front yard? Good times. Good fucking times.” Joel laughed pathetically.
“Hey, listen to me okay? Yeah, that was a real dark fuckin’ time for you. My heart broke for you, and Sarah that night. You got somethin’ good now, Joel. Somethin’ real good. You ain’t ever gonna cry like that again. Alright?”
Joel sniffed as he wiped at his nose and looked over at him. “She won’t hurt me like that. She’s too kind to do that. Too gentle, too wonderful. The loveliest person that I have ever had the privilege of knowin.’” He was teary eyed as he looked at his brother. These weren’t sad tears; these were tears of relief.
“Nah. She’s a dime in a dozen. ‘Special in every way. Now please shut up before you make me cry too. I’m too fuckin’ pretty to cry!” Tommy jokingly said.
“So what does that make me? An ugly crier? I see how it is.” Joel teased.
“The ugliest crier of all fuckin’ time.”
“Shut your whore ass mouth up, Tommy. That was mean.” Joel said with a grin.
It was nearing 3a.m when Tommy drove Joel back to the barn so he could pick up his truck. “Hey lover boy? You drive straight on home. Don’t stop at her apartment, cause I know you’ll be tempted to. Just give her some space to breathe, and you can see her in the mornin.’”
Joel twirled his own keys between his fingers as he went to open the passenger door. “Alright. I’ll drive right on home. I won’t go to her apartment. I’ll call her in the mornin’ or somethin.’”
Tommy thought it was a little suspicious that Joel wasn’t trying to fight him on this. Regardless of his suspicions, he decided to trust his brother. “Alright. Text me when you get home then, alright? I’ll be at Ryder’s.”
“At this hour? Well, you have yourself a good time with her Tommy. Tell her I say hello.” Joel gave him a little nod before he slipped out of the driver's seat.
“Well, uh yeah. She’s my girlfriend, and we love to have late night sleepovers.” Tommy said with a grin.
“Girlfriend? Congratulations, baby brother. She’s a lucky lucky gal.”
“Nah, I’m the luckiest man. She’s amazin.’” Tommy was just as lovestruck as Joel was.
Both Miller brothers waved goodbye as they drove off in separate directions. Of course..Joel didn’t keep his word on driving straight home. He had to go and make sure that you were okay. It was going to eat him up inside if he didn’t.
So that’s how your Texas tall glass of water ended up standing outside your apartment at 3 in the morning. His hands were shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans after he knocked on your door.
He was just about to head back down the steps after a few minutes when he heard the front door creak open and your soft voice drifting through the calm balmy summer air. “Joel?…what are you doing here? It's like..3 in the morning.” You were rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you leaned against the door jamb, wearing nothing but Joel’s t-shirt and a pair of panties.
“Baby?..hey, m’sorry. I know it’s late. I didn't mean to wake ya. I just..I wanted to make sure you were okay after everything that happened..” he sheepishly whispered as he stood with his hands still shoved in his pockets.
“You drove all this way..to make sure I was okay? Joel, baby. You’re exhausted. Do you..do you want to come in for some tea?” You looked up at him through sleepy lashes.
“Yeah, I’d love to come in for some tea..” Joel gave you a small hesitant smile as he stepped inside your quaint apartment, taking his boots off by the doormat as you closed the door softly.
“What kind of tea do you like?..” you padded past him into the kitchen as you grabbed the kettle and filled it up with water. “I have mint, sleepy-time, hibiscus, chamomile..and like anything your heart desires.”
Joel set his phone and other personables down on the coffee table after he texted Tommy and let him know he got home safely. “Sleepy-time is one of my favorites.”
“Mine too.” You grabbed two mugs and started the kettle on the stove. There was a fallen silence between the two of you as you waited for the kettle to boil. Once it was ready, you steeped the tea bags in the mugs before bringing them over. You gently handed Joel his mug before sinking down on the couch beside him.
You each took a few small sips before Joel broke through the ice. “Listen, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier. I’m not a violent person..and punching your ex in the face like that was pretty fuckin’ stupid of me. I understand if you..need some space from me or somethin.’ I can’t blame you if you do.”
You rested the mug between your palms as you looked over at him. “Joel..I don’t want any space from you, okay? That’s not what..I don’t want you to think that all of a sudden I don’t want to see you anymore. I promise you that’s not what’s happening here. Am I upset that you..acted in violence? Yeah, I am. It’s something that I don’t condone. However, I’m not mad at you. I know why you did what you did, but you can’t let people get to you like that. Logan is an instigator. That’s how he always has been. He just wanted to get a rise out of you.”
Joel slowly looked over at you as he took another sip of tea. “Okay..I just, I wanted to make sure because if you did want space, I would 100% give it to you darlin.’” He reached over with his free hand and gave your exposed knee a gentle squeeze. “I know I shouldn’t have let him get to me. It’s just that when I saw him grab you like that..I just couldn’t hold back. I’m sorry. I don’t want to scare you or anythin.’”
You gently rested your head against his own with a soft sigh, wrapping your hand around his bicep, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Hey, I know you would give me space if I asked for it, cowboy. I’m not scared of you at all. The situation just..it got out of control super fast. I know you’re not a violent man Joel. It would take a lot for you to scare me away.”
Joel kept his hand gently resting along your knee, brushing his fingers across the underside of it before he was coaxing your legs to rest along his lap. “Okay, I’ll try and not dwell on it too much. I’m glad we could have this conversation. Tommy told me I should wait till tomorrow..but I get anxious over these things. I also truly just wanted to make sure you were okay, baby. I could have called, texted, but I needed to see you in person.” His hands were gently massaging your calves now as they were draped over his thighs.
You let your back rest along the pillows on the couch comfortably as he massaged your calves. You knew that Joel Miller presently had multiple love languages. Acts of service, physical touch, and words of affirmation. This combination felt like a warm cup of tea, doused in sticky sweet honey that melted on your tongue. “I was going to call you earlier. I just didn’t know if you needed space as well. So, I ended up calling Ryder over and she came and hung out with me for a few hours. I’m really glad you came over. I wanted to make sure that you were okay too.”
“I’m glad I went against my brother’s words. My gut was tellin’ me to come and see ya. The tea is just a wonderful added bonus.” He softly chuckled.
“Well, I’m glad you went with your gut. Although, Tommy is probably gonna disagree. I can butter him up for you.” You softly giggled.
“Butter him up? Nah, I’ll handle him. Besides, I don’t need my girl butterin’ up my little brother. He’s got enough ego boostin’ as it is. How about you save that butterin’ up for me? You got any to spare?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you playfully causing you to snort tea up your nose.
“Is that an innuendo for?..” you giggled as you wiped away the stray drops of tea from under your nose.
Joel was as red as a fire hydrant now as he looked over at you and shook his head vigorously. “Dear god. I gotta stop spendin’ so much time with my brother. He’s rottin’ my damn brain from the inside out.” He nervously chuckled.
“Oh baby, don’t be embarrassed. It’s okay. Besides, I was just messing with you.” You shot him a playful wink. “You wanna finish watching the episode of Friends that we left off from last time?”
“With you? Absolutely. Put it on and get nice and comfy.” He grabbed your mug from your hands gently and set it along the coffee table before he pulled you into his strong arms so you could fully rest your body along his chest.
You fell asleep after halfway through the episode with your cheek comfortably resting against his chest, right where his heartbeat lay, and his fingers gently playing with your hair.
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Action and Echo
Here we go fellas...
In which a rebel hero gets caught and tortured by a sadistic villain. Will their team rescue them before its too late?
Oc whump, nonbinary whumpee, male whumper, torture, graphic violence, mental health issues, toxic headspaces, angst, drugs and alcohol use and abuse (not arc 1), surreal, happy ending (eventually)
The first arc is the most tame and can be read independently. Let me know if I should tag anything else, I'm bad at tags lol
Arc 1
Captivity, torture for information, defiant but breaking whumpee, vague military setting, self-worth issues, mental decline, confusion, slightly surreal
Three days
Optimist
Fight it
Permanent Damage
Bite me asshole
An invitation
Happy ending
Arc 2
PTSD, flashbacks, recovery whump, past torture, memory issues, came back wrong, hallucinations, angry caretaker (not at whumpee), polyamorous family,
Logan
Care
Are you ok?
Sunshine
Breakfast
.
.
.
Arc 3
Revenge, whumper turned whumpee, caretaker turned whumper, defiant whumpee, asshole whumpee, cptsd, suicidal ideation, self harm, suicide attempts, psychological whump, torture whump, masochism, self hatred, dark headspaces.
Blanket warning for all of arc three!!! Extreme suicidal masochism. Self-harm. Fucked up relationship to pain.
You
A little rage
Meeting the monster
Guilt
A good man
What's cookin'
Hot Stuff
A little extra suffering as a treat
Scent
.
.
Arc 4
Extras!!
#my writing#masterpost#whump#action and echo#oc whump#nonbinary whumpee#hero villain whump#torture whump
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Veins of Violet
Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader
Part 12: Sleeping beauty
A/N: Nothing- just enjoy!
Previous Chapters ☞ HERE ☜
8.6k words
Logans POV
I held her close, stroking her face, cradling her limp body in my arms. Everything around us was charred and broken, reduced to ashes. Laura sat beside me, absently poking at her shoes with a stick, but all I could focus on was Violet. I kept calling her name, urging her to wake up, but she wasn't responding.
"I think we need to go," Laura said, her voice heavy with exhaustion. "She might not wake up." We'd been sitting here for what felt like an eternity, trying to get Violet to open her eyes. As I glanced at Laura, something gnawed at me, something I needed answers to."Why were you helping Strucker?" I asked, my voice low, barely keeping the anger in check. I needed to know why she was with that bastard, but it took everything in me to hold back the rage simmering beneath the surface.Laura looked at me, tears welling up in her eyes, but she blinked them away quickly. She cleared her throat before speaking, and I could see the guilt written all over her face."Talk," I growled, my patience hanging by a thread. "I need to know why you did it."
Laura hesitated, the weight of the question bearing down on her, and I felt my grip tighten around Violet as I waited for her to answer.
"They found out where Violet worked, and they knew I was connected to her. For a month, I felt like someone was following me. Then, one day, when I was alone at the flower shop, Strucker came in and handed me a photo. It was of my foster dad—shot in the head. He said if I didn't help him, he'd kill my mom and brother too." She paused, her voice shaking. "I loved Violet like a sister, but they were my family, and I couldn't let anything happen to them. So I complied. I helped track where Violet lived, made it easy since she trusted me. But then I met you, and I wanted out. That's when Strucker killed my brother. He had them hostage at some unknown warehouse, so I couldn't ask anyone for help. He threatened to blow her to pieces if I did. I had to save my mom...she's the only one I have left, and—"
"You have me," I interrupted, my voice rough but filled with sympathy.
"But I betrayed you," she said, her voice cracking. "And now I have no idea where my mother is, and Violet is unconscious because of me."
"I know," I said softly, my voice gruff with understanding. "But you had no choice. And I know how it feels when you don't have a choice."
We sat in silence after that, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. There was nothing more to say—no words that could make this right. But I wasn't going to hold her responsible for something she couldn't control.
After a few moments, we decided it was time to find somewhere that could help Violet. As we stood up, the sound of engines filled the air, and I looked up to see a jet slowly descending. It was big, black, and all too familiar. My heart skipped a beat as it landed—sleek and powerful, just as I remembered it.
It was the X-Men jet.
Two figures emerged from the jet, and as they approached, their faces became clear. The first was Storm, her familiar gray hair styled in the same pixie cut that hadn't changed at all. Beside her was Hank—Beast. He looked a bit younger than I remembered, but the glasses were the same, and his scrawny body was the same as the other Hank.
As they walked toward us, Storm's eyes widened in shock. "Logan?" she said, disbelief clear in her voice. "You're alive?"
I met her gaze and shook my head slightly. "I'm not the Logan you think I am," I replied. "I'm from a different universe."
Their expressions shifted from shock to confusion. I could see the questions forming in their minds, but before they could ask, I added, "I know. I'm still getting used to it myself." Hank adjusted his glasses, his eyes narrowing as he processed what I'd said. "A different universe, huh?" he mused, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "So, I guess my multiverse theory was true after all."
I couldn't help but smirk at his remark—Hank's always been a nerd. But curiosity got the better of me. "How did you know we were even here?" I asked, glancing down at Violet's limp body, my concern for her outweighing everything else.
"Charles felt an intense amount of power here," Hank explained, his tone serious. "He told us to come check it out. But I never would have guessed you were here." "Well, it's good you came because we need your help," I said, my voice edged with urgency.
"We've been here for an hour, and she still hasn't woken up."
"Alright, let's get her onto the jet so I can check her vitals," Hank said, his voice calm but determined.
I nodded in agreement, carefully lifting Violet into my arms. Together, we all walked toward the jet, the weight of the situation pressing down on me with every step.
As Storm piloted the jet, Hank was busy checking Violet's vitals, monitoring her heartbeat with focused precision. Laura and I sat back, watching anxiously. I couldn't take my eyes off Violet, the worry gnawing at me.
Noticing how tense I was, Laura reached out and placed her hand on mine. The unexpected touch made me flinch, but I didn't pull away. Instead, I let her hand stay there, a small comfort in the midst of the chaos.
After a few tense moments, Laura finally spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you know when she's going to wake up?"
Hank glanced at her, his expression serious. "No, I don't. But when we get to the school, we can take a better look at her in my lab."
Laura furrowed her brow, clearly puzzled. "School?" she echoed, the confusion evident in her voice. Hank offered a small, reassuring smile. "Yes, the school. It's a place for people like us—mutants. We train there, learn to control our powers, and live together. It's called Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters."
Laura's eyes widened slightly as she absorbed the information. "A school... for mutants?"
"Exactly," Hank confirmed, his tone gentle but inquisitive. "What's your name, if you don't mind me asking? And... are you a mutant?"
Laura hesitated, glancing at me before answering. "My name's Laura," she said softly. "And yes, I'm a mutant."
Hank nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Well, Laura, you're in good company. We'll do everything we can to help your friend, I promise."
I looked at Laura with a small smile, a flicker of hope stirring within me. She was tough, like me, but there was a vulnerability in her eyes that reminded me of what it was like to find a place where you belong. I couldn't help but think that she might like the school, just as I had in my world. It was a place that offered more than just training; it was a place that gave people like us a sense of family.
It took about an hour to reach the school, which made sense once I found out we were in Serbia. I couldn't shake the mix of anticipation and anxiety building inside me. I kept glancing at Violet, hoping she'd wake up, but she remained unconscious. Laura stayed close, her hand occasionally brushing mine, offering silent support.
Charles approached me, his eyes locking onto mine with a mix of surprise and understanding. "Logan," he said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of years. "I never imagined I'd see you again."
I nodded, the corners of my mouth twitching into a small, weary smile. "I'm not the Logan you remember, Charles. I'm from a different universe." The words felt strange, even after having said them before, but Charles took them in stride.
"I see," he replied, his tone contemplative. "The multiverse theory—Hank was always convinced it was possible. It seems he was right."
He paused, looking toward the medical room where Violet was being examined. "She's important to you, isn't she?"
"More than I can explain," I admitted, my voice rough with emotion. "She's been through hell, and now she's here... like this, because of Strucker."
Charles nodded slowly, absorbing my words. "We'll do everything we can to help her, Logan. I promise you that. You're not alone in this."
Hearing those words from Charles brought a small sense of relief, a reminder that even in this different world, there were still people who had my back. I leaned back in the chair, the tension in my muscles easing just a bit, as I waited for any news about Violet. As Charles looked over at me, his gaze shifted to the young woman sitting beside me. He studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was piecing something together.
"And who might this be?" Charles asked gently, his curiosity evident.
"This is Laura," I replied, glancing at her with a mix of pride and protectiveness. "She's... well, she's like me."
Charles raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Like you? A mutant?"
"Yeah," I confirmed. "She's got claws, healing... the whole package."Charles looked at Laura with a soft, understanding smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Laura. You're welcome here, just as Logan is."
Laura met his gaze with a mix of wariness and curiosity, clearly unsure of what to make of the situation. But she nodded slightly in acknowledgment, her hand still resting on mine. I could tell she was nervous, but there was a flicker of hope in her eyes—maybe she was beginning to believe that this place could be a new start for her.
----
After what felt like an eternity, the door to the medical room finally opened, and Hank stepped out. Laura and I quickly stood up, the tension palpable between us. My heart pounded in my chest as I searched Hank's face for any sign of what he might say.
Hank approached us, his expression serious but not without a hint of reassurance. "She hasn't woken up yet," he began, and I felt a cold knot tighten in my stomach. Laura's grip on my arm tightened, but she stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.
"But," Hank added, glancing between the two of us, "we were able to get some readings from the scan. It looks like she may have experienced some form of memory loss. There's some irregular activity in the parts of her brain responsible for memory retention and recall."
"Memory loss?" I echoed, struggling to process what that meant. "How bad is it?"Hank sighed, clearly trying to tread carefully. "It's hard to say for sure without her being awake, but it's possible that she could have lost some recent memories. We won't know the extent until she regains consciousness."
I felt a wave of frustration and helplessness wash over me. Violet had already been through so much, and now this? "Is there anything we can do?" I asked, my voice rough with emotion.
"For now, we just need to let her rest and monitor her closely," Hank replied. "We'll do everything we can to help her recover. But you should be prepared for the possibility that she might not remember everything—especially recent events."
I nodded, swallowing hard as I tried to keep my emotions in check. Laura's hand remained on my arm, her presence grounding me as I tried to absorb what Hank was telling us.
Hank gestured to a young woman standing nearby. "Micah, my assistant, can take you both upstairs to grab something to eat," he offered, his voice gentle, understanding the toll this was taking on us.
I shook my head, my jaw tight with determination. "I'm staying here until she wakes up," I said firmly. I couldn't bring myself to leave Violet's side, not now, not when she needed me.
But before I could say anything more, Laura spoke up. "No, let's go," she insisted, her tone softer but firm. She looked at me with those intense eyes, a mixture of concern and resolve. "You need to eat, and so do I. We'll be stronger when she wakes up if we take care of ourselves."
I hesitated, torn between my instinct to stay with Violet and the logic of Laura's words. I knew she was right, but it was hard to admit. Finally, I sighed, nodding reluctantly. "Alright," I said, though the decision didn't come easy. "But I'm comin right back."
Laura gave me a small, encouraging smile, and together, we followed Micah out of the room, my mind still with Violet even as we walked away.
As I walked through the school, everything felt strangely familiar yet different at the same time. It was trippy, like I was caught between two worlds. Memories from my past started flooding in, but I quickly pushed them back, not wanting to get lost in what was and what could never be again.
I glanced at Laura, and I could see the awe in her eyes as she took in the sight of so many kids like her—mutants—who didn't have to hide like she did before. It made me feel relieved, knowing that she was starting to feel comfortable here. I'm new to this whole dad thing, but I'm going to try my hardest to make sure she feels safe and secure.
As we walked into the kitchen, I suddenly froze. Two familiar faces were staring back at me, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. The speedster with the big mouth looked at me like he'd seen a ghost, which, in a way, I guess I was in this instance. Beside him stood Raven, her eyes wide with surprise.
Peter, was the first to break the silence. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up!" he said, zipping around me in a blur before coming to a stop right in front of my face. "Did someone just hit the rewind button on life, or did I accidentally break the space-time continuum again? Because last I checked, you were... well, let's just say you were taking a really long nap."Raven, standing beside him, crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, her expression cool but clearly baffled. "Logan, is that really you?" she asked, her voice calm, but I could see the disbelief in her eyes. "We thought you were gone for good."
I sighed, already feeling the weariness of having to explain this again. "Yeah, it's me, but I'm not the Logan you knew. I'm from a different universe." The words felt like they were wearing out, even as I said them.
Peter's eyes widened even more, and he let out a low whistle. "Different universe? Man, that's some serious sci-fi stuff right there. Do you, like, have a doppelgänger running around somewhere? Or maybe you've got a secret twin? Please tell me there's a multiverse where I have an infinite supply of Twinkies!" Raven shot Peter a look that said, "Seriously?" before turning back to me, her expression softening a bit. "This is... a lot to take in, Logan. But I'm glad you're here, even if it's not the same you."
I gave a half-smile, appreciating her steady presence. "Yeah, it's been a lot to take in for me too."
Peter grinned, clearly still processing the whole "different universe" thing in his own way. "Well, whatever universe you're from, it's good to see you, man. This place is way too quiet without you around."
"Quiet, huh?" I muttered, glancing at Raven, who smirked at the idea of this place ever being quiet. Peter's energy was enough to keep the noise level high, universe aside.
As we all settled into the moment, I could feel the tension ease just a bit, even if the situation was still surreal.
As we sat down to eat, Peter zipped around the kitchen, throwing together sandwiches for Laura and me with his usual speed. Even in this universe, he still managed to give me whiplash with how fast he moved.
"Turkey and cheese, coming right up!" Peter announced, sliding the sandwiches in front of us with a grin. "And don't worry, I kept it simple. No surprises... this time."
Laura eyed the sandwich cautiously, but she didn't say anything, just took a small bite. I couldn't help but smirk, shaking my head at Peter's usual antics. "You're still a whirlwind, aren't ya?"Peter flopped into a chair across from us, already halfway through his own sandwich. "Hey, speed's my thing, right? Gotta stick with what I'm good at," he said with a laugh. Then, with a curious look, he turned to me. "So, Logan, how's it feel to be back here? Must be pretty trippy for you huh, huh."
I shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the truth was, it was strange. Everything looked familiar, yet not quite the same. I glanced over at Raven, who was quietly eating her sandwich, watching the conversation with an amused smile.
"Yeah, it's weird," I admitted. "But, you know... some things are really different. Like you," I added, nodding toward Raven. "In my world, you were... well, let's just say we weren't exactly on the same side."
Raven raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the idea. "Is that so?" she said, her tone light, but there was a hint of curiosity there. "I guess I wasn't as nice to you over there?"
I smirked, taking a bite of my sandwich. "Not exactly. It's just... strange, seeing you here, being... well, nice."
Peter looked between us, clearly enjoying the exchange. "So, wait—what was she like in your universe? All bad and scary?" he asked, leaning in as if he were about to hear a juicy story.
"Something like that," I replied, keeping it vague. There were things about my world I didn't feel like diving into, especially not now. But seeing Raven like this, it was a reminder of how different things could be.
Raven just chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Well, I'm glad I'm on the right side this time, at least as far as you're concerned."
As the conversation flowed, it struck me how surreal it all was—being here, with familiar faces in unfamiliar roles. But despite the differences, there was a sense of ease creeping in, like maybe this place could still offer something I needed. As we continued eating, Raven glanced between me and Laura, curiosity written all over her face. "So, how do you two know each other?" she asked, pointing her sandwich at us casually. For a moment, there was an awkward silence as Laura and I both hesitated, not quite sure how to explain. Laura started to say something, but then stopped, and I could see her struggling to find the right words.
"She's my..." I began, trailing off as I tried to figure out how to phrase it.
Laura, equally unsure, added, "He's my..." and then she just shrugged, looking at me for help. Finally, I took a deep breath and decided to just lay it out. "She's my kid," I said, my voice firm but a little uncertain, as if saying it out loud would make it more real.
Raven's eyes widened, and she blinked, clearly taken aback. "Your daughter?" she repeated, her tone a mix of disbelief and surprise.
Peter, who had been taking a big bite of his sandwich, nearly choked as he tried to swallow quickly, his eyes bulging. "Wait, what?!" he exclaimed, pointing at Laura. "She's your kid? Like... your actual kid?"
"Yeah," I said, meeting their shocked gazes. "I found out not too long ago. It's... complicated."
Peter let out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair as he processed the information. "Man, that's wild. So, what, you're like... a dad now? In this universe or the other one?"
"Both, I guess," I replied, a bit of a smirk on my face despite the awkwardness. "It's been... an adjustment."
Raven shook her head slightly, still looking between the two of us. "Wow, Logan, I didn't see that one coming," she said, clearly trying to wrap her head around the idea. "You, a dad. Huh That's... something."
Laura glanced up at me, her expression a little uncertain but also relieved that the truth was out. I gave her a small nod, hoping to convey that we'd figure this out together.
Peter, still looking like he was trying to solve a puzzle, finally broke into a grin. "Well, this just got a whole lot more interesting. So, do you guys do father-daughter claw sharpening on weekends or what?"
I couldn't help but chuckle at his attempt to lighten the mood. "Something like that," I muttered, shaking my head. Despite the surprise and the awkwardness, it felt good to be honest about it, even if it was still sinking in for all of us.
A few moments passed after we finished eating, and the reality of the situation started to settle in. I realized I needed to call Wade and fill him in on everything that had happened. I turned to Peter, who was finishing off his 3rd sandwich.
"Hey, you got a phone I can use?" I asked.
Peter, always quick on the uptake, pulled out his phone and handed it over. "Sure thing, old man. Who you calling, anyway?"
I smirked as I took the phone. "Wade," I replied, dialing the number that was unfortunately burned into my brain. He'd made damn sure I'd remember it—kept saying it was my lifeline in case I got lost, like I was a damn dog or something.
As the phone rang, a sudden realization hit me. "Oh shit... his dog," I muttered under my breath. Raven, who had been quietly observing, raised an eyebrow. "His dog?"
"Yeah," I said, rubbing my temples. "Wade asked us to take care of his dog while he and Vanessa are out of town. I've been a bit... preoccupied with everything going on. Haven't even thought about the dog since we got here."
Peter chuckled, clearly enjoying the chaos. "Sounds like you're really embracing that whole dad role—taking care of kids and pets now, huh?"
"Don't push it," I muttered, waiting for Wade to pick up. But even as I said it, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Wade's dog was probably causing all kinds of trouble back at the place.
When the call finally connected, I could already hear Wade's voice on the other end, likely mid-sentence about something completely ridiculous. But before he could launch into one of his usual rants, I cut him off.
"Wade, listen," I said, my voice firm. "We've got a situation."
I told him what had happened and that we left his dog in the apartment but before I could even get another word in, Wade's voice exploded through the phone. "WHAT THE FUCK, LOGAN?! You forgot about my dog? My sweet, innocent little girl? Do you have any idea what kind of mayhem she could be causing right now? Vanessa's going to be so pissed if anything happens to her!"
I pulled the phone away from my ear for a second, grimacing at the volume of his shouting. "Wade, calm down," I tried to say, but he was already on a full-blown rant.
"I trusted you with my precious little furball! I gave you one simple job—keep her alive! And what do you do? You go off on some crazy mission and forget all about her like she's yesterday's trash! She could be tearing up your apartment, peeing on your bed, or even worse—getting lonely!"
"Wade!" I practically growled, cutting him off. "We almost got killed. Violet's in the medical wing, unconscious, and we're dealing with some serious shit over here. Your dog was the last thing on my mind!"
There was a brief pause on the other end, and for a second, I thought maybe he'd realized the gravity of the situation. But then, in typical Wade fashion, he responded, "Okay, but seriously, Logan, priorities! Violet's a badass, she'll be fine, but my dog... she's just a delicate little bundle of chaos! What if she's scared? What if she's lonely? What if she's chewing up your favorite pair of boots right now?"
I let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing my forehead. "listen you dumb fuck, I'll check on your dog, alright? But I need you to focus here. We've got bigger problems than some chewed-up shoes."
"Fine, fine," Wade grumbled, though I could still hear the worry in his voice. "But you better not let anything happen to her, or I'm gonna make you dog-sit for a month. And trust me, you don't want that kind of responsibility."
"Noted," I replied dryly, finally getting him to calm down—at least somewhat. "Now, listen, there's more I need to tell you about what happened. Strucker was involved, and it's not over yet."
Wade's tone shifted, finally catching the seriousness in my voice. "Strucker? Fuck... alright, fill me in."
After I filled Wade in on everything that had been going on—the encounter with Strucker, Violet's condition, and the mess we were in—he fell silent for a moment, which was rare for him.
"Alright," he finally said, his voice more serious than usual. "Looks like I'm gonna have to cut this little mother-in-law reunion short. Vanessa and I will head back to the mansion, pick up my dog, and help you guys out. Can't leave my little girl hanging, or you, for that matter."
"You sure?" I asked, half-expecting him to make some joke about avoiding his mother-in-law.
"Yes, I'm sure peanut," Wade quipped, the usual humor creeping back into his voice. "And besides, I can't let you have all the fun. We'll be there as soon as we can."
"Thanks," I muttered, genuinely appreciating the backup, even if it came with Wade's usual chaos.
"Just make sure my dog's still in one piece when I get there," Wade added, his tone lightening again. "And tell her I'm coming for her, with lots of treats."
"Yeah, yeah," I replied, shaking my head. "Just get here quick."
With that, I hung up the phone, handing it back to Peter, who was still watching me with that curious expression he always had when things got interesting.
"So, looks like the cavalry's coming," I said, feeling a little more at ease knowing Wade was on his way.
---
It was later in the afternoon, and I left Laura back at the mansion while I headed to the apartment to grab a few things. As I walked in through the blasted door, the familiar scent of Violet hit me like a wave. It was a mix of her perfume and something uniquely her, and it made my chest tighten with a longing I hadn't realized I'd been holding back. I missed her more than I could put into words.
Shaking off the emotions, I focused on my task: finding Dog Pool. I moved through the apartment, searching each room until I finally found her under our bed, happily gnawing on one of Violet's shoes. A little growl of frustration escaped me as I crouched down to grab the dog.
"She's going to kill you when she wakes up," I muttered, half to the dog and half to myself, as I picked her up. The dog looked up at me with those innocent eyes, clearly unbothered by the destruction she was causing.
I let out a sigh, deciding to let it go for now. There were more important things to worry about. After stashing the chewed-up shoe somewhere out of sight, I quickly gathered some clothes for both me and Laura, tossing them into a bag. I found my phone that was stuffed in the couch cushions. Right next to it was Violet's gem bracelet. I quickly put it in my pocket as a reminder of her even though she's always on my mind.
With Dog Pool securely tucked under one arm and the bag slung over my shoulder, I walked out the door, casting one last glance around the apartment. It felt empty without Violet here, a stark reminder of everything that had happened. I closed the remaining of the door behind me, hoping that the next time I walked through it, it would be with Violet by my side, fully awake and ready to tear into Wade's dog for her shoe.
-- Night had fully settled by the time I made it back inside the mansion. The halls were quieter now, the usual bustle of the day replaced by a more subdued atmosphere. The only sounds were the soft hum of the building and the faint echoes of footsteps from distant rooms. As I walked through the dimly lit corridors, the weight of everything that had happened today pressed down on me. Dog Pool, still nestled in my arm, had finally settled down, her small, rhythmic breathing a steady comfort in the otherwise silent night.
When I reached the medical wing, the lights were low, and the soft beeping of monitors was the only indication of life in the room. I stepped inside, immediately spotting Laura sitting by Violet's bedside, her eyes focused intently on the woman who had become so important to both of us.
Laura glanced up as I entered, her expression a mix of worry and exhaustion. "Did you get what you needed?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah," I replied, setting the bag down and carefully placing Dog Pool on the floor. The little dog sniffed around before curling up in a corner, finally deciding to rest.
I walked over to Violet's bedside, taking in the sight of her lying there so still. Her chest rose and fell steadily, but she hadn't stirred since we brought her in. I reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, feeling a pang of longing mixed with frustration.
"How's she doing?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
"No change," Laura whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. "But I know she's strong. She'll wake up."
I nodded, hoping Laura was right. I pulled up a chair next to hers, sitting down and leaning forward, my elbows resting on my knees. The room was quiet, the soft glow of the monitors casting a faint light over us.
We sat in silence, the weight of the night pressing down on us as we watched over Violet. The quiet was almost oppressive, the only sounds coming from the faint beeping of the monitors. Laura sat next to me, her eyes fixed on Violet, while I kept my thoughts focused on anything but the worst-case scenarios.
Then, the silence was broken by the soft whoosh of the doors opening. Laura and I both looked up at the same time, and there, entering the room, were Charles and Storm.
Charles rolled in with his usual calm demeanor, his eyes scanning the room before settling on Violet. Beside him, Storm walked with that quiet grace she always had, her presence commanding yet soothing at the same time.
"Logan," Charles greeted me softly, his voice filled with understanding. "Laura."
"Charles, Storm," I replied with a nod, acknowledging them both. Laura offered a small nod as well, her expression cautious but respectful.Charles wheeled himself closer to Violet's bedside, his eyes filled with concern as he observed her condition. "Hank updated me on what's been happening," he said, his tone gentle. "How are you both holding up?"
I glanced at Laura, then back at Charles. "We're managing," I said, though the strain in my voice was clear. "Just waiting for her to wake up."
Storm stepped forward, her gaze soft as she looked down at Violet. "She's seems like a fighter, Logan. She'll wake up."
"I know," I replied, my voice rough. "I just hate this waiting."
Charles nodded, his expression understanding. "Waiting can be the hardest part, but you're doing everything you can by being by her side."
There was a brief silence as Charles studied Violet, his brows furrowing slightly. Then he looked up at me, his eyes thoughtful. "Would you like me to try reaching out to her mind? It might help... or at the very least, we could get some sense of where she is."
I hesitated, the idea of someone probing her mind making me uneasy. But if it could help... I looked at Laura, and she gave me a small nod, her silent way of saying she trusted Charles.
"Alright," I said finally. "Give it a shot."
Charles gave a reassuring nod, then closed his eyes, focusing as he reached out with his mind. The room seemed to grow even quieter, the tension palpable as we all waited to see if he could make any connection with Violet.
Charles POV
As I entered Violet's mind, I found myself standing in a vast, endless expanse of white. The emptiness stretched out in all directions, silent and still. In the distance, I noticed a small house, standing alone against the backdrop of nothingness. It seemed out of place, yet somehow fitting in this strange, mental landscape.
I began walking toward the house, each step echoing softly in the void. When I reached the door, I hesitated for a moment, then pushed it open. Inside, the atmosphere was entirely different—warm, almost comforting. There she was, Violet, sitting in the center of the room, her legs crossed as she floated just above the floor. A soft, purple glow of magic surrounded her, gently pulsing with energy.
Her eyes were closed, but the moment I stepped through the door, they opened. Her gaze met mine, calm yet distant, as if she was both here and somewhere far away."Violet," I said softly, stepping closer. "You need to wake up."
She looked at me with a serene smile, a strange sense of peace in her expression. "Violet is alright," she said, her voice echoing slightly in the empty space. "She just needs to rest."
Before I could respond, she flicked her wrist, and suddenly, an invisible force slammed into me, sending me flying backward. The next thing I knew, I was being expelled from her mind with such force that it made me physically flinch.
Logans POV
I watched Charles intently, my nerves on edge as he entered Violet's mind. The room was dead quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the machines monitoring her condition. Then, suddenly, Charles flinched, his body jolting slightly as if he'd been physically hit. My heart skipped a beat, and I leaned forward, tension tightening in my chest.
A moment later, he opened his eyes, and I could see the strain in them, like whatever he'd just experienced had taken a toll. "Charles?" I asked, my voice rougher than I intended. "What happened? Did you reach her?"
Charles took a breath, steadying himself before speaking. "I did," he said, his tone calm but with an underlying unease. "She's alright, but... she's not ready to wake up yet. She's resting, and it seems she doesn't want to be disturbed."
I felt a mix of relief and frustration at his words. Relief that she was okay, but frustration that she still wasn't coming back to us. "What do you mean she doesn't want to be disturbed?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. "She's just gonna stay like this?"
Charles looked at me, his expression serious. "She's in a state of deep rest, Logan. Whatever she's been through, something is protecting her. She needs time to recover, and she's chosen to do so in her own way. I tried to reach out, but she... pushed me out."
"Pushed you out?" Laura echoed, her voice laced with concern.
Charles nodded. "Yes, with a significant force. It was clear that she wants to be left alone for now. But she's safe, Logan. That much I can assure you."
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of the situation settle in. "So we just wait?"
"For now, yes," Charles said gently. "All we can do is give her the time she needs and be here when she's ready to return."
I looked at Violet, her still form lying there, and the helplessness I felt was almost overwhelming. But there was nothing more I could do—nothing but wait and hope that when she was ready, she'd come back to us.
-
I woke up to the sensation of Dog Pool's tongue on my cheek, her persistent licking pulling me out of sleep. Groaning slightly, I wiped my face and looked over at the clock hanging on the wall. It was 8 a.m., and I could already feel the stiffness in my back from sleeping on the hospital bed. It wasn't exactly the most comfortable place to sleep, but it was the closest bed to Violet, even if she was in a different room.
I stretched, feeling the ache in my muscles as I sat up. Dog Pool wagged her tail, clearly pleased with herself for waking me up. "Alright, alright," I muttered, giving her a quick pat on the head. "Let's see how she's doing."
Laura was upstairs, in one of the rooms with the other kids. I figured it was better for her to be around them, to get some rest in a proper bed, even if I couldn't bring myself to leave Violet's side. At least this way, Laura would have some semblance of normalcy.
I stood up, feeling the stiffness in my joints, and headed for Violet's room. The door was slightly ajar, and as I pushed it open, I saw that Hank was already there, standing by her bedside. He was checking the monitors, his face serious but focused.
"Morning, Hank," I said quietly as I stepped into the room.
Hank glanced up, giving me a small nod. "Morning, Logan. I was just going over her vitals again."
I moved closer, my eyes immediately going to Violet. She looked peaceful, but there was still no sign of her waking up. The machines around her beeped softly, a constant reminder of the limbo we were all stuck in.
"Any change?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
"Nothing significant," Hank replied, his tone measured. "Her body's stable, but her mind... it's still in that resting state. She's not ready to come back just yet."
I let out a slow breath, trying to push back the frustration and helplessness that threatened to overwhelm me. "I just want her to wake up," I muttered, more to myself than to Hank.
"I know," Hank said, his voice gentle. "And she will. But whatever she's been through, it's going to take time. Right now, all we can do is be patient and make sure she's surrounded by people who care about her when she does wake up."
I nodded, my gaze never leaving Violet's face. Patience had never been my strong suit, but for her, I'd wait as long as it took.
----
Just as I was settling into the quiet of the room, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw Wade's name on the screen. Finally. I answered, and before I could say anything, Wade's voice came through loud and clear.
"Hey, Logan! Just got off the plane—Vanessa and I are on our way to the mansion. Dog Pool better be alive and well, or I'm holding you personally responsible for every single shoe she chews from now on."
I rolled my eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth despite everything. "She's fine, Wade. Just get here."
"On it! We'll be there soon. Prepare the red carpet!" Wade quipped before hanging up.
With Wade and Vanessa on their way, I decided to head to the kitchen for some breakfast. I hadn't eaten since last night, and the gnawing hunger was becoming hard to ignore. As I made my way through the mansion, my mind was still on Violet, but I knew I needed to keep my strength up—for her, and for whatever came next.
When I reached the kitchen, the scent of fresh coffee and something frying on the stove filled the air. I rounded the corner, expecting to find it empty at this hour, but instead, I stopped dead in my tracks.
Standing by the counter, flipping pancakes with a casual ease, was someone I thought I'd never see again. Scott Summers—Mr.Cyclops. He looked up when he heard me enter, and for a moment, both of us just stared at each other, the shock evident on his face as well.
"Logan," Scott finally said, his voice a mix of surprise and something else I couldn't quite place. He gave me a once-over, his gaze lingering on the lines in my face, the graying at my temples. "You're here and... old."
I huffed out a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah, well, you're a dick.
Scott's expression softened, and he nodded. "I Guess I am."
There was a brief, awkward silence as we both stood there, trying to bridge the gap between what was and what is. Eventually, Scott broke the silence, gesturing to the pancakes. "You want some? I was making enough for a small army, anyway."
I hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Sure, why not."
As I sat down at the table, Scott brought over a plate stacked high with pancakes and a mug of coffee. It was strange, sitting here with him like this, after everything. But maybe, in some weird way, it was also what I needed—a reminder that, despite the chaos, some things still made sense.
As I dug into the pancakes, I couldn't help but think about the twisted paths our lives had taken to bring us to this moment. And while I wasn't sure where we stood now, it was good to know that some connections, no matter how strained, could still be there when you needed them.
As I took a bite of the pancakes, Scott leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched me. There was something searching in his gaze, like he was still trying to wrap his head around what he was seeing.
"When they told me you were alive..." he began, then paused, shaking his head slightly as if to correct himself. "Well, I mean, when they told me there was another you, I couldn't believe it."
I looked up at him, swallowing my mouthful of food before replying. "Yeah, trust me, it's been a trip for me too. I'm not exactly the Logan you knew, but... here I am."
Scott nodded, his expression thoughtful. "It's weird, you know? Seeing you here, older, but still... you. Part of me keeps expecting the Logan I remember to walk through the door, full of his usual stubbornness and bravado."
I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "Well, I've still got the stubbornness, if that counts for anything."
Scott allowed himself a small smile, but there was a lingering sadness in his eyes. "It counts for a lot, actually. I never thought I'd get a chance to see you again, even if it's not exactly the same you. But maybe... maybe it's close enough."
I nodded, understanding the weight behind his words. For all the differences, there were still some things that hadn't changed, and maybe that was enough for now.
"Yeah," I said quietly, looking down at the plate of pancakes. "Maybe it is."
We lapsed into a comfortable silence after that, the kind that comes from shared history and mutual respect, even if the details are different. As I continued eating, Scott poured himself a cup of coffee, leaning back against the counter as he sipped it slowly.
"So," he said after a while, breaking the silence, "what's the plan now? With everything going on, I mean."
I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. "Honestly? Right now, I'm just focused on getting Violet to wake up. After that... we'll see."
Scott nodded again, his expression serious. "Is she your girl friend or something "
I met his gaze, and smirked " Yeah she is." continue with Scott saying something cocky towards Logan
Scott raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Well, well, Logan. I didn't think you were the type to settle down. Guess there's a first time for everything, huh?"
I shot him a look, the smirk fading into something more serious. "Yeah, well, I don't need your approval, Summers."
Scott chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Didn't say you did, old man. Just surprised is all. But hey, if she's with you, she must have a thing for grumpy, brooding types. Lucky you."
I narrowed my eyes at him, not in the mood for his usual cocky attitude. "Careful, Summers. I might be from a different universe, but I'm still not above knocking you on your ass if you push it."
Scott held up his hands in mock surrender, the grin still on his face. "Easy there, Wolverine. Just making sure you've still got that edge. Wouldn't want you to get soft now that you've got someone to worry about."
Scott's grin softened, the teasing fading as he gave me a more genuine look. "But in all seriousness Logan. Just... take care of her. Sounds like she's been through Hell."
I nodded, my tone more even. "I will. That's not something you need to worry about."
Scott nodded back, the moment of rivalry giving way to a mutual understanding. "Good."
As I chewed on my food, the thoughts of my past began to creep in, unbidden and unwelcome. Memories of battles, of lost friends, and of Jean. The weight of those memories made the pancakes taste like ash in my mouth. I glanced over at Scott, who was sipping his coffee, his gaze distant.
He must have noticed something in my expression because he looked up at me, eyebrows raised. "What?" he asked, his tone curious but cautious.
I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. Part of me didn't want to bring it up, but the question had been gnawing at me since I got here. Finally, I just spit it out. "Is Jean here... I mean, is she...?"
Before I could finish, Scott cut me off, his voice flat and final. "She's gone, Logan."
The air between us seemed to thicken, heavy with the weight of that simple statement. I looked down at my plate, the memories of Jean from my world flashing through my mind. The love, the loss, the guilt—it was all still there, no matter the universe.
Scott must have sensed where my thoughts were heading because he tried to lighten the mood, though there was a forced edge to his tone. "What, were you trying to steal my girl in your universe, huh?"
I looked up at him, a sad smile tugging at my lips. "She was always your girl, Scott," I replied, the honesty in my voice unmistakable. "But... she died in mine too."
Scott's face softened, the banter falling away as he absorbed my words. "How did she die here?" I asked, the question heavy with the shared pain of loss.
Scott sighed, setting his coffee cup down on the counter. "She sacrificed herself to save all of us. She couldn't control the Phoenix, and in the end, she chose to stop it the only way she knew how."
I nodded slowly, the ache in my chest familiar, even if the details were different. "Sounds like her," I said quietly. "She always put others first."
Scott nodded in agreement, his eyes clouded with old grief. "Yeah... she did."For a moment, we just sat there in silence, both of us lost in our own memories of the woman we'd both loved in different ways, in different worlds. It was a strange kind of bond, one forged in shared loss and the understanding that some things, no matter the universe, were just meant to be.
Eventually, I looked up at Scott, my voice steady. "I'm sorry, Scott."
He met my gaze, and for the first time in a long time, there was a flicker of something like understanding between us. "Me too, Logan. Me too."
---
Just as I was finishing my breakfast, I heard the unmistakable sound of Wade's voice echoing through the mansion. It wasn't long before he burst into the kitchen, full of his usual energy, with Vanessa following close behind.
"Logan!" Wade shouted, his face lighting up with that familiar, slightly manic grin. Before I could react, he wrapped me in a bear hug that nearly knocked the wind out of me. But, in true Wade fashion, he followed it up with a slap on the shoulder, not entirely playful. "That's for leaving my precious Dog Pool alone, you big, irresponsible lug! You're lucky she didn't redecorate your whole place in the color of destruction!"
I smirked, rubbing my shoulder where he'd slapped me. "She's fine, Wade. More worried about Violet's shoes than anything else."
"Yeah, well, priorities, man!" Wade retorted, though there was a glint of concern in his eyes beneath the humor.
Vanessa stepped forward, offering me a warm hug that I didn't mind at all. There was something comforting about her presence, a calmness that balanced out Wade's chaotic energy. "It's good to see you, Logan," she said softly as she pulled back, her expression turning serious. "Where's Violet? Is she alright?"
I nodded, but the tension in my shoulders must have given away the fact that everything wasn't quite alright. "She's in the medical wing," I replied, my voice a bit strained. "She's stable, but... she hasn't woken up yet."
Vanessa's face softened with concern. "Oh, Logan," she murmured, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on my arm. "I'm so sorry. we'll get through this."
Wade's usual bravado dimmed slightly, and he nodded. "Yeah, we're here now, man. Whatever you need, you got it."
I gave them both a grateful nod, appreciating their support more than I could express. "Thanks. It means a lot."
"Don't mention it," Wade said, though his voice was softer than usual. "Now let's go check on Violet. And maybe, just maybe, we can all figure out a way to get her back on her feet—so she can kill me for that shoe."
Together, we made our way to the medical wing, the weight of the situation heavy on all of us, but the presence of friends making it just a little easier to bear.
We made our way to the room where Violet was resting, and as we stepped inside, I noticed Laura was already there, sitting in a chair by the bedside, casually eating a bowl of cereal. She looked up when we entered, quickly setting the bowl aside and standing up to greet us.
"Hey, Wade. Vanessa," Laura said with a small smile, her tone a bit more relaxed than usual.
Vanessa immediately walked over to her and wrapped her in a warm hug, something Laura wasn't entirely used to, but she didn't pull away. "It's good to see you, Laura," Vanessa said, her voice full of warmth.
Wade gave Laura a quick nod, a flicker of his usual playfulness in his eyes, but he kept his focus mostly on Violet. As they approached the bed, Vanessa's expression turned to one of deep concern, while Wade, ever the joker, couldn't help but make a comment.
"Wow, Violet," Wade said, his voice laced with a mix of humor and genuine concern. "Gotta say, that's one hell of a suit you've got on there. Looks like something straight out of a comic book. Or maybe a sci-fi movie. Either way, I approve."
Vanessa shot him a look, half-amused, half-reproachful. "Wade..."
"What?" Wade shrugged innocently. "I'm just saying, if she wakes up and decides to join a superhero team, she's already got the outfit."
Despite the situation, I couldn't help but smirk at Wade's comment. Leave it to him to find a way to make light of even the most serious situations. But I knew it was his way of dealing with things—humor was his armor, his way of keeping the darkness at bay.
Vanessa gently touched Violet's hand, her concern evident. "We're here, Logan," she said softly, turning to look at me. "Whatever happens, we're with you."
I nodded, feeling the support of those around me. It was a small comfort, but in a situation like this, even small comforts made a big difference.
Wade leaned down a bit closer to Violet, his usual smirk softening into something almost tender. "Alright, Violet," he said quietly, "time to wake up and show us all up. We're not the same without you around to keep us in line."
Vanessa smiled softly at his words, and Laura, still standing nearby, watched with a mix of hope and uncertainty.
All we could do now was wait and hope that Violet would respond, knowing that when she did, she'd be met with all the support and care we could offer.
Part 13: Fractured memories
#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett#hugh jackman#logan howlett x reader#x men#deadpool#wolverine#fanfic#marvel
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Ben Angst go brrr
~
When he woke up he was nowhere.
Or somewhere? Had to be somewhere.
Everything was confusing; he felt dizzy, like his brain was going to leak out of his ears at any second. He had to center himself, just for a moment. The drained walls of the facility pierced into his skull; he couldn’t see right. His breathing couldn’t keep up with his body, but he managed to set himself straight, if just for a moment. ‘Where am I?! Where the hell am I?!’ Ben’s thoughts continued to race with the same words over and over and over and over. He gripped the sheets of the bed below him, ‘am I back in the hospital?’ Ben felt sick to the pit of his stomach. ‘I can’t be back there. I can’t be back. I can’t be back…’ Logically, Ben knew that he wasn’t back in the hospital, last he remembered, he was back at the school. At the school. At the…school. He was drugged. Some men plowed in and drugged him; they got Logan and Taylor, and then all memories since then faded away. ‘I didn’t do anything... I was out immediately... Why did it happen?... I should have done something. What if I- I could have… I- maybe, if…but..’ He couldn’t get his thoughts straight; the moment of clarity delved into rage.
‘I’m not an angry person anymore, I’m not an angry person anymore, I’m not an angry person anymore, I’m not an angry person anymore, I’m not an angry person anymore, I’m not an angry person anymore, I’m not an angry person anymore, I’m not an angry person, I’m not an angry person, I’m not an angry person, I’m not an angry person, I’m not angry I’m not angry I’m not angry I’m not angry I’m not angry I’m not ANGRY.’ His fist hit smack against the tiled wall. Nothing happened. His knuckles hurt. Nothing happened. Something needs to happen.
A sense of what felt like acid bubbling in his stomach started creeping its way up his throat. His thoughts were everywhere but where they needed to be. He immediately stood up and kicked his bare foot into the bed frame. Nothing Happened. His foot hurt. Nothing happened. ‘Something needs to happen’. He was swiftly blind with rage. The shaking feeling in his fist wouldn’t cease. He looked around and stomped towards the wood table, keeping tears back.. ‘I can’t do this, I need to sit down.’ he tried to remind himself but it was hopeless. He grabbed the table and threw it. He didn’t know in what direction. He just heard it hit the wall and a rush shivered up his spine. He reached for anything in his blurred view. Anything at all. He didn't even know what he was grabbing; he was just throwing and throwing. Ripping out dresser drawers, tearing up a sheet, kicking pillows. He grabbed the frame of the bed and lifted it. He tried to scream but nothing happened.
It seems he forgot how.
He slammed his head into the still held up bed frame, ‘why am I still like this.’ A tear worked down his face, he hastily wiped it off with one arm and with all the strength he could muster, he flipped the entire bed over, the icing on his disaster of a cake. “why” He barely said in a whisper. The sound of his own twisted, disgusting voice sent him a step back, he practically fell to his knees, he saw his reflection in the tiled floor and just started punching the ground. ‘whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy’ his thoughts kept repeating over and over again. Why did he have to be bullied? Why did he have to be beat? Why did he have to say goodbye to his passion? Why did he have to get stuck fighting Phantoms every night? Why did he get taken out? Why did he not manage to fight back? Why was he here? Why…..’why am I angry’.
He looked at his reflection on the floor. There was a bit of blood on his knuckles and dripping over his miserable reflection. Ben stood up and took a few steps back. He looked at the masterpiece the monster inside him made. The shaking feeling in his fist was gone. He sighed. Back against the wall, he slid down to the floor and sat in guilt and shame. ‘why’.
~
Absolute yap fest, hope you enjoyed😭🙏
#I FINALLY DID IT#ARE YOU FULL?#Is 729 words enough to fill you beasts???#Ben clark#BEN ANGST#ben angst#sbg#school bus graveyard#school bus graveyard angst#webtoon#sbg webtoon#school bus graveyard fanfiction#sbg ben#school bus graveyard webtoon#Clark#ben sbg#angst#writing#fanfiction#fanfic#writeblr#my writing
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tragic endings
pairings — logan (james) howlett x fem!human!reader
summary — in which, after she takes in a young, troubled mutant in and vows to protect her from all dangers that she seems to be in, she meets the famously-brooding wolverine, who unexpectedly changes her life.
word count — 16.2k.
warnings — mentions of reader suffering through parental neglect and abuse as a child and having LOADS of trauma (LOTS of heavy hints of ptsd too!), mentions of reader taking some lives in order to protect laura and carrying a LOT of guilt, ANGST (obviously, because this isn't a happy ending type of fic), some fluff in it though, reader's in her early twenties, character death and self-sacrifice, equal pining, kisses, use of pet-names [kid, sweetheart, doll], mentions of the reader being depressed and having anxiety and also being suicidal / wanting to die, also a little bit of logan and the reader posing as laura's parents, reader has abandonment and codependency issues, reader also has raging anger issues.
notes — i have one word to describe this fic: long. it is going to be VERY long. also, i love that i finally finish this right as i find out that my grandma passed away... we love grief! gif and divider creds to owner!
p.s., feedback is very much encouraged and appreciated <3.
main masterlist
IT'S SORT OF... COMPLICATED. ALL she knows, is that she feels something — something she can't quite explain — for the little girl that has suffered through so much pain and loss.
how could someone who suffered through so much pain at the hands of her own parents could become a motherly figure to a misunderstood little girl? well, maybe it's just because she couldn't help it.
she may have had a rough childhood, but [y/n] could just feel it in her heart that laura needed someone to show her that she mattered — that she was worth the hard journey of making it out of everything alive.
so, is it really that hard to see why she would do anything to get her safe? even go to the older, grumpy — clearly retired — wolverine for help?
"look, kid. you seem like you've got good intentions. but, i can't afford to have anymore trouble by helping you and the girl out." logan grumbles, after laura had arrived to knock out the asshole that dared try to mess shit up for him, charles, and caliban.
[y/n] sighs, trying to keep an eye on laura, who has just now begun to walk over to charles. "i can't say i don't get it. because... i do," she sympathetically states, understanding that he just wants to be left alone from all the danger that being a mutant brings.
with another sigh, she watches the young girl interact with charles with a sense of comfort, before turning back to face the older man, who's been watching her warily. "look, i know she's not my daughter — not by blood. but, i love her like she's my own. and she doesn't deserve to be hunted down and killed like a monster. she's done nothing wrong."
"so, i'm only asking you to get us somewhere safe, where we can travel away from on our own. i'll pay you whatever and however much you want. but, i'm not abandoning her — i'm going to protect her with everything i have, for as long as possible."
there's a moment of silence as he doesn't say anything. but, after realizing that his silence is his answer, [y/n] nods wordlessly, trying not to get emotional over the fact that she and laura are on their own to find somewhere safe for them to go.
"right. like i said, i get it." she mumbles, sighing.
an unexpected look of regret flashes in logan's eyes, but [y/n] doesn't see it, due to motioning for laura to come over to her.
a look of disappointment takes over the little girl's expression as [y/n] turns back to face the wolverine. "look, i'm sorry for bothering you about this. clearly... this was both a mistake and a waste of time." she murmurs as laura comes up from behind her and grabs her hand.
"and i hope these guys," she stops to point to the unconscious man still lying on the ground. "don't give you any more trouble."
he sighs and nods, still watching her warily as he begins to wonder why a human would risk so much — and her life — just to protect this little girl that he's been growing more curious about by every passing second.
he also finds her a little bit annoying, but nevertheless, it's all the same amount.
with no other words being said between them, [y/n] gives him a forced and fake smile, hoping that she doesn't make him feel guilty for not being able to help them, as she gently tugs on laura's hand to tell her that it's time for them to go.
as they walk further away, logan begins to wonder if he made a mistake — for not agreeing to help them.
after all, it's always been a first instinct and part of his nature to help and protect people. or at least, when he had been part of the x-men team.
—————
THE NEXT TIME THEY MEET, it's a few days later — after logan, charles, and caliban had been attacked by the group called alkali-transigen for the second time.
caliban had been captured by this group, while logan and charles were able to escape in logan's crappy limo-like car.
the two men had found laura and [y/n] sitting in an alley. laura was fast asleep, lying her head on the older woman's shoulder.
[y/n] shivers, tugging the tiny blanket further over laura's sleeping form as the sound of the limo pulls up near the entrance.
worried that they're found again by the cruel men that just wouldn't leave them alone, [y/n] cautiously pops open an eye, brows furrowing. she leans forward, trying to get a better look.
but, she stops suddenly as she notices logan stepping out of his car, confusion filled on his face. "logan? w—what are you doing here?"
"kid, why didn't you tell me that you guys didn't have anywhere else to go?" he asks her once he gets to the actual entrance of the alley.
she shrugs, sitting up now as she tries to ignore the cold weather. "i could tell you didn't want to be bothered. i thought it would've just been easier if i lied." she murmurs, stopping completely as laura begins to stir a bit in her sleep.
once the young girl has stopped moving in her sleep completely, [y/n] impulsively decides to move to stand up, in order to give the young girl all the room she needs.
so, within a few cautious and quiet seconds, she slowly moves herself away and moves laura to the side, before placing her jacket under her head to use as a pillow.
with a prolonged, nervous sigh, [y/n] then takes in a relieved inhale as the little girl falls right back to sleep without any further disturbance.
"you know, if i knew you guys had nowhere else to go... " logan trails off when she turns to finally face him.
with another sigh leaving her, [y/n] lightly grabs onto his arm — in which, who flinches for more than a second — before leading him over to the front of his parked car.
"look, logan. we both know that you probably would have still said no." she murmurs, making sure to keep an eye on laura every few seconds while speaking with him.
logan sighs, knowing that she is right — no matter how many times he wishes to believe otherwise.
but, there's also another part of him that knows that he would probably help her and laura in a heartbeat, if he weren't growing slowly weak every day. but, he is — it both slows him down and makes it hard for him to help them to his full potential.
he opens his mouth to say something, but charles, who'd rolled down his window from inside the car before and heard the twos' conversation, interrupts him, "logan, they need our help — we should help them."
with a small smile almost curving onto her lips, [y/n] sighs. she knows that she can't just drag him and logan into this. it just wouldn't be fair.
"no, please. it's really alright. i don't want to put you guys in this complicated situation." she murmurs, just as laura stirs again in her sleep.
charles shrugs his shoulder, as if he wouldn't mind if they got dragged into it. but, then again, he's never been one to turn down the chance to help others when they need it.
"really, guys... it's okay. laura and i will manage on our own." she murmurs as she turns to walk back over to the little girl and gently and carefully pick her up.
as she faces them and walks back over to logan with laura still in her arms, covered up in both [y/n]'s jacket and blanket, logan furrows his brows. "are you sure?"
the concern in his voice shocks her, but she waves it off as him just trying to be polite. "y—yeah. we'll be fine." she nods, gulping down her pride as she lies through her teeth, once again.
in a way, she's grateful that he'd said earlier that he couldn't help her and the girl. i mean, [y/n] is the type of person to deal with her own issues and problems by herself, instead of choosing to burden people with them — her words, not mine.
her going to logan for help was really just a moment of weakness. she was desperate — only wanting to do whatever she could to try every possibility that would protect laura and get them anywhere safe.
truthfully, the main reason why she's lying to them about really needing their help, is the fact that she feels guilty — it's already obvious that logan feels regretful that he didn't agree to help them.
and guilt-tripping them — mostly logan — that was never her intention. so, if she has to lie to make him feel better about the situation, then that's what she's going to do.
"you don't have to lie, [y/n]. there's nothing wrong with admitting when you need help." charles tells her from his side of the open window.
the young woman mentally slaps her hand to her forehead in irritation over forgetting that the extremely older man is psychic.
she stutters, hating that she can't hide the truth from them. "i... i just don't want to be a burden. and... i don't know what i'd do if either of you got seriously hurt because you guys decided to help us — everyone gets hurt when they get involved with me."
with a relentless sigh, logan simply nods to the car. "we'll figure it out, okay? just get in."
she hesitates for a moment, wondering if dragging them into this mess is really the right answer.
after all, she knows that if either of them gets hurt — in any way — because of her, she'll never forgive herself.
but, as laura recklessly jumps down from [y/n]'s arms, causing a shocked gasp to leave her, and runs over to the other door opposite of the one charles is sitting behind, she sighs.
both [y/n] and logan share a look of a tiny bit of amusement.
with a tired yawn, she shrugs her shoulder, knowing that she won't be able to change the little girl's mind now as she opens the door and slides in.
"i... guess laura would like to take you guys up on that offer. so, i'm not really in a place to say no now." she mutters as logan leads her to the front of the car.
if only they had known all the bigger trouble they'd all have to endure in the future, all because they allowed the possibility of helping them become a reality.
—————
AFTER MANY DIFFERENT NIGHTS OF passing through different towns, logan finally stops at a gas station that's in the middle of nowhere.
[y/n] follows laura over to one of the electric horses, while logan and charles stay back in the car. as she leads laura up and over the horse to sit down, [y/n] places some quarters into the machine.
"there you go," she murmurs, giving the younger girl a warm smile. "now, i'm going inside to use the bathroom. i'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"
the girl silently nods as [y/n] hesitates to leave her alone.
but, nevertheless, after realizing that, not only are they all in the clear — for now — but logan and charles will surely watch her for a few minutes, while she's in the bathroom.
with the positive thoughts swirling around in her head, [y/n] finally walks over to the door, before walking inside.
after asking the person at the front of the store where the bathroom is, he points in the direction of where it is, and [y/n] races off in that direction in a hurry as she really needs to use the bathroom.
the young woman tries to pee as fast as she can, considering that they're all still on the run and practically fugitives at this point.
then, as she walks over to the sink, she rinses off and washes her hands. but, as she sees all the blood — from the previous days of running into trouble with the group that had started all of this — dried up on both her hands, arms, and face, panic begins to quickly sink in.
to protect laura, [y/n] had to take extra precautions and do whatever she could, to do just that.
not only had she been injured, but she had also had to do two things she'd always said she'd never do — learn how to shoot guns and really any other weapons, all the while also having to take some lives.
it was self-defense, of course. but, still.
the guilt and trauma she's endured because of the fact that she's killed some people... well, it's taken too much of a toll on her.
all she kept thinking was, how can i live with myself, after all the things i've done?
she still thinks this as she tensely and harshly tries to scrub all the blood away.
[y/n] has always dealt with self-image issues and her internal hatred for herself — especially, with growing up in the toxic household that she had as a kid. but, this? it's extra new and multiplied now.
shaky breaths and unshed tears escape her as she looks up at herself in the mirror this time.
but, just before the negative thoughts can become any worse, there's a knock on the bathroom door.
[y/n]'s head snaps up in the direction of the door, more panic filling her. "just a minute!" she yells to the person on the other side of the door as she tries to scrub harder to get the blood off.
her breaths become more panicked as logan's voice speaks up from outside. "[y/n], i'm coming in."
her eyes widen in both surprise and shock. as the door slowly opens, she panics and turns around, so that she's leaning against the sink and is hiding her hands behind her back.
just as he walks inside, [y/n] lets out a shaky, "h—hey. is everyone... ready to go?"
however, logan doesn't reply to her. he only steps closer to her as he crosses his arms over his chest with confusion swirling around in his eyes. "what's going on? did something happen?"
she abruptly shakes her head, dipping her head down to avoid showing any weakness. "everything's f—fine."
"don't lie to me. what's going on?" he asks her once more, stepping even closer to her, to the point of them only being a few inches away from each other.
with a sigh of defeat, [y/n] shakily pulls her hands out from behind her back. "i... i can't get the blood off — their blood. it won't come off." she whispers shakily.
he frowns, stepping even closer to her.
the young woman's breath catches in her throat as the space between them decreases by every passing second.
though, the concerned look in his eyes scares [y/n].
as someone who's never experienced someone worrying about her and her well-being in her entire life, just the thought of someone actually taking care of her, terrifies her, to be completely honest.
they stare at each other for a long moment, before logan slowly reaches for a paper towel and moves over closer to one of the sinks and turns it on to run the paper towel through some water. then, he brings the towel back to her and starts to gently scrub her hands and arms.
within a few minutes, he has successfully gotten the blood off of her hands, arms, and face. as he throws the paper towel away, her gaze softens as he steps away from her to give her her space.
"t—thank you." she murmurs raspily, trying to act as if she hadn't let him see her in such a vulnerable state.
he simply nods hesitantly, now stuck in his thoughts.
when they had first met, he — no matter how many times he's tried to ignore it — had become just slightly curious about her.
but, now? he can't help but find himself completely consumed with the feeling of concern and curiosity over her.
after another long moment of them just looking at one another, [y/n] finally snaps herself out of her daze, shaking her head in silent embarrassment. "i... i think i'm going to find laura and get back to the car. i think i've been in here long enough, right?" she tries to crack a joke, desperately needing to change the subject.
logan nods once more, before motioning to the door as he waits for her to leave first.
once she's officially out of the bathroom and through the hall, he follows after her.
though, before either of them can actually leave the building, both adults find them watching a very shocking scene playing before them.
laura has her claws grown out of her skin, and she holds down the current worker of the small gas station, an angry look placed on her face.
"oh, god..." [y/n] trails off, sharing a similar expression with logan.
as the young girl yells out, [y/n] snaps her head towards that direction and her eyes widen in shock and surprise.
then, she races over to the two of them, and gently pulls laura away from the man. her grasp immediately falls away from the man's when [y/n]'s gentle touch connects with her body.
"laura!" she murmurs in a slight lecturing tone, though it's still gentle. "you can't do stuff like that. you can't hurt innocent people, okay? you understand me?"
after a moment, the little girl finally nods and in a matter of seconds, her claws retract back into the skin of her knuckles.
[y/n] sighs in relief, before leading her back to the car, while logan stays inside for a few more minutes.
later that night, they arrive at a hotel. both [y/n] and laura fall fast asleep the second they reach their bed.
logan, however, struggles to stay asleep.
—————
SHE WAKES UP IN THE middle of the night, breathless gasps and hyperventilating breaths leaving her.
as she continues to struggle to breathe, she notices the little girl, who’s lying beside her, is still fast asleep.
she runs a shaky hand through her slightly knotted up and greasy hair as her heart begins to beat faster than ever and her breaths become much more panicked.
if only she didn’t have that nightmare — of all the lives she’s taken to protect laura. it’s a relentless, repetitive terrifying dream that she has been having almost every night, ever since it happened.
with another moment of her panicking state becoming much more worse, she shakily and quietly — as much as she can — takes off her blanket and rushes off in the direction of the bathroom.
too buried deep in her panicked thoughts and the flashbacks that the nightmare has provided for her, she doesn’t even notice the wolverine sitting in the other room that leads to the bathroom.
she only stumbles into the bathroom and quietly shuts the door.
as she slides down the door, she doesn’t even realize that the light is still off. she’s only focused on trying to not go into full panic mode, or worse, slip off of the edge and begin to have a panic attack.
but, it’s quite too late for that.
she’s already slipping and losing all of her control over her breathing. another painful and breathless sob leaves her lips and her head falls to lean against the door as she clenches her eyes shut.
the tears fall carelessly down her cheeks and she cries out in frustration. god, she hates crying. it has always made her feel weak.
she shakily stands up as she quickly flicks the light switch on. but, as she looks into the mirror and sees her wrecked appearance, another shaky breath escapes her lips.
[y/n]’s brows furrow and more tears cloud her eyes.
then, out of nowhere, she slams her hands down onto the counter repeatedly. the loathing hatred she feels for herself grows and grows by every passing second.
more tears blur her vision, the shaky breaths still leaving her lips.
though, before she can panic even more, there’s a light knock on the other side of the door.
“kid? everything okay in there?” logan’s voice calls out through the door and it — fortunately — snaps [y/n] out of her panicked daze. at least, for the moment.
“w—what?” she stutters out in an answer to his question. she holds her breath as she waits for him to say what he wants to.
“are you okay?”
the tone of concern shocks [y/n] as she chokes on her answer, “y—yeah, i’m… uh, i’m fine.”
there’s only silence for the first few minutes. but then, suddenly, the door knob is being turned and logan is slowly entering.
he shuts the door behind him as he turns to face her with crossed arms and a look as if to say, 'i know you’re not fine'.
“i know you’re lying. why can’t you sleep?”
she stays silent, eyes falling to the floor as she leans against the counter.
“well?” he asks, causing her to snap her head back up at him.
“it’s nothing… i—” she abruptly cuts herself off, inhaling deeply. she dips her head down in shame as she tries to calm herself down.
"i just... had another nightmare. that's all." she mumbles as she lifts her head back up to look at him.
he sighs with a nod. "do you wanna talk about it?" he asks, not being able to help but feel a little worried about her.
as she notices this look on his face, something in her brings her butterflies. [y/n] gulps nervously, before shaking her head.
despite, trusting him now — a bit more than she had before — she just can't let him in, yet. and she knows that he can understand that more than anyone else.
he nods.
silence fills the room as they stare at each other with different emotions consuming them.
while logan still feels a bit worried about her well-being, [y/n] watches him with a wary expression, trying to figure him out.
"well, um... thank you — for checking in on me. but, i promise, i'm okay," she murmurs, anxiously running a hand through her tangled-up hair. "i'm always okay."
despite, [y/n] sounding really genuine, logan doesn't believe her for a second. but, he doesn't say anything about it.
after another moment of complete silence, [y/n] clears her throat. "well... i should go back to bed." she says, nodding to the door, causing logan to snap out of his own concerned thoughts.
he nods and drops his arms from his chest, before moving to twist the doorknob and pulls the door open.
he lets her pass him as she hurries back to her and laura's bed.
though, as she lies back down and stares at the hotel room’s ceiling, a soft smile finds it's way to her lips as she remembers how concerned about her he's been acting lately.
she may not still completely trust him.
but, for him to grow concerned for her? that's quite a big development on his part.
[y/n] falls asleep with that same smile on her lips.
—————
SHE SLEEPS A LOT BETTER. so much so that she sleeps through the entirety of the next day.
the only time where she actually wakes up, is when — while logan went off to find a better car for them, since the limo's already been seriously damaged — a few men, who were sent from the psychopath that's been hunting both [y/n] and laura in the first place, showed up at the hotel room.
unfortunately, right when she does wake up, charles begins to have a seizure. it not only stops the bad men from harming laura, but it also does the same for everyone else.
the entire process is especially more harmful to [y/n], considering that she's only human, after all.
lucky for her, logan arrives soon after, taking care of some of the men, before laura assists with giving him charles' shot that's supposed to help with the seizures.
once charles has officially calmed down, [y/n] takes in a deep breath.
but, as she stands up, she loses her balance, when her legs give out, taking much more of a hit than anyone could've anticipated.
she lets out a groan as she clutches her head in pain, suddenly being hit with a wave of throbbing pain.
as she continues to struggle to deal with the pain, both laura and logan watch her in worry.
while logan turns to face charles, who wears a very regretful expression, and gives him a pointed glance, laura races over to [y/n] and silently worries about her.
as she tries to breathe through the pain, she notices the little girl's presence near her and decides to place her now sweaty hands over hers, in order to calm her down.
"it's... okay — i'm okay. i promise." her voice comes out in a croaky whisper as she begins to slowly stand up.
surprise flashes in her eyes as she notices the crazy amount of concern and worry in logan's eyes.
he steps forward to help her, but she holds up a hand, before he can get any closer.
"don't worry about me. i'm fine." she murmurs, trying to ignore the pain that is still consuming her body.
logan raises a single brow at her, challenging her to tell the truth as he notices her wince in further-more pain. "you sure about that? because you don't look like you're okay." he steps forward once more.
before she can answer him, her head throbs, once more.
it causes her to stop completely and dip her head down in pain as she presses her hand to her forehead.
"[y/n]?" he calls out as he steps closer her, the rest of the people in the room becoming much more concerned for her as she sighs shakily.
"i..." she trails off breathlessly as she begins to feel so much more light-headed and becomes a bit nauseous. "i don't understand why it's like this... "
"like what?"
"why it hurts so much..." she whispers as her legs finally give out and everything goes dark.
—————
THE MOMENT SHE WAKES, SHE notices that she's no longer inside the hotel room they were in before she'd passed out.
she begins to panic after realizing that she doesn't recognize the room she's been currently sleeping in for god knows how long.
her heart beat picks up in a fast pace as she looks around in confusion and stress.
though, before she can actually find herself in a worse panicking state, the door of the room slowly opens.
as soon as she realizes that it's logan, [y/n] sighs in relief. "thank god." she whispers to herself as he slowly shuts the door behind him, before walking over to the bed she's currently lying on.
"you alright? you know, you look really stressed right now." he asks as he sits down on the edge of the bed, eyebrows already furrowing together in concern.
she sputters once more, glancing around the room again, before turning back to face him.
"w—where are we? i don't recognize this room... and it's honestly stressing me out. especially, since the last time i was awake, it was inside the hotel room and now i'm here — where i don't recognize anything." she rambles, furrowing her brows as she tries to catch her breath from talking so much.
he chuckles in amusement, before shaking his head at her in response.
"doll, you don't need to worry or stress about that. the explanation is pretty simple," he states as she waits for him to go on.
"after you passed out from what happened in the hotel room with charles and all those men, we had to leave to ensure that that group didn't get to you and laura. so, we left and ended up helping this family and they've offered to let us stay here for the night. we'll be leaving early in the morning, alright?"
after hearing his explanation, she sighs in relief. “oh… okay. that makes sense.”
he nods, staying silent as he stares at her with an expression filled with worry and concern — something that’s become a very familiar look lately. especially, when it comes to her.
in the past — maybe today, even — he would've told anyone that he would never fall in love again, or even, in this situation, at least, grow genuine, protective instincts and to care for another person.
and when you have the type of haunting past — like he does — it's understandable.
[y/n], sensing his eyes on her, looks up, brows furrowing.
she tilts her head to the side in confusion, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
"w—what?" she stutters out nervously, quickly beginning to wonder what's going on inside of his troubled head.
logan tries his best to shake the feelings and new — for him, anyways — thoughts away. "nothing." he mumbles, clearing his throat and cutting off the new moment between them.
it's quiet for a moment, before the door opens, only to reveal both laura and charles.
once laura realizes that the older woman is now awake, relief floods to her face, before she's racing over to the bed and crushing [y/n] into a bone-tight hug.
"oof!" she lets out, trying to ignore just how tight the little girl is hugging her as she hugs her back.
after a second, she laughs in a form of appreciation — she's never felt so loved before, considering how she was treated as a growing child.
"i promise i'm okay. and i will be for a very long time — you never have to worry about losing me. okay?" she murmurs quietly, before the younger girl finally pulls away from her with a protective look shining in her eyes.
"she was quite worried for you." charles says from his place, sat in his wheelchair.
[y/n] nods, feeling guilty for making her worry as a frown takes over the place on her lips.
"and... i'm terribly sorry for putting you in that situation and putting your life in danger." he continues, his facial expression obviously filled with only regret and guilt.
the young woman's face quickly becomes confused.
"oh, charles... that wasn't your fault. and i don't blame you for it." she states in a soft voice, sending him an appreciative smile.
the wolverine scoffs, as if he doesn't quite share the same opinion as her.
his tone of voice is bitter as he speaks again, making how he feels known, "maybe you should."
[y/n] tilts her head to the side in further confusion. "what? how could this be his fault? it can't be his fault, if he can't control when it happens." she says, quickly coming to the eldest man's defense.
"i mean... you can't possibly believe that he wants to hurt anyone. and having these moments of out-of-control seizures can hurt them."
logan only rolls his eyes. "whatever." he mutters, not wanting to argue with her, before he glances towards the door.
"we should go check and see if they've finished making dinner yet." he mumbles as laura hurries to help [y/n] out of the bed.
she chuckles, before shaking her head.
"it's okay, sweetheart. i'm okay to walk." she murmurs softly as the little girl simply nods silently in understanding.
as [y/n] makes her way over to the door, limping and wincing every few seconds, logan, charles, and laura watch in clear concern, but she only ignores it.
she doesn't want to be any more of a victim — not anymore.
her only fate is to be able to protect laura and get her across the border — that's all she's going to be.
logan backs up, pulling charles with him as he keeps a good grip on the handles of the chair, while [y/n] slowly and eventually pulls the door open.
with an excited smile, she turns to them with a hand motioning towards the open doorway and backs away, in order for them to get through. "here we go!"
laura claps excitedly as logan pushes the old telepath through.
as soon as they're out and making their way into the kitchen, [y/n] and laura walk through the doorway and follow after them.
laura lets go of [y/n]'s hand as soon as she gets to her chair, practically throwing herself into it in pure excitement.
the older woman inhales nervously, becoming a little anxious about meeting these seemingly nice folks for the first time.
she lifts her hand up and into the air, giving them a small wave.
"hi. um, i'm [y/n]," she nervously says, nodding towards laura.
"i'm laura's mother." she explains further as the brunette woman laughs and waves her shyness off.
"it's so nice to officially meet you — laura's spoken so highly of you. i'm glad you're doing a lot better than before." she kindly says, nodding to an empty seat, the one next to where logan is now sitting.
[y/n] takes in a deep breath as logan still continues to watch her every move in clear worry, before she takes the seat and sends the much older woman a warm smile.
"thank you. yes, i'm doing and feeling a lot better now."
after the family says their grace, logan and [y/n] glance at one another, not even realizing how much they seem to be looking at each other.
as laura begins to eat — quite messily, too, might i add — logan steps in with a frown and a glare.
he reaches over with his hand and taps her shoulder to get her attention.
then, he gives her her fork, quickly motioning for her to use it properly.
seeing this herself, [y/n] giggles, only finding amusement in watching her.
"i'm... so sorry about laura. as you can clearly see, we're still trying to teach her how to have proper manners."
hearing the 'we' part of her statement, logan gives a gruff agreement, quickly realizing that the woman is going for the wife-and-husband-with-their-daughter cover.
though, it's quite obvious that both adults are their own versions of flushed over the idea of them actually being together — or being a couple.
the older couple simply waves it off, not being ones to judge.
after all, all families are different, right?
though, as laura starts pouring big, big loads of food onto her plate, logan has to interfere, obviously. again.
"there's plenty more, if she'd like some more." katherine offers, nodding over to the younger girl, who's now glaring and pouting at logan.
he shakes his head, mumbling that she's had more than enough.
[y/n] can't help but let a small laugh escape her.
but, after realizing how childish she must seem in the moment, her eyes widen in shock over her own impulsive action, and then clasps her hands over her mouth to keep anything else from escaping.
the famous wolverine stops frowning at laura, only to turn to look over at [y/n] with a raised brow as a response to her childishness.
she laughs again, at the look placed on his face.
after all the time they've spent together — and obviously, the feelings that have shifted between them — she can't take him seriously. not anymore, at least.
although he looks like he's just about ready to lecture her, she knows deep down that he couldn't get mad at her over something so minor.
and another part of her just hopes that maybe he feels the same about her that she feels for him and that he couldn't bear to be angry at her for that long.
logan glares at her once more, though it's more playful than anything else.
as she notices everyone watching their seemingly normal exchange, [y/n] clears her throat as her face instantly turns beat-red at the attention they're receiving.
"uh, sorry." she genuinely apologizes to katherine and her husband.
katherine laughs herself as laura and charles join in. "there's no need to apologize. i think you and james make quite the couple."
[y/n]'s face heats up, once more, at the compliment. "o—oh, thank you." she stutters nervously, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear as logan's gaze catches hers.
this time, though, their eye contact is very much different than any of the others they've shared — this one gives off both admiration and genuine care over the other.
charles, however, decides to cut the moment short, after noticing the pair of adults' undeniable connection, when he accidentally hears both of their own thoughts.
[y/n] is not only flushed on the outside, but also on the inside — she wonders anxiously if anything could ever happen between them, or if it's just her that feels this way.
and logan? well, he's trying to act like she doesn't have a single effect on him at all — he's trying to stay professional about this all and fight against how he truly feels.
a small smirk tugs at the psychic's lips, before he breaks the silence, "yes, my son and [y/n] truly do make quite a great couple — they're actually quite perfect for each other."
[y/n]'s face turns even redder — if that's even possible — while logan glares at the side of charles' face.
but, after a moment, both logan and [y/n] realize that the rest of the family — and charles and laura — are watching them carefully and closely.
"yeah, we are perfect for each other. i'm just happy to be with him and to have laura and charles — this family means everything to me." the young woman states, no lies evident in her tone of voice — she speaks the truth in her words, even if it's all just for a cover that won't be permament.
something in logan changes when he hears her truthful words, a small smile — a grateful one — appearing on his lips as he stares at only her with a gentle look in his eyes.
without another thought, he nods and says his own version of the truth, despite the fact that he hasn't wanted to get attached to either her or laura, in the first place, "you know i feel the same, sweetheart."
his tone of voice comes out gruff, but [y/n] senses the truth in it and smile at him as she places one of her hands over his.
they both fall into the moment, completely forgetting about everyone else, almost as if the entire world falls away, when it's just them.
katherine smiles at them with admiration.
"you know how i know you two are truly perfect for each other?" she asks, breaking the moment between them as they glance over at her in confusion.
"you look at each other like you're the other's world — and that's true love." she continues as [y/n] laughs nervously, before murmuring a 'thanks'.
logan watches her once more, before katherine's husband asks where they're heading after this.
he snaps himself out of his daze as both he and charles reply with completely different locations.
"uh," logan starts, but [y/n] laughs and cuts the two men off, "sorry. apparently, there's been some miscommunication!" she laughs once more, trying to make a joke out of it.
katherine laughs with her.
"are you guys going on some kind of extended-vacation?"
after a moment, [y/n] nods, choosing to just go with it. "we're going to be going to both oregon and south dakota."
charles nods along with her.
"yes, it's a very long overdue vacation," he pauses as both logan and [y/n] nod in agreement. "we're city folk — always wanted to see the country. and meet the people in it."
logan watches the exchange, noticing how comfortable both charles and [y/n] are about speaking about a vacation.
needless to say, they all deserve a vacation — away from all the complicated situations they've been in lately.
"that's lovely." katherine nods in agreement as everyone continues to eat.
"i've been trying to get will here to take a vacation for years—"
will interrupts, quickly bringing up that they'd not be able to take care of their property, if they went on vacation.
katherine replies to this by telling him they need to sell the property.
[y/n] laughs at their interaction, never before seeing an actual healthy couple before — her parents, after all, didn't have a healthy relationship at all.
they continue to argue, before their son interrupts them, "i could drop out of school!"
"let's not go that far." katherine says to him seriously as he just laughs it off.
"i mean, i'll do it."
"no."
"why not?"
something in logan's face changes as he watches the normal family exchange between them all.
his gaze goes over to laura, something changing immediately.
[y/n] notices this and smiles, hoping that he truly does care about her and laura, like she hopes he does.
"now, why would you want to do that, nate?" charles asks genuinely and [y/n] can't help it as she lets out a giggle.
"you might want to be careful with answering that question, nate. charles here, was a professor that ran a very important school." she announces in an amused tone of voice.
"a lot of years, right, charles?" logan asks, finding some entertainment in this topic of conversation, as well.
charles waves him off, trying not to make a big deal out of it.
though, just as he begins to agree politely, [y/n] begins to experience some more sharp pains in her head.
this time, though, it's much more extreme than before.
then, she's suddenly pushing back from the chair as she stands up, catching everyone's now concerned looks.
"i... i'm sorry. i think... i need to lie down — it seems that i'm still having some headaches." she murmurs in an embarrassed tone as she starts to sway slightly and her eyesight gets blurry and splotchy.
logan immediately stands up, becoming much more worried than before.
he places a hand over her back and the other on her shoulder as she begins to groan in pain — she's never felt headaches this bad before.
"i'm going to help her get back upstairs." he announces, not caring if he seems rude, his attention completely on the young woman in pain.
"yes, you should," katherine agrees, after standing up and placing her hand up to [y/n]'s forehead.
she frowns at how warm she is. "she's burning up. she really should lie down — maybe, just for a little bit, or until y'all leave tomorrow morning."
logan doesn't say anything in response. though, he understands what she's saying and is mentally agreeing himself.
[y/n] gulps guiltily, both feeling bad for all of the issues her health is causing and because she really doesn't understand why she's been in so much pain recently.
for only a moment, she leans her head against logan's chest, the sudden nausea becoming way too much for her in the moment.
logan, not quite expecting such an open and vulnerable action from her, breathes in a deep breath as he allows the physical contact. only because it's her.
"alright," he suddenly says, wrapping one of his arms around her waist and turning to face katherine.
"i'll be back to help laura and charles to bed." he states, nodding to them, who've both stopped their eating to watch [y/n] in further concern — they all know that she's only been acting like she's fine, but they didn't expect everything to get worse for her.
[y/n] barely acknowledges anything after that — the pain she feels is just too distracting for her to hear the worry in logan's voice, or to see the concern everyone in the room holds for her.
though, as logan brings her into his arms — bridal style — and walks them up the stairs, she lets out a barely containable cry.
this causes his eyebrows to furrow together in both concern and confusion. "what's wrong, doll?"
she cries again, hating how worried he is for her.
"i... i hate this... " she says through her heavy breaths that match with her small cries.
"hate what?"
"this — being so pathetic and weak of a human being that i can't even make it through the night." she mumbles, but he hears her completely, considering of how close they are.
"sweetheart—" he begins to say, knowing where this conversation is going, just as they reach the doorway of the room that she'd slept in before.
but, she interrupts him, "—no."
as her voice comes out in emotional stutters, she forces herself out of his arms as carefully as she can.
as soon as she's standing, she begins to feel light-headed again.
"[y/n]—" he says again as he notices that same sick-to-her-stomach expression on her face.
"no... i can't do this." she whispers shakily as a bunch of strands of her hair falls over her face.
though, honestly? this small little detail is something that she could care less about.
logan frowns, not sure of what she means. "what do you mean by that? can't do what?"
she lets out a slightly unhinged laugh as she shakes her head.
"i can't help laura... if i can't even survive," she mutters, taking in a deep breath as she leans against the doorway.
logan tilts his head to the side in concern for her.
he waits for her to continue, knowing that she's not going to stop until she gets what she needs to say out.
"i mean, this behavior isn't fucking normal for me! i have never had these types of issues before, when it comes to my health. this is all happening so suddenly, and i can't understand why."
"you know it could easily just be stress. you've been so worried about the kid and charles lately. i'm sure everything is fine." logan says, stepping forward to help her into the room.
she doesn't budge for a moment, not ready to accept that this is her life now.
she ducks her head down as he places a hand over her shoulder, her bottom lip quickly becoming harshly pulled in between her teeth. her eyebrows raise as tears blur her eyesight very quickly.
"c'mon. let's get you to bed, alright?" he murmurs, trying to stay patient with her, knowing that she's been going through an awful lot in the past few weeks — maybe, even longer.
i mean, logan can't know for sure how many months she's been with laura. or if she's been going through all this trauma, long before she ever met the little girl.
and it's not like he's forgotten about the guilt and anxiety she's been experiencing lately because of the people she's had to kill, in order to protect laura, who she's grown to love and see as her own daughter.
"logan... " she trails off as she finally, finally looks him in the eye with fear in her eyes for the first time ever.
"what if i can't protect her? w—what happens... if something happens to me and i can't keep her safe?" she whispers tremblingly, some of the tears escaping her eyes and sliding down to her cheeks.
normally, she'd be embarrassed to let anyone see her like this — like she's pathetic or weak.
but, this is logan.
he's been much more vulnerable than anyone she's ever known.
also, the fact that he could never judge her for being terrified when he's felt so much worse than her.
this time, though, he stops in place. he no longer tries to get her to the bed.
especially, when he sees the scared look placed on her face, and just how vulnerable she's allowing herself to be with him — even though, she'd never do that with anyone else.
"what are you saying?"
"let's just face it, logan. i'm... obviously getting sick — or something. i don't know what it is, but something is happening to me. and i don't think i'll survive it. which means... " she trails off as she takes in a deep inhale of shaky breaths, trying to accept what she's saying — she needs to make peace with it.
"which means what?" he questions her in a harsh tone of voice, obviously not liking where this conversation is heading.
"it means that i don't have long. and we've barely even gotten to where we need to be, in order for laura to cross the border. i can't help her if i'm dead, logan — you know that." she finally spits out what she's been secretly thinking.
a dark look fills his eyes as he shakes his head, jaw clenching impossibly hard.
"no. i don't know that — we don't know that. you don't know that you're going to die." his statement is spit out in a negative tone of voice, showing that he refuses to believe that it's true.
maybe, it's because he has found himself growing to care for her — way more than he ever planned to.
after all, she and laura aren't strangers to him — not anymore.
"logan, i know... t—that you don't want to hear this." she starts, still leaning against the doorway, clenching her eyes shut and taking in a deep breath at the thought of what she has to say next.
"i know how much pain and loss you've experienced. and i wish and hope that you don't have to experience it... ever again. but, we have to face the facts."
now, she opens her eyes and looks up at him again with more tears spilling.
"and the fact is... i might die. and if i do — whether that's from what my body is experiencing right now, or getting myself killed — i need you to promise me that you'll do right by laura."
he grunts, growing more frustrated and annoyed by the second.
it's obvious — and understandable — that he does not want to have this conversation right now.
or ever, actually.
"she's your daughter — whether you can accept it or not. you are her parent. maybe... even more than i am. after all, i'm just a woman who cares for her and sees her as my child — even when she isn't. but, you, logan... you are her father — you both share the same dna and pain."
he stays silent after hearing this, however.
even if he has so many things to say to her, he doesn't say it, because he knows that she has more she wants to say.
"you have a chance with her. she's not too far gone — she can be better. and you can teach her how to be. but, you have to protect her and get to that border — no matter what happens. she needs a normal and healthy life, where she isn't treated like a weapon." she says, gulping down her pride as she readies herself to say her next choice of words.
"and... of course i want nothing more than to be right there with you guys, when she gets to have the better life she deserves," she states, pausing as that life flashes in the back of her mind.
but, as it disappears, just as fast as it came, she sighs and blinks away the tears. "but, that might not happen. no matter how much i want that future, i have to accept that it might not happen. and... i need you to give her that, okay? she needs a different life than this. she is only a child — one that doesn't deserve to be hunted down like an animal and killed because they think they can't control her. she deserves better than that."
[y/n] forces a smile to her lips.
"she needs you, logan. and i need you to promise me that you'll do what i ask of you — for her sake." she finishes as more tears fall.
he's silent for a moment. but, the anger and denial is quite clear and evident on his face.
noticing this, she steps forward, despite the nausea and pounding of her head that she still feels. "loga—"
"no!" he yells suddenly as his eyes meet hers.
she jumps slightly, worry filling her as she notices the raw emotions swirling around in his eyes.
"no. we're not having this conversation, alright? you're not dying. so, stop with this damn martyr act." he tells her harshly, trying to ignore her hurt expression.
it's a few moments, filled with complete silence and tension slowly building up in the air.
though, logan doesn't care.
or maybe, that's just what he wants it to seem like as he gently grabs onto her waist and side again, silently helping her over to the bed.
they don't exchange any words as he helps her get under the covers, before walking over to the door.
though, before he can shut the door behind him and leave her to her overwhelming emotions and thoughts, she calls out to him, "logan."
he turns to face her, keeping his face stoic as he looks at her in question.
"i want her to sleep in here — just this once." she mumbles shakily, refusing to look him in the eyes.
he silently nods, before walking out and shutting the door, needing to get out of there before he suffocates in that room with her extremely hurt expression.
—————
SHE WAKES UP TO SCREAMS of terror filling the entire house.
[y/n] immediately throws her body up as she lets out a gasp, searching the dark room.
but, she knows that scream — laura.
with a protective instinct towards the little girl, the slightly weak woman stumbles out of the bed and continues to struggle to get out of the room.
once she has the door open, she races into the hall, following the sounds of laura's whimpers and screams, only to find her lying down on the floor of the room that charles had recently fallen asleep in.
"laura? what's going o—?" she starts to question, not quite seeing the full scene of the bedroom.
but, when she does, she sputters and gasps as she takes in the bloody scene before her and the robot-like man that looks way too familiar for her liking.
laura races over to [y/n], hiding behind her as the older woman continues to watch in shock and hurt as charles continues to lose more and more blood by every passing second.
"charles... " [y/n] whispers as tears fall down to her cheeks, not wanting to leave him to bleed out, but also needing to protect laura, who's shaking in fear from behind her.
"it's okay, darling. get laura somewhere safe."
"what? i—" [y/n] wants to say no, but the murderous glint in the enemy's eyes causes her to slowly back away, before turning to laura and kneeling down.
"sweetheart, go find logan. tell him what happened and you tell him to take you with him and get the hell away from here, okay?" she tells her hurriedly, ignoring the pang in her heart at the fact that this is going to be the last time they will ever see each other.
laura cries out, shaking her head and refusing to leave her as tears flood her face. "n—no. i can't leave!"
despite, not saying it, it's clear to [y/n] that what laura's trying to tell her is that she can't leave her behind.
she nods, her cries barely containable as she dips her head as she struggles with her emotions.
but, when she hears his footsteps nearing them and she glances back to see him getting closer and closer to them, she pulls herself together and pushes her away from her.
"laura, go! i'll be fine — i promise." she tells her, despite the fact that she's only lying to protect her.
as the older woman begs her to go with just her pleading eyes, laura hesitates.
but, as [y/n] stands up and turns to face the monster behind them, laura hesitates once more, before turning and running down the steps and races out the front door that's wide open.
as soon as she realizes that the girl is safe and away from the violence, [y/n] spits in his face.
"you're not touching her, you psychotic bastard!" she yells, pulling out her knife — the one she always keeps hidden in a strap she has wrapped around her waist.
he only yells angrily and slaps her to the ground.
she cries out, before she looks back up at him, noticing that he's not done with her yet.
as she winces and pushes herself back further down the hall, he pulls out a needle connected to a tube with some type of scary-looking liquid inside of it.
then, he pulls her closer to him by one of her ankles and injects it into her neck, causing her to groan through the pain, before her body quickly becomes to grow weak.
in the next few moments, all she wants to do is close her eyes. she's just so damn cold and tired.
but, as he assumes that she's about to pass out and begins walking down the stairs in search of laura, [y/n] carefully — and struggles to — get up and stumbles her way down, determined to protect laura.
just as logan walks back and closer to the house from walking around with will — and encountering some complicated trouble — he finds laura, running out of the house with a look of terror swirling around in her eyes.
she heaves in a bunch of breaths as he stops her from running past him. "hey, hey. what's going on, kid?"
she simply shakes her head hurriedly, tears beginning to cloud up in her eyes. "charles, dead. [y/n] sacrificed herself." she bluntly says with an edge of fear, still not able to say complete sentences.
"dammit!" he mutters, realizing what she means and putting it all together, before he looks back down at her with his eyebrows knitted together in worry.
"where? where exactly?" he exclaims in question, trying to not take it out on her as fear and immense concern begins to fill his entire body.
laura only points back to the house. "upstairs."
without any hesitation, logan turns to will.
"watch her for me, will you? make sure she stays safe." he tells him, who nods in agreement — though, he's a little confused too — before he races inside and makes it to the stairs.
though, what he finds before him leaves him completely and utterly speechless; blood is trailing the floor of where charles was last, and [y/n] struggles to stand as she tries to fight the man that strangely looks exactly like logan.
"stay... the hell... away from her!" the young woman yells at him, her speech slightly slurred as she struggles to stay awake, trying — and failing — to fight him off.
after all, this is a stronger and much more powerful version of the famous wovlerine.
"[y/n]!" logan yells as he sees the obvious pain she's in, along with all of the injuries she now has — thanks to that lovely injection she's just started to experience.
she becomes distracted for a moment, her terrified and worried eyes catching his.
after she heard his voice call out for her, all she could think about is that this is the last time they'll see each other.
because she knows that she can't fight this very scary version of him, and logan just has to take laura and get the hell out of here, before either of them gets captured and killed — at least, that's what she knows.
but, the evil version of logan takes this moment of distraction to get the upper-hand on her; his claws grow out of in between his knuckles and forcefully thrusts them into her stomach.
blood spurts out of her mouth as it becomes even more extremely hard for her to stay awake.
not only is she currently fighting whatever the hell that syringe was that just got jammed into her neck, but now, she's being practically impaled by the evil-logan's claws.
more blood spills from her mouth and lips as she chokes on the air, trying to fight the pain she feels over all of this — she's only human, after all.
"[y/n]!" logan yells her name again. this time, though, both anger and worry is evident in his voice.
though, something in her makes her stop fighting the other logan — she knows that she’s going to die.
that's why her gaze finds logan's, who's just about ready to kick the other him's ass for hurting her — charles as well, too, obviously.
"get h—her... out of here. now... " she sputters, more blood spurting out of her mouth.
"please... she... s—she needs you!" she yells, trying to keep the evil logan-spawn distracted for as long as possible.
though, logan shakes his head, not being able to let her go.
"no. we're going to get out of this — i'm not letting you die."
but, evil-logan could care less about this romantic exchange between them as he kicks her body back to the ground and his claws slide out of her now wounded body.
then, without another word, he walks down the steps, giving the real logan a challenging look — trying to size him up, i suppose.
[y/n]'s vision goes blurry and soon enough, her eyes slowly close.
everything goes dark as she — this time — can't stay awake anymore. her body's just too damn tired.
—————
"I'M SORRY. THERE'S NOT MUCH i can do. whatever it was that was injected into her body... it's taking effect quite fast. i can't delay it, and i can't fix it." an unfamiliar voice says, waking the injured young woman from her long, long sleep.
"what do you mean you can't fix it? you're a doctor! this is what you do — you're supposed to save lives! why can't you save her?!" that familiar angry voice that she knows so well yells in utter frustration.
there's a pause, before the stranger speaks again, "i'm sorry. if this was a normal injury, sure, i could treat it. but, it's not," he states, as an annoyed grunt comes from logan, quickly causing him to continue. "frankly, i don't know how she's survived this long — she should've died the second she was injected with that mysterious liquid. but, what i can tell you, is that she's strong."
a sigh is heard, before he speaks again, his voice now filled with pity. "all you can do right now, is enjoy your time with her and make peace with the fact that she doesn't have much time left — before she's going to die."
hearing all of this isn't new to [y/n].
she suspected something else was going on — something that could very much result in killing her.
but, hearing the heartache and pain in logan's voice brings tears to her closed eyelids.
the doctor apologizes once more, before he leaves the room and shuts the door behind him.
after another moment of silence, logan talks to the younger girl in the room, "it's okay — she's going to be okay. she's strong. she'll get through this."
though, the fact that he's lying to laura, in order to keep her from breaking down, doesn't sit well with [y/n].
"don't lie to her. she doesn't need things to be sugar-coated." she croaks out as she slowly opens her eyes.
she flinches from the bright light that hangs from the ceiling, before moving to sit up.
as she looks over to them, she notices the worry displayed on both of their faces.
but, the tear-stained cheeks of laura's concerns her the most.
laura doesn't need to tell [y/n] what she's feeling because she feels it just as much.
she nods in silent agreement, before opening her arms. "i know, baby. i know. c'mere." she murmurs, tears blurring her eyesight.
the little girl lets out a breathless sob and races into the older woman's arms, hugging her so tight, as if she's afraid that if she lets go, [y/n]'s going to disappear.
[y/n] sighs in relief, happy to have the girl near her, once again — she really did think that she was going to die on the munson property.
though, thinking back on that whole entire situation, [y/n] pulls away and looks over at logan for the first time.
she turns back to laura, giving her a sad smile.
"hey, why don't you go out to the waiting room, yeah? i need to talk to logan." she murmurs, her gaze finding his again, not being able to look away from him.
laura wordlessly nods and walks out, sensing that the two adults need some time alone.
as soon as she's gone, [y/n] clears her throat as she begins to dread asking the question that's been on her mind since she woke, just seconds ago.
though, before she can quite ask what she desperately feels that she needs to, he clears his throat as he steps closer to her.
"how are you feeling?" his voice comes out gruff, but also, filled with worry and hesitation.
"logan, that doesn't matter right now." she gulps as he rolls his eyes and throws his hands up in the air in clear frustration.
"of course it does! why do you always do this?" he questions, jaw clenched as he watches her flinch.
"do what?" she asks in a meek voice, trying to ignore the pang in her heart over how much he cares about her.
he sighs, regretting how harsh he was — he's acting just like he had that night, before everything had gotten worse.
"why do you treat yourself like you're expendable?"
[y/n] slumps in defeat, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth — like she's been doing repeatedly — and knawing over it in anxious nerves.
logan crosses his arms over his chest, raising a brow at her as he waits for her to answer him.
though, it doesn't come.
she simply stays silent, not sure of how to answer him.
i mean... how do you even answer a question like that?
it's hard to explain why she acts the way she does — especially, when it's tied to how she acts with herself — when it's all she's ever known, her entire life.
[y/n] has always been hard on herself, as well as being reckless with her life.
though, when she met laura, that all changed — she knows that she has to stay alive, in order to protect her.
but, that doesn't mean that she doesn't hate herself or have really unhealthy coping mechanisms. because she does — thanks to her family, of course.
"[y/n]." logan calls out, snapping her out of her dark thoughts.
her eyes snap up to meet his, shock filling them — she'd forgotten where she was for a mere moment.
"i... i—i don't know, okay? i'm just used to being this way." she stutters, not sure she wants to have this conversation with him anymore.
finally making up her mind, she stands up from the table she'd been lying on, minutes before.
she sways a bit, catching logan's attention further-more, but she shakes it off as she starts to walk past him.
"we don't need to talk about this right now, logan. we need to get laura across that border." she states shakily, though she tries to hide it, as she almost makes it past him.
but, logan, having been too worried about her for so long, grunts annoyedly and gently grasps her arm, just as she's about to brush past him.
"we're not going anywhere, until we talk about this." he states seriously as she freezes in place at his words.
she sighs, wishing he just didn't care this much in the moment.
"why? logan, laura is the most important thing right now — not having a therapy session." she mutters, not daring to turn around and look at him, fearing that she will break down and spill everything to him, once she looks him in the eyes.
"you need to talk about this, sweetheart. if you don't, it's going to get you killed. and you can't afford that when you need to be there for laura."
she rolls her eyes, lowly scoffing.
hearing him talk about her mental health like this makes her mad.
how can he talk about this — like this — when he doesn't even believe the same for himself?
she whips around to face him, her face full of obvious irritation.
"really, logan? you really want to talk about this with me? when you can't even do the same for yourself?" she exclaims, finding it so damn aggravating that he's being such a hypocrite.
his eyes widen in shock, having not expected her to snap at him like this — she's usually so calm and collected.
if only he knew just how much she struggles with the anger issues she gets from her family.
"excuse me?" he asks incredulously, snapping himself out of his shocked state and quickly going back to his cold act.
"you heard me! you're trying to tell me to try to talk about my issues and try to see that i have a good life ahead of me, when you can't even do that yourself! you don't want to live, do you?" she exclaims, throwing her own hands up in the air.
she scoffs as a dark look takes over his face, jaw ticking as he tilts his head to the side.
"you really wanna do this right now, doll?" his voice almost comes out in a growl, while [y/n] refuses to let it scare her — she knows that he'd never hurt her, especially when he's just acting this tough, most likely to push her away.
"yes, because i don't need you to act like you care about me this much!" she spits out, not taking a moment to realize what she just said.
he barks out a laugh, tossing his head back in sarcastic disbelief.
"really? you think i don't care about you?"
her entire body goes weak at his question.
she didn't even realize she said it. but, there's no taking it back — not now.
with a relentless sigh, she bites down on her bottom lip and stays silent as she ducks her head down to hide the obvious tears that are just about to spill — she doesn't want him to see what kind of effect he has on her.
"well?" he asks again — much more harshly, might i add.
"yes." she whispers weakly, knowing that she only blurted out the truth.
because, sure, she'd hoped that he cared about her, but there's been some other side of her that kept telling her that he could care less about her and just couldn't wait to finally be rid of her and laura.
"you seriously fucking think i don't give a damn about you and you're well-being — along with the kid, too — at all?" he questions further, still not fully calmed down in the moment.
in fact, it seems that he's only getting more frustrated by every passing second.
without another word, she nods.
shame fills her at the thought of losing him, all because she couldn't keep her damn mouth shut.
that, and the fact that she's used to everyone leaving her.
though, she also feels hatred towards herself — she hates growing attached and dependent on others.
and losing logan? well, that scares her shitless.
especially, since people hurting and leaving her, is all that was ever done to her.
anytime she grows to care for someone and begins to trust them, they leave her all alone, only with the heartaching conclusion that she did something wrong to make them abandon her.
that, or she assumes there's something wrong with her that is so terrible that they couldn't stand her anymore.
something snaps inside of logan, not understanding how she could be so blind.
"if i didn't care about you, why would i be refusing to accept the fact that you're dying? or the fact that i care about you so much that i'm willing to give the kid a chance?" he asks as he steps closer to her, causing her breath to catch in her throat at how close they're getting to each other.
"logan—" she says hesitantly, starting to really regret this entire conversation, all together.
he shakes his head in frustration. "no. don't. we're going to have this conversation. whether you like it or not." he says in a dark voice, his facial expression becoming something of a mix between anger and bewilderness.
"i don't know where the fuck you got the idea that i don't care about you. because you're wrong. why would i change my mind about helping you and laura, if i didn't give a shit about you? why would i be protecting you this entire time, if i didn't care? or calm you down from a panic attack, or help you feel better about the blood that's now on your hands? or take care of you and make sure that you're safe?" he yells this time, completely frustrated at her for thinking for just one second that he doesn't care for her at all.
though, you'd think that a man like logan wouldn't admit to caring for her. especially, with everything he's been through, and all of the people he's lost.
i mean, the man has practically lost everything.
"i didn't want any of this. i just wanted to take care of charles and protect caliban and get through the time i have left, before everything would be going to shit, once again, like it always does." he says seriously, not taking notice of the tears flooding [y/n]'s eyes, or the trembling of her bottom lip.
he's far too overwhelmed with the current conversation.
though, it's barely even a conversation at this point — it's just him yelling and raising his voice at her.
"i didn't want any part of it. but, then you came into my life and i found myself wanting something more than the miserable fucking life i was living before. and along the ride, the more i got to know you and the kid, i've grown to see things differently — i saw you differently." he says, this time his voice becoming much more genuine and gentle.
[y/n] swears that her heart stops and the whole world disappears.
"w—what do you mean?"
"i mean that you've changed me. and i'm not going to fucking stand around, while you risk your life repeatedly, with no regards of the fact that we need you."
tears spill to her cheeks as her heartbeat quickens at his admission.
"we?" she asks in barely a whisper, wondering if she just misheard him.
"yes, we." he states with no hesitation, before suddenly walking all the way over to her.
he hesitates on his next actions, hoping to god that he hasn't read too much into the situation.
god, the thoughts running through his head is making him feel like a love-sick teenaged boy.
but, something changes when she looks up at him with both hopeful and shocked eyes. "logan—"
she stops herself, wondering if she's getting the right signs.
does he really want to kiss her, or is she just an idiot?
"doll, i can't fucking take it anymore. i can't be around you, without doing this before i regret it." he mutters as he brings his fingers up to her face, wiping away the tears on her face.
her eyebrows knit together in confusion as she looks up at him. "what do you mean? do what?"
"this." he simply says, placing his hands over her cheeks and then slams his lips onto hers.
a shocked sound comes from her, it now becoming a smothered breath as they both close their eyes and melt into it.
logan smiles into the kiss as [y/n] presses her body closer to his and wraps her arms around his neck.
then, as she opens her mouth just slightly to let out a content sigh, he takes the moment to bring the kiss to become more heated as their tongues meet together.
when they pull away, [y/n] places her hands over his chest as she takes a deep breath, heaving for air to get back into her lungs.
"wow. that was... " she trails off in a murmur, still very much speechless.
"yeah, i know." he mumbles, a small hint of a smile on his lips.
"did you really mean all of that? what you said?" she asks in a soft voice, after they stand in a few minutes of comfortable silence.
he nods. "yeah. i had to get through to you that i do care." he murmurs as they both pull away from each other.
after a few more minutes of silence, [y/n] asks the question she's been wanting to ask since she first woke up, "so, you gonna tell me where charles is yet?"
but, the answer she receives — along with the distraught expression that takes over logan's face — tells her all that she needs to know.
—————
SOMETHING IN HER KNEW THAT everything that'd happen the next day would end with only blood and innocent kids getting hurt.
but, she didn't question how she knew that.
she only knew that she'd die to protect laura and those kids. no matter what — even if things had shifted between her and logan and she wanted to try to stay alive for him.
maybe it was the fact that finding out about charles' death had more of an effect on her than anyone anticipated.
or the fact that the munson family had experienced so much pain and loss because of them.
really, it doesn't matter.
but, she wouldn't dare let transigen take laura or those kids and put them through more hell — she needed to put an end to that psychotic group.
the worst part was leaving logan while he was asleep.
she hadn't said goodbye — she only gave him a long lasting look with a sad smile, before leaving with the kids.
and laura had only assumed that [y/n] wanted to make sure they got across safely.
technically, that's not a lie. but, she hadn't exactly told anyone the full truth.
and she was right.
somehow transigen had found out where they were headed and ambushed them in the woods.
and of course, the young woman decided to stay behind to fight the men off — to protect the kids.
with a yell to them to 'get out of here, now', [y/n] struggled to fight the men — her pain in her body was only getting worse, thanks to the other stronger version of logan — but, succeeded in distracting them.
that was until one of them stabbed her in one of her legs and tied her to a tree while she was distracted.
and as they leave to hunt down the kids — one by one — something in [y/n] snaps.
she's never felt so much gut-wrenching pain over the thought of losing a child that was never truly hers in the first place.
but, the thought of those kids — those innocent children, who only want freedom and normalcy — being brutally murdered for being born and having the powers that they do, changes something in her.
her blood runs cold as a shiver runs through her body at the thought of finding their bodies.
scorching, hot tears spill from her eyes and she just can't help it as she lets out the loudest, most pain-filled scream.
the kids hear this, and it makes them stop for a moment.
but, this distracts them for too long as some of the men have found them and begin to capture some of them.
though, another yell — one that belongs to a very familiar, protective man — distracts some of the men and laura helps the rest of the kids break free.
[y/n], now exhausted from that one scream and the agonizing pain filling her entire body, she helplessly sobs in both emotional and physical pain. she feels so weak.
but, before she can fall further into that negative and dark mindset, a pair of heavy footsteps makes her freeze in her place.
though, as she looks up, she realizes that it's only logan.
as he kneels down in front of her, his face filled with worry for her, she lets out a cry of relief. "logan?"
he musters up a soft smile — one that's only recently been reserved for her — and tears the ropes free of her hands.
"hey, sweetheart. you didn't think you'd be doing this alone, did ya?" he asks, trying to lighten the mood as he rips off a piece of flannel off of his shirt and wraps it around her leg that's currently bleeding out.
tears find their way to her eyes again as her bottom lip trembles.
"they're going to kill them, logan." she cries out, not being able to think about anything else.
a look of both anger and worry for laura and the other kids finds its way to his face as he helps her up, before placing one of her arms over his shoulder.
"don't worry. we're going to help them."
"promise?" she asks in a whisper.
he nods as he begins to walk further into the woods, in the direction of the screaming kids.
"i promise. we're not leaving until they're safe. alright?" he tells her as she starts to walk on her own, ignoring the pain.
she nods, agreeing with him. "good. because i had the same idea." she mumbles as they get to the entrance of the field that the children are being dragged to.
ultimately, with some hesitation, the couple decides to split up.
though, logan hands her some weapons to help her, before placing a loving kiss to her temple and murmuring a 'be safe'.
then, they're both sneaking around trying to scope the area out, and trying to find an opening to get this shit done without too much blood and death.
worry and confusion fills [y/n] as logan hurries right into the middle of the field, obviously going for the confrontation approach as she finds laura.
the girl hides behind her by a tree as they both watch the scene playing out before them.
"oh, look who it is!" one of them sarcastically exclaims, before slamming the end of his gun into a boy's head, immediately knocking him out.
the doctor and logan talk; the doctor tries to play nice, while logan is just not having it.
while there's nothing much happening, [y/n] kneels down and faces laura.
"you think you can go to your friends without getting caught? i gotta help logan get the bad guys, okay?"
laura nods, silent worry evident on her face, but she doesn't say anything as she sneaks back towards the nearest vehicle, which is where the rest of the other kids are being held by.
[y/n] takes a deep breath as she begins to sneak closer, making sure if a fight happens, she'll be able to step in — even if she is only human.
but then, suddenly, logan shoots both donald and the doctor in pure anger.
donald yells in pain, holding his now destroyed hand and runs over to one of the other vehicles closest to him.
the fighting starts as laura attacks some of the men, near the rest of the children.
one of the other kids being held uses their powers to electrecute the men sitting inside the vehicle.
[y/n] takes the moment to step forward and shoot two of the men in the head, shocking the kids.
then, she turns to laura. "get you and your friends out of here. logan and i will handle the rest."
laura wordlessly nods as she helps the kids get up and get out of their handcuffs.
but, as logan follows the asshole that no longer has a hand anymore, the other version of the wolverine — the evil one — appears behind one of the doors of the vehicle and shoves him back with pure rage.
"logan!" [y/n] yells, stepping forward in distress as she completely forgets about the kids that are getting ready to run.
the two wolverines continue to fight each other — the evil version having more of an upper-hand.
laura takes out the rest of the men as [y/n] steps forward when the evil wolverine stabs logan in the back and throws him into the air, far away from him.
something dark swirls around in her gut — some of it is just her being protective of logan, and the other is something that she's never felt before in her entire life.
"get the hell away from him, you fucking piece of shit!" she screams as she steps in front of logan protectively and starts shooting her gun.
this, though — no matter how many times or where she shoots her gun at him — only makes him more angry.
becoming a little nervous, [y/n] backs up as she pulls out one of her daggers.
just as he gets close enough to her to hurt her, she thrusts the weapon into his side.
but, this has no effect on him as he shoves his claws into her gut — repeating history.
a shocked gasp leaves her as she tries to keep the whimpers of pain shoved deep inside of her.
logan growls as he watches the evil version of him find satisfaction in hurting her.
then, as he stands up, [y/n] slowly backs up — despite all of the pain she feels — as the claws pull themselves out of her stomach.
the evil wolverine prepares to strike her again, but logan isn't about to let that happen; he rushes forward and shoves her behind him as he uses all of his strength to throw the much more powerful monster away from them.
then, he grabs a broken door off of the ground and tries to take out his head from his neck with it.
but, it doesn't help that when the monstrous version of logan sees the doctor dead on the ground.
there's also donald deciding to motivate him by telling him that logan killed him — this obviously brings him to fight back against logan and shove him and the door to the ground.
he growls angrily as [y/n] runs over to help logan get up.
but, then, donald shoots a graveling hook into one of logan's legs.
[y/n] yells out in pure irritation as she turns to shoot him in the head.
he lets out a shocked breath as he falls to the ground.
[y/n]'s not sure if that killed him or not, but at least he'll be done for — at least, for a few minutes.
while both [y/n] and laura are busy trying to fight different people, logan angrily rips the hook out of his leg, yelling in beyond-imaginable pain.
more of the kids appear to drown donald in the nature of the grass, which eventually kills him.
as the evil wolverine goes for laura, logan and [y/n] share a look, before she's running to get the little girl to stay behind her, while logan stays to fight the other version of him.
"stay behind me, okay? this isn't your fight."
laura — for the first time in a while — sends her mother-figure a terrified look.
[y/n] sighs regretfully. "it's okay. he's not going to touch you." she says, before facing the evil logan before them.
as she notices that the kid that donald had with him, is trying to lift up a heavy truck near them, [y/n] grabs laura's hand and shoves her in logan's direction.
"you guys need to get out of here."
"no! not without you!" laura yells, tears filling her eyes as logan pulls her close and hesitantly keeps her behind him.
[y/n] gulps down her pride as she allows a few tears to escape. "i know. but, you have to. logan will protect you — i promise. but, you have to go. now!" she yells, before the monster in front of them comes to notice them all very quickly.
laura hesitates, but stays with logan.
"sweetheart—" logan begins to say, but [y/n] refuses to look him in the eyes as she steps forward and tries to fight off the evil version of him — she can't look him in the eyes as she realizes that there's only one way this is going to end.
and if it's going to be up to her, she'll do just about anything to make sure he and laura — and the other kids that remain — get out of there safely, and alive.
as she fights the monster once more, [y/n] yells to the real logan, not turning to look at him, "get yourselves out of here! i didn't survive all of this, just for you to die on my watch. go!"
the pain in her body becomes even much more hard to bear as she pushes the evil logan back, just as the other kid is able to make it so that the truck lands directly on top of him.
with a sigh of relief, logan and laura start walking towards [y/n], but, she's not willing to risk that monster surviving this and killing them and everyone else.
"no! you guys have to go!"
but, it's too late.
just as she turns back to face the vehicle, one side lifts itself up, before falling back down — he's still alive.
the thought of having to watch them die brings back the searing, hot tears as she runs over to them and pushes them further away.
"go, please!" she cries out, needing to do anything to keep them safe.
the evil wolverine eventually escapes from under the truck and when he's standing — quite angrily and vengeful, might i add — he runs straight for her.
though, instead of running in the other direction, [y/n] clutches her dagger and runs straight at him.
once she reaches him, she swallows down her fear and slams the tip of the dagger straight into the side of his head as she kicks him back, his back hitting the edge of one of the many vehicles.
this only makes him more angry, though; in a fit of more intensified rage, he slams his claws into her stomach — for the second time that day — before dragging her to a broken stump with sharp edges surrounding it.
as body meets sharpness and wood, laura screams out as the blood spurts out of [y/n]'s lips.
she chokes as she struggles to breath — even more so, this time — body wracking with breathless sobs.
her eyes meet logan's.
his face is utterly torn. tears — something he never has let happen in a very long, long time — have spilled to his cheeks.
"p—please... " she cries out in between the blood that's repeatedly falling from her lips and the struggle to breathe as the evil logan mercilessly shoves her back against the sharp edges of wood, before stabbing her with his claws once, twice...
"g—get her out... of h—here!" she finishes, just before laura has had enough and snaps, grabbing one of the guns off of the ground and shoots the monster straight in the head.
this destroys half of his face, before he limply falls to the ground, unmoving.
both logan and laura run over to [y/n] as she lets out a choked sigh of relief, grateful that she doesn't have to endure any more new injuries.
though, she's still growing more and more weak by every passing second.
the little girl sobs loudly as she drops the gun to the ground beside them.
without another thought, she lies her head on [y/n]'s chest.
she moves her very shaky hand up to hold laura's as she tries to stay awake — just for a bit longer.
her breaths become much more hollow as logan falls to his knees, right in front of her, on the other side of her.
his face is filled with so many different emotions; love, fear, guilt, worry.
"you know... m—meeting you, james," she pauses, gulping in pain as she tries to find the words she needs to say before it's too late, while logan's heart almost stops beating at the realization that she just called him by his real name.
"it... was the best thing that ever happened to me... " she trails off as an extremely pain-filled cough with more blood falling from her lips escapes her.
laura cries once more, not wanting to lose the woman who's only ever protected and loved her, despite all the bad things she was forced to do.
"don't go... " she lets out as her tears fall onto [y/n]'s weaker-by-the-minute-body.
[y/n] chokes on her own cries as she clutches the little girl's hand in a tighter grasp.
"i—i'm so sorry." she cries out as her heart pangs at what her possible death is doing to both laura and logan.
he clenches his jaw angrily as he bites down on his bottom lip in frustration.
"why didn't you just let me take care of this?" he asks in a tight tone of voice, trying to ignore the extra tears swirling around in his eyes.
she gives him a sad smile, her heart breaking completely. "because... it had to be me." she croaks out as another coughing fit begins to escape her.
"and because i... i couldn't lose you guys... because i—i love you," she whispers, starting to hate the fact that right when the three of them had just started to feel like a real family, something like this tears them apart — forever.
"b—both of you." she finishes, more blood trailing around her lips and sliding down to her chin.
hearing those words leave her lips allows logan to feel so much pain that the tears finally spill.
he ducks his head down, trying to hide his emotions.
[y/n] frowns as she notices this.
"it's... okay. i wouldn't have this any other way," she states as she cups his cheek with her other bloody hand. "dying for the man i love, and... the little girl that's become like my d—daughter? it... s—sounds kinda like a pe—perfect ending to a great story." she murmurs, trying to hide how much she wishes to just stay with them.
but, on another hand, she's also made peace with it — that she's going to die.
because — deep down — despite how much she didn't want to accept it, she knew that sacrificing herself for the people she loves dearly, is the only way she wanted to go out.
"logan... " she coughs, once more, as her breaths becomes much more shallow — death is almost about to knock on her door.
he looks at her, waiting for her to tell him what she needs to.
"p—please... be happy. don't... d—don't let my death be the end of the happiness and the good life you both deserve."
as those words sink into his head, he desperately wants to tell her that there is no happiness or life without her — she's become like home to him.
for the first time, in a very long time, he's grown to want the life he's tried to avoid having — he's been punishing himself for so long that meeting her was the one exception to actually wanting that life. but, with her.
but, before he can say anything — and tell her this — she turns to laura, who hasn’t pulled away from her as she tries to desperately wipe away her tears.
"laur, baby, everything's going to be alright, okay? i know that you're scared. and you have every r—right to... to be. but, logan's gonna protect you and take care of you, o—okay?" she murmurs in stutters, trying to hold on for as long as she can, starting to feel how slow her heart is beating now.
laura cries harder as [y/n] takes one deep breath. "do—don't... don't be the m—monster they made... made you i—into — be b—better." she whispers as her breaths slows now.
before the last beat of her heart hits her body, she sighs with a content, happy smile, despite dying so fast. "take care of e—each o—other... for m—me, o—okay?"
then, as that last beat hits her body and heart, the light slowly leaves her eyes and her face begins to relax as both of her hands drop to the ground, limp and unmoving.
"no!" laura yells in anger and fear as the emotions quickly escape her, now realizing that she's gone.
logan, not being able to handle his own grief, stands up and walks over to laura, without saying anything as he kneels down beside her.
laura jumps into his arms and lets everything out.
they both stand there for god knows how long, only drowning in their grief, with the other kids standing behind them, feeling pity and sympathy for them.
[y/n] may have only known them for a small amount of time, but still, she made an impression on them, for the better.
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