#oh yeah and I have mutants to go track down

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 3, day 17, got a couple more frames done on the face, but I had to stop because a) am sleeby tired, and b) the cat is so upset that I'm not settled down for bed, and therefor snuggles, that he's dropping gnarly cat farts at me. So, gonna go to bed and fix both issues XD

[not-neverland06]

forgotten promises

pt two of broken promises (I know I'm so creative with names)

bodyguard!logan howlett x fem!runaway reader

a/n: SMUT 18+ MDNI they, like, never use protection (don't be silly, sheathe your willy) but I’d like to make it 100% clear now that she has a magic uterus and there will be absolutely NO baby-making. Just rocking unprotected sex 😎👍 If you’re tagged in this, it does not mean that I am permanently adding you to my taglist. It just means I saw you in my comments/reblogs/inbox asking for a part two and this was the easiest way to let you know I made one. If you would like to be added to the taglist, feel free to ask.  Summary: Life on the road isn't exactly glamorous. Cramped spaces and too many cheap motels have you and Logan at each other's throats. You feel eyes tracking you everywhere you go but you're afraid to tell him, afraid it will be the end of the road for the both of you. One cheap bar and an explosion later and your whole life is flipped upside down.

“What are you doing?”

You glance over Logan’s shoulder at the register. The man behind it isn’t looking at either of you, just disinterestedly scrolling through his phone. 

“Isn’t this what you do?” You ask, motioning to the pack of beef jerky you’re stuffing down your jacket. 

Logan scoffs and shakes his head. “No, kid.” He takes the bag from you and rolls his eyes. 

“Well, then how do you pay for this stuff?”

“Normally, with the money I get from my jobs. But your dad wasn’t too forthcoming with my last paycheck.”

You feel that familiar burning churn of guilt roiling around in your gut. You’ve definitely added another complication to his life and it makes you feel like nothing more than a burden sometimes. “Oh, Logan, I’m sorry.”

Logan glances down at you. He gives you that familiar appeasing look, squeezing you closer, and drags you towards the register. He tosses the snacks and drinks onto the counter. The guy just barely glances up at you both. 

“Will that be all?” He asks in a tone that says he could care less. 

“Yeah,” you answer, eyes drifting towards the magazine rack. Your face is plastered on the cover of a cheap tabloid. 

LOCAL POLITICIANS DAUGHTER STILL MISSING

Exclusive interview with family on PG. 6

Your eyes go wide and you turn your face further into Logan’s chest. He gives you a confused look before his eyes are snagged by the same thing that caught your attention. 

“Why don’t you go wait in the truck?” You nod and slip out of his hold, being mindful to keep your face away from the security camera near the front. 

That keeps happening. You hadn’t thought you would have made news, but your father was making this a part of his campaign. Claiming you’d been taken by a mutant bodyguard and that he’s been praying for your safe return. “Experts” have been claiming that with no ransom demanded you’re being turned into a message for anyone who goes against mutants. 

Now, mutants despise you and everyone else thinks you’re a martyr. In a few years, you’re sure you’ll be turned into some true crime documentary where people you’ve never met before are crying over your disappearance. 

You slide into the truck and let out a deep sigh. You’d thought running away would be freeing. But even a hundred miles from him, you can still feel the cold grip of your father’s hand around your throat. 

“Twenty on pump seven,” Logan tosses the cash on the counter, eyes drifting to you in the truck. It was instinct at this point, always keeping an eye on you. Especially since one of your father’s more fanatic supporters had spotted you in a shitty diner a week ago. They’d called the cops and tried to bar you and Logan from leaving. 

It hadn’t gone over well for him. 

He’d been trying to keep you a little more hidden since then, but it left a sour taste in his mouth. He’d gotten you out of that house to show you what real life was like, to give you a taste of freedom. 

He felt like he was no better than your father, keeping you cooped up and covered constantly. 

When the kid in front of him doesn’t say anything, Logan clears his throat. He gives him a quizzical look but the boy’s eyes are stuck on the door. 

“I swear I know her,” he mutters. Logan’s eyes drift towards the TV behind the counter and he sees an old news story of you. They’re using the footage of the acid attack, claiming you’ve always been the mutant movement’s target. 

“Can I get twenty on pump seven,” Logan repeats, voice firm. The kid finally looks at him and whatever expression Logan is wearing is enough for him to finally start moving. 

The second the receipt is in his hand he’s rushing out the door. He doesn’t know how long it’s going to take that dumbass to piece two and two together but he can’t risk dawdling. 

He fills the tank up, eyes scanning the gas station the entire time. He’s had a cloying sense of paranoia ever since the incident in the diner. He knows that at some point this little run of yours is going to come to an end. 

He doesn’t know if it’ll end with cops finding the two of you. Or if you’re going to realize the real world isn’t all that fun and leave him behind. He knows that a girl like you, one who's used to the finer things, is never going to be satisfied by the life he can offer. 

But he’s hoping that you come to your senses later rather than sooner. He’s enjoying traveling with you a lot more than he wants to admit. 

He gets in the truck, starts it up, and glances over at you. You smile, the smile that makes him feel things he doesn’t like admitting to himself or you. 

“All good?” You ask. 

He nods, driving off without a word because he doesn’t want to tell you the truth. Doesn’t want to admit what you both know to be a fact. The time you have together has an expiration date and he’s worried it’s creeping closer. 

Logan’s inside some shitty roadside motel. Whatever he’s talking about with the owner is clearly getting heated. You can see the way the anger’s growing on his face. His body is tensed up and he looks like he’s five seconds away from leaping over the counter and taking the greasy man leering at him down. 

There’s a final word exchanged between them and then Logan is storming back towards the truck. He slams the door closed so hard you’re surprised the windows don’t shatter. Normally, you sleep in the trailer. It’s not always the warmest or coziest, but you make it work. 

It’s too cold out tonight to do that and Logan doesn’t have a spare tank for the heating. He’d thought he’d had enough for a cheap room for tonight, but clearly, he doesn’t. There’s a tense silence in the truck as you mentally debate saying anything to him. 

His fists are wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel you can hear it creaking. You shift, sitting up straighter in your seat and uncurling your legs. There’s a stiffness to your joints that has you groaning. It’s involuntary, ripped out of you simply because you’ve been sitting for too long. 

It catches Logan’s attention and he glances over at you. There’s a resigned sort of guilt on his face and it makes you feel sick to your stomach. He’s used to this type of lifestyle, and sometimes you think he’s embarrassed to share it with you. 

You’d never judge him for roadside motels or living off cheap gas station meals. You know you were privileged living up with the wealth you did. But there is something infinitely more satisfying about being poor and happy than there ever was being rich and miserable.

“Look, kid,” he lets out a heavy sigh and you mentally prepare yourself for what you’ve been expecting. You were a fun time, a nice ride, but you’re becoming a burden and he can’t deal with it anymore. 

You let your nails dig into the thin skin of your palms so you can attempt to ground yourself. “I need to make some money tonight, so I just need you to bear with me for a while.”

Like there is every time he doesn’t boot you to the curb, a relieved rush of air expels from your chest almost violently.  “Okay,” you say tentatively, the word dragging out while you try and understand his meaning. 

“I just,” he stops and it looks like he’s struggling to find the words to say to you. You wait patiently for him to finish, or try to at least. “There’s a bar nearby. I’ll find some work there,” his words are ominous. They give you nothing and convey so much. 

Clearly, he’s hiding something from you. You can tell that much from the way he’s avoiding eye contact with you. He pulls out of the motel’s parking lot and turns the radio on. You’ve learned that's his way of telling you he doesn’t want to talk without being a dick about it. 

You want to respect his space because you still feel like an imposter. But it’s hard. He’s being oddly cagey about this. 

The drive is short but it feels like you’ve been transported to an entirely different town than the one you were in before. He takes only backroads and middle-class homes turn into shady shops with barbed fences. Caged dogs bark at the truck as it drives by and you get a sinking feeling in your gut. 

Perhaps it’s a little classist of you to automatically assume a few low-end homes equate to a bad neighborhood. But instinctually you know something is off about this place. 

He parks in front of a run-down bar. Even from here, you can hear loud shouts and jeering coming from inside. You don’t know what’s being said but they’re certainly passionate. Logan turns towards you, the expression on his face so serious you feel like you’re about to be scolded. 

“I need you to stay here. I won’t be gone long, just an hour at most. But you need to stay in the truck.”

Your jaw gapes and you scoff at him. “Logan, an hour that’s rid-”

He cuts you off with a stern call of your name. Your mouth snaps shut and you narrow your eyes at him, teeth gritting together to keep your tongue at bay. “Stay here, I mean it. Got it?”

You nod and he repeats your name, sounding aggrieved. “Fine,” you huff. “I got it.” He lingers for a moment. You don’t know if he doesn’t trust you or is just reluctant to leave you alone. You’re reluctant to be left alone, especially in a shady dark parking lot like this. But clearly whatever is going on inside is worse than whatever could happen to you out here. 

“I’ll be back soon,” he makes this whole thing sound so grave. It makes your brows furrow and doubt churn in your gut. What could he be doing in there that’s so awful?

He gets out and you watch his form under the flickering street lamps until you can’t see him anymore. You sit quietly in the truck for at least three minutes before you already feel the boredom set in. 

You’d thought you’d be able to last longer. You used to go for hours dissociating at your father’s galas. This is different, though. You’re a little afraid to let your guard down here. 

You try to listen to music but you feel bad wasting his gas so you just turn the truck off and huddle under a blanket in the trailer. You try and let yourself fall asleep but you don’t last long. 

It’s too cold outside to really get a good rest and you can hear people moving around outside the trailer. After about an hour of rolling around and frozen limbs, you figure enough is enough. 

As much as you don’t want to provoke Logan or give him any reason to get rid of you, you can’t stay in here all night. Besides, Logan said he wouldn’t be long, you can always just lie and say you were worried about him. 

Satisfied with your excuse you leave the comfort of your blanket behind and slip into Logan’s jacket. You tuck the truck keys in your pocket and walk out into the snowy night. It’s less cold outside than it was in the trailer, you can see why he wanted a motel room for the night. 

A few people linger by the cars, smoking and muttering to themselves. You slip past them, ignoring the feeling of their eyes burning into your skin. You’re sure it's because you look like you don’t belong here. 

The noise in the bar gets louder the closer you get and it reminds you of the night Logan had snuck you out of the house. But you’d had him to lean on, right now, until you find him, you’re on your own. For all the noise coming from the building, the bar is surprisingly empty. 

Only a few old men are sitting around, drinking beers in silence. The bartender cleans glasses behind the counter, sparing you an odd look before getting back to work. There’s not very far for you to look before you figure out that Logan isn’t anywhere nearby. 

“Excuse me?” The bartender spares you a fleeting glance before barely grunting in greeting. 

The floor underneath you tremors and you glance down at it in surprise. You can hear something going on underneath. You figure that has to be where all the noises are coming from. “I’m looking for someone. Tall, mean as hell, he’s got this hair,” you swoop your hands up by the sides of your head, trying to mimic the odd fluff of Logan’s hair. 

“Downstairs.” You nod and move around the bar, trying to get to the door behind him. He reaches out, grabbing your bicep and stopping you before you can get far. “It's a forty-dollar entrance fee, sweetheart.”

Your brow furrows in confusion and you frown as you dig around in your jacket pockets. You’ve come too far to be deterred now. Ignoring the moral implications, you slip Logan’s wallet out of his jacket and give the man forty dollars. 

He nods towards the door and you give him a weak thank you as you slip past him. Opening the door is like breaking a seal. The noises bombard you almost immediately, so much clearer than they were before. 

You still can’t understand what they’re screaming but there’s a violent atmosphere slipping around you as you head down the stairs. The heady smell of cigars and cigarettes threatens to suffocate you. Your eyes water at the smoke in the air. 

You’d think you’d have gotten used to secondhand smoking after being around Logan, but he’s less inclined to hotbox the car if you’re beside him. The second your feet hit the floor you’re being jostled to the side violently by the people around you. 

It’s nearly impossible to elbow your way through the crowd, but you’re determined to figure out what’s in the middle of the cage that’s got them all excited. You can hear the people around you screaming out bets and numbers you don’t understand. 

For one nauseating moment, you think this might be a dog fighting ring, that Logan gambles on it to earn his money. It makes you want to turn around, to shield yourself from the truth. But this is something he tried to keep hidden from you and you need to know the truth about whoever you’re traveling with. 

You can hear the announcer, but you can’t get close enough to see anything yet. “Are you gonna let this man walk away with your money?” There’s a resounding NO! from the crowd that makes you jump. 

A booming voice shouts over the throng of voices, “I’ll take him!” 

“Our savior ladies and gentlemen!” You shove through two men, ignoring the way they complain about how their beer sloshes on their sleeves. 

“Hey-” You glance over your shoulder as one of them reaches for you.  You flick your wrist, sending him and his friend tumbling back into the crowd. You roll your eyes and turn back towards the cage. 

Your eyes widen and so do Logan’s as you finally see what exactly is going on. He’s cage fighting, this is what he’d been so secretive about. Honestly, it’s a relief compared to the brutality you were bracing yourself for. 

You can see his lips starting to form the shape of your name but the man from before is barrelling into his side as the bell goes off. You wince, jumping away from the cage as you hear the meaty impact of his fist against Logan’s face. 

The people near you scream, shouting for Logan’s blood. It’s easy to figure out that he’s been beating everyone he’s gone up against based on some bloody faces in the crowd. It’s smart, easy money. He can always heal, and can never really be beaten, not when he’s literally got fists of steel. 

You’re surprised that no one’s ever caught onto this scam of his. You also wonder why he had been so adamant about you not seeing this. Sure, it’s brutal watching blood spray against the mat. But you don’t care. Besides, he’s ridiculously attractive in just his jeans as he pummels into some guy. 

Maybe that’s not a normal line of thinking. 

You shake your head, shelving that for later as the fight dies down. The man is limp on the mat of the cage and Logan is leaning against the wall, smoking a cigar and pointedly not looking at you. 

You feel that familiar twisting feeling in your stomach and wonder if this was a horrible idea. You should have just stayed in the car like he asked. You’re sure it would have only been another hour of tirelessly rolling around before he came back. But you couldn’t help yourself. 

He tells you so little about himself. If you get a chance to learn more, you’re going to pounce on the opportunity. Maybe it was a violation of his trust. You sincerely doubt that he would ever willingly have revealed this sort of lifestyle to you, though. 

He seems to be under the same misguided intention that you need to be sheltered. It reminds you a little of your father. That might be a cruel comparison but it’s the same suffocating feeling of being kept in the dark to suit their needs. 

The guilt you’d been holding unfurls and blossoms into anger. You find yourself retreating away from the cage and rushing back up the stairs of the bar. You don’t want to watch him fight any longer. You don’t want to look at him. 

You just want him to treat you like an equal. Not like some little girl who’s going to run at the first sign of things getting hard. 

You burst through the door of the bar, ignoring the cold laughter of the bartender behind you. He clearly seemed to think you couldn’t handle a little blood. He wasn’t the only one. 

You’re only a couple of feet from the truck when you hear footsteps loudly stomping through the snow behind you. “What the hell were you doing?” You scoff, unbelieving that he would have the gall to shout at you. 

You whirl around on him and it catches him off guard. His right foot slides against the slush as he tries to stop himself from ramming into you. “I’m not a little girl, Logan! You don’t need to hide stuff like that from me.”

He crosses his arms and glares down at you. “I wasn’t hiding anything,” he insists. But the tone of his voice gives him away. He doesn’t like that he was caught. “I don’t need to tell you jackshit about what I do for money.”

You can’t believe how he sounds right now. Why is he getting so defensive about this? “I don’t care what you do for money, alright. I just don’t get why you felt like I couldn’t know about this.” You hate the way the hurt is audible in your voice. You wear your heart on your sleeve, even when you try and cover it. 

In the same way, he’s masking his feelings with anger, so are you. Just with less success. Something draws across his face, some emotion you can’t discern. His voice goes cold and quiet as he shoves an envelope full of cash into your hands. 

“Go back to the motel. Get a room.”

He storms past you and walks towards the trailer. You follow after him, slightly dumbfounded by how he’s behaving. He rips his motorcycle out from the back and rolls it into a parking spot. You watch him do all this with your tongue glued to the roof of your mouth. 

It’s only when he starts to head back towards the bar that you realize he’s not coming with you. “Logan!” You call out, trailing after him slightly. He barely turns back to face you. “Are you,” the words die on your tongue and you can’t find it in yourself to finish. 

Are you angry?

Are you leaving?

Are you going to ditch me at the next bus stop?

Instead of asking any of your ridiculously pining questions, you turn on your heel and storm towards the truck. You rip the door open with more force than necessary and drive off without looking back at him. But you know he watches, know he keeps an eye on you until he can’t see you anymore. 

Your rides with him are normally silent, but this one feels painfully so. 

You nearly get a room with two beds. But you feel like if you do it will be a horrendous mistake. Reluctantly, you give the man behind the counter enough for a room with one bed large enough for the both of you. 

You’re not exactly excited about sharing a bed with him, not after how he behaved tonight. You grumble to yourself as you drag your bag inside and toss it on the ground. You picture putting up a wall of pillows between the two of you, just to be petty. 

It’s as you’re showering that you realize you might not even have to. He might not come to join you tonight. He won’t know what room you’re in. And he’d made it pretty clear how pissed he was at you for sneaking into the bar. 

Maybe you’ve finally pushed him too far. You’ve been toying with the boundaries of his patience for a while. Little tests to determine whether he truly wants you around simply to have a warm body ready beside him. Or if he wants you because he genuinely cares for you. 

You suppose tonight, whether you want it or not, you’ll finally have the truth. 

The thought keeps you awake. You toss and you turn for hours, fighting with yourself. You should be happy, finally figuring out what’s been haunting you. But you’re not. You’re petrified. You’d rather keep living a lie than finally accept that he truly doesn’t want you. 

You throw the covers off, the scratchy material only further adding to your irritation. You stomp into the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind you. You turn on the sink splashing some cool water over your face to try and rid yourself of the warmth lingering under your skin. You don’t know if this feeling of being uncomfortable in your own body is from pent-up anger or anxiety. 

You don’t care. You just want to sleep this night away and pretend it never happened. But, of course, the universe has other plans. The motel door creaks open as you’re hovering over the sink, debating whether or not you’re nauseous enough to throw up. 

You tilt your head slightly towards the sound. Growing up in your house, filtering through rooms like an unheard ghost, allowed you to get good at recognizing footsteps. Logan has finally decided to grace you with his presence. 

You listen to him as he creeps silently across the room, landing on the squeaky bed. You press your ear against the door and can hear the way the sheets rustle and he cusses under his breath. There’s worry staining his voice and you figure you shouldn’t drag this on much longer. 

You open the bathroom door and flip the switch, turning the lamps on like a disappointed mother waiting up for her teenager. You cross your arms mutely and lean against the doorframe as he winces under the sudden light. 

He jumps, just slightly, and glares over at you. “Thought you weren’t here,” he accuses. He tries sounding angry, but you have a sudden rush of clarity in that moment. Where you would normally focus only on him being upset with you, you can see the truth of his concern.

Same as you, he doesn’t know where he stands in this whole situation. You doubt he had a clear plan when he rescued you from your tower like some ridiculous storybook knight. He most likely thought that you left, the same way you thought he would. 

You remain silent, though, still a little too flustered to speak coherently. Instead, you examine him. There are cuts and blood all over his shirt. Splatters of it on his face. Though, you know if you looked there would be no physical evidence of him ever being hurt. 

His brows furrow the longer you stare, a wall building between the two of you. “Kid?” He questions, equal parts worried and defensive. Does he really think you actually give a fuck about him fighting?

You shake your head and walk back into the bathroom. You rustle around in the cabinet underneath the sink until you find a washcloth. Wetting it, you bring it back out to him. You station yourself between his spread legs, holding the cloth between you like a peace offering. 

He looks doubtful as he glances between you and it. Finally, he lets out a rough sigh and simply nods his head. But when he reaches for it you snatch it back, much to his chagrin. You offer him a small smile and tilt his chin up towards you, gently wiping some of the dried blood off his cheeks. 

He doesn’t flinch or hiss away from the less-than-gentle fabric. He stares at you unblinkingly, like if he closes his eyes for a moment he’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream. “You don’t have to do this, kid.”

You roll your eyes and crane your neck to get a better look at him. “Would you shut up?” You whisper teasingly. 

His lips quirk slightly and you can see his shoulder slump in relief at the sound of your voice. “So, she can talk.” You can’t help the little laugh that comes out of you. He grins fully at that and his hands come up to rest on your hips. 

His thumbs rub soothing circles along the sides of your waist as his hands dip a little lower. “What are you doing?” Your hand drifts down to his neck to wipe some blood off there as well. 

He shakes his head and shrugs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You lift your gaze to his and your lips fall flat, “Logan-”

He cuts you off before you can finish. In one smooth motion, his hands drop to wrap around your thighs. He lifts you slightly and drops you onto his lap. He grins at the slight huff of surprise that rushes out of you. 

His arms go back to your waist, pulling you closer to him and grinding you a little against him. You bite your lip to stop any noises from escaping. As much as you wouldn’t mind what he’s thinking, you need to talk. 

“Logan,” you scold. 

He smirks and tilts his head patronizingly, “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“It’s not happening,” you tell him firmly, hand still working on cleaning him. 

He sighs and one of his arms drops away from you. He cups your hand in his, stilling your movements and forcing you to meet his gaze. Gently, he takes the cloth from you and tosses it somewhere you can’t see. “I’m fine,” he whispers, eyes searching yours. 

It’s hard meeting his gaze. The worry and anxiety from the night still weigh heavily on your shoulders. He repeats himself, fingers tilting your chin up to face him. “Alright?”

“I don’t care,” the words come rushing out of you before you can stop them. His brows raise in shock and he gives a slight chuckle of amusement. A lump grows in your throat and your eyes grow wide. “Wait, I don’t mean-”

You cut yourself off and rub your hands over your face, trying to get your head on right. Logan’s patient, rubbing your back and clearly trying not to laugh at you. You finally take in a deep breath and face him again. 

“I don’t care about the fighting,” you can see his shoulders tense slightly like he doesn’t believe you. “I don’t care, Logan. You do what you have to survive and I’m not gonna judge you for that.”

“What if I enjoy it?” He cuts you off, tone harsh as he glares down at you. There's experience in how quickly he doubts you, how quickly he tries to get you to change your mind about him.

You wonder how many times he’s been rejected just for being a mutant. You’ve only ever been rejected by one person because only he ever knew. Your father. And that hurt enough for one lifetime. 

You can’t imagine going for as long as he has and constantly being called a monster for something he can’t control. Your brows furrow and you lean into him until your lips are brushing. He remains stiff beneath you but you don’t let it deter you. 

“I don’t care,” you tell him, pressing your lips to his before slowly pulling back. You wait for him to respond, physically or verbally, but he’s still looking at you with that cold unfamiliar gaze. 

You wonder if maybe it was a mistake, to bring it up at all. But just as the thought comes he’s surging forward. His lips catch yours, his hands digging so desperately into your shirt you know it rips. 

Your arms go to his neck, holding onto him so you don’t slip off his lap. You haven't been this close for a few days. You think it might have made you both feel on edge. There’s a relief that comes from not just having sex with him, but also just being intimate and close to one another. 

It’s a reminder that you’re not alone, that there’s someone here beside you to be a partner and a pillar of stability. You’ve never had that before. Someone that you can rely on and trust fully. You don’t think he has either. 

He craves you the same way you do him. Each kiss, every shared breath, is treated like it will be your last. You don’t know when your father will finally catch up to the two of you. You don’t know when the police might finally recognize Logan. 

There’s no definitive future for either of you. It’s a real possibility that this could be your last night together. And neither of you wants to be upset with each other. Because you were never truly mad. You were always just worried. 

Your hands drop to his shirt, dipping to find the holes in it from his fight and ripping at the flimsy fabric until you can just yank it off. He smiles against your lips at the eager way you move atop him. But he can’t tease you, he’s already annoyed with the buttons on your shirt. 

He pulls back, glaring down at the fabric like it's insulting him. Without another word, he slices through it, leaving it in tatters on your shoulder. You grin, shrugging the rest of it off. “That was yours.”

He grips your hips tightly and leaves marks where his fingers are as a reminder that he was here. He flips you over, leaves you breathless as he hovers over you. “I really don’t give a fuck, sweetheart.”

You’re addicted to his voice. How breathy and desperate it is when he’s with you. It’s a level of vulnerability you rarely get to see from him. He can’t hide himself when he’s with you like this. He wants you just as badly as you do him. 

It gives you a confidence rush like no other, makes your ego grow ten times its size. If you can make a man like this fall to his knees from nothing more than a kiss, then you’re capable of a lot more than you give yourself credit for. 

But you don’t want that tonight. You reach for him before he can go much further, grabbing him by his hair and tugging until you know it stings. He nearly fucking moans at your rough touch, eyes fluttering open to meet yours. The green of them has been wholly consumed by his desire for you and it makes you ache for him. 

“Not tonight,” you tell him. There’s no room for argument in your tone. As much as he might want to taste you, devour you, all you want is to be as close to him as possible. You want to be covered and filled by him in every way you can be. 

His head falls against your thigh, a rough groan tumbling from his throat at your words. You drag him towards you, pulling him up your body until you’re face to face. You smile softly up at him, lifting your head so you can meet his lips again. 

You’ll never get enough of kissing him, of tasting him. Sometimes you have to stop yourself from reaching across the seats and kissing him while he drives. You’ve nearly made him wreck a few times and forced him to pull over so you could both have some fun in the back. 

Addiction isn’t the right word for what you feel for him. It brings along its own negative connotations. The taint of dependency and toxicity. With addiction, it’s a parasitic relationship, hurts you but makes you feel good. 

This is just goodness. This is a kind touch for the first time in your life and finally feeling safe in someone elses arms. This is opening yourself up to him fully and not once feeling like you need to mold yourself into something else to make him happy. It’s accepting him as he is, a broken dog who likes to fight to punish himself. You don’t want to change him or make him “better.” You just want him to be happy. 

You use your powers to help yourself, flipping him over and straddling his hips. You drag his jeans down his legs and flick your wrist, sending them flying somewhere across the room. He watches you with eyes filled with awe, hands drifting over your curves like something to be worshipped. 

You know he’s waiting for it, for you to sink yourself down on him and finally be filled. But you wait, hover over him even as the muscles of your thighs tremor. “You don’t hide things from me anymore,” you warn him. You’re not asking, for once, you’re demanding what you want. 

He doesn’t look angry like you’d been expecting. Instead, it only seems to turn him on more. “Ya know,” his hands drift to your hips, dragging you down and over his cock until it’s wet with your want. Your nails dig into his chest until there’s blood beading under them and you’re trying not to let your noises slip out. 

“I kinda like it when you’re all bossy like this.” 

“Logan,” you grit his name out. It takes everything in you not to look as affected by him as you feel. “No more hiding shit.”

He leans up on his elbows. His hand drifts to the nape of your neck and drags you down until your lips are nearly touching his. “Yeah, I got it, sweetheart.”

Like a taut rope being cut, you sink into him, your hips finally drop and he guides you down every inch of him until you feel like you’re so full you can’t breathe. He lets you linger for a moment, and get used to this feeling while he steals the very air from your lungs. 

He’s greedy with the way he touches you. His hands always moving like he’ll never fully be satisfied with how much of you he can feel. He’s always reaching for you like he needs to make sure you’re actually real and not just something he’s dreamt up. 

Even with how impatient he is, you’re always the one that moves first. You roll your hips over him, moaning at how he feels inside you. It’s like he’s perfectly molded you around him. He always manages to brush against the spots that make your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

The second your hips begin to roll, he’s wrapping his heavy arms around you, grinding you down into him. He keeps you trapped in place, using you like a toy as he bounces you on his lap. Your mind is fuzzy, every bad thought and feeling shoved out while he makes you go dumb on his dick.

You love how boneless you go. You don’t have to think now, don’t have to worry. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, shifting yourself further on top of him until you're practically burying yourself under his skin. 

Not thinking always comes with its own consequences, though. Your powers slip a little out of your grasp. The walls trembling and the drawers and cabinets opening and closing. The both of you have gotten used to the noise, know how to drown it out, and just focus on each other. 

One of these days, you’ll need to figure out a way to have sex with him without bringing the room down around you. That’s a problem for later though. His whispered praises and grunts of your name filter through your mind until there’s nothing left inside you but him. 

“Fuck,” he hisses in your ear, “you’re so fucking tight around me. You close?” He grunts, hand drifting down to rub tight circles on your clit. You dig your nails into his shoulders, nodding your head frantically against his neck. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Shit,” you can barely think of your own damn name. Let alone what you want from him. “Fuck off,” you hiss. He chuckles at the attitude and you almost expect him to stop, just to be a dick because you were a brat. 

But he’s just as close as you are and he’s too selfish to tease. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes down on you as your body shakes against his. He follows quickly after you, warmth shooting up inside you and almost leaking down your thighs. You feel stuffed, like your body’s been pushed to the limit and further. 

You both sit together in silence for a while. You ignore the way your skin sticks to his uncomfortably, instead reveling in the warmth he provides you. Anyone else, and you’d be rushing to get away from them. 

You’re always extra sensitive after sex, every little thing setting you off. But there’s a comfort to the way his hairy ass chest brushes against your breasts and his arms squeeze around you. It’s a nice grounding feeling. 

The tips of your fingers drift over his arms, following the path of his veins and brushing against his fingers lazily. He flips his palm over, encasing your hand in his own wordlessly. Little things like that ease your worries. Makes you feel like something more than just a quick fuck. 

He breaks the silence first, which is rare for him. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

You frown and peer up at him. “I told you, I don’t care about the fighting.”

He sighs and shakes his head, “Not that. I shouldn’t have gotten so fucking mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” You want to interrupt him, assure him that you both acted pretty childishly. 

But you understand it’s difficult for him to express himself verbally. He usually prefers silent acts of apologies and expression, you don’t want to mess him up before he can get out what he wants to say. 

“I don’t want to be like your father.” Your face screws up a little and you shift uncomfortably on his lap. He loosens his grip, giving you room to leave if you want to, but you stay put. “I’m trying not to coddle you, sweetheart, or hide you away from the world. But I don’t like you seeing that shit.”

“You’re not my dad, Logan. He wouldn’t give me a choice,” you try and joke but it just seems to make him more irritated. Sighing you straighten up, bracing yourself on his chest and staring down at him. 

Your head tilts to the side in contemplation and he almost looks uncomfortable under the attention. “I’m not so fragile or sheltered that I’m going to shatter at the first taste of the real world, Logan. I mean, for god’s sake, I’ve had acid thrown at me and bodyguards since I could walk. I know how dangerous it is. Whatever you want to hide from me, I’ve seen worse.”

You let your words sink in for a moment and he looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. You know that it’s odd for him, to comprehend a girl who was afraid to go into a bar swallowing down an illegal fighting ring like it’s nothing. But you’re not lying. Everyday little things are what you’re unused to. But you’ve lived alongside violence your whole life. 

“Look, fighting, sleeping in shitty motels, and your truck, that doesn't bother me. But I don’t like when you hide things and I don’t,” you take in a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the worst. This is what you’ve been trying to tell him for weeks. 

A few little words have your tongue tied and make you desperate to cover yourself up again. He can see the shift in your expression, and feel how tense you get. He sits up a little more, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of your hand. 

“I don’t want to just be someone to fuck you, Logan. I didn’t come with you so you’d have easy access pussy,” he looks thoroughly amused at your crude words, but there’s something else lingering in his expression. Something like hurt. 

“Is that what you think?” He asks, tone distant. You can’t find the words so you simply nod. He sighs and shakes his head. He eases you off his lap and you worry you’ve truly fucked this up somehow. 

He goes into the bathroom, returns with a wet washcloth. He still doesn’t speak and you’re on edge the entire time he cleans the both of you up. You can see he’s thinking, biting his tongue, and trying to figure out what it is that he wants to say to you. 

You’re impatient, five seconds away from just demanding a response from him. He tosses the cloth and drops into bed beside you. You draw the sheets up to your chest, glaring down at him while he rubs his hands over his face with a tired sigh. 

When he opens his eyes again he laughs at how close you are. “Jesus,” he wraps an arm around your waist, dragging you down into his chest even though you fight him. It must be easier for him to speak when you’re not staring at him. 

“I didn’t go back for you so I could fuck you, kid. I… care about you,” there’s a long pause before he says the word care. You think it’s funny, that he can’t bring himself to admit what he actually feels. But you’ll take it, you’ll give him the time he needs to come to terms with the truth. 

For now, you let yourself fall asleep, feeling just a little bit better about the road ahead. 

Things get easier between the two of you. And somehow harder at the same time. You don’t walk on eggshells around each other, no longer afraid of scaring the other off now. Which also means that you find it easier to bicker with him about little things. Like, not just tossing his trash everywhere in the truck. You’re practically living out of the trailer, the least he could do is help you keep it tidy. 

You know it’s weird for him. Suddenly having someone nag at him not to be a slob or to take breaks in between driving so he doesn’t wear himself out. It’s an adjustment you see him struggle with sometimes. 

You try not to be too pushy, but there’s only so many times you can flick crumbs from his burgers off your seat before you lose it. “Logan!” You snap, glaring at him as you stand up only to find chip crumbs squished into the fabric of your leggings. 

He glances over at you and shrugs, “What?” 

You glance between the crumbs and him with a glare but he doesn’t seem to be connecting the dots. “Fucks sake,” you grumble, passive-aggressively wiping the truck seat off before you slam the door and storm towards the diner. 

You’re sick of being cramped in the truck. You’re sick of the greasy food. You’ve begun to crave salads lately. Which is beyond weird. But the novelty of shitty food and milkshakes wore off a hundred miles ago. 

Logan catches up to you, huffing with irritation as he swings the door open for you. You take a seat in the booth near the corner, snatching up the menu and pointedly staring at it and not him. “Really?” He demands. When you don’t answer he tips the menu down, forcing you to meet his gaze. “What is your problem?” He hisses, trying not to draw attention to you both. 

You lean in, voice a harsh whisper. “How hard is it to just not make a mess? We live out of that damn truck, the least you could do is keep your crumbs on your side.”

He rolls his eyes and leans back in the booth. You’re both sick of having the same fight. But there’s really nothing else to do anymore. When you’re stuck together for so long, it’s the small things that get to you. 

You’re going to say more but the waitress pops in front of you out of nowhere. “Hi!” She beams and gives you her name, the bows in her hair trembling at how hyper she is. “What can I get you both today?”

You and Logan place your orders, and he shoots you an odd look when you only order the salad. “We’ve got a couple more hours ahead of us, you’re gonna get hungry.”

You cross your arms and shrug, “No, I won’t.”

He licks his lips, sucking on his teeth and leaning against the table. “Yes, you will,” he argues with a stern voice. 

You narrow your eyes at him and give him a bitter smile. “Kiss. My. Ass.”

Your stomach grumbles for the third time and you know that Logan can hear it. You’re pointedly not making eye contact with him. It feels like it's louder than the music at this point and you really don’t want to prove him right. 

Without a word, he begins to dig around in the center console. You glance towards him, confused, “What’re you doing?”

He doesn’t say anything, just tosses whatever he’s grabbed onto your lap. You glance down at it and frown. It’s somehow cold as you unwrap it. You pull the parchment paper away and let out a relieved sigh. 

He ordered you a wrap from the diner without you realizing. You take a bite, your hunger steadily easing away. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, pointedly looking out the window. 

He glances over at you and scoffs. “What was that? Couldn’t hear ya, kid.” 

You roll your eyes and turn to glare at him. He’s already looking at you, a teasing tilt to his lips. “I said I’m sorry,” you snap. “I shouldn’t have been a bitch.”

He shakes his head and waves you off. “I haven’t exactly been pleasant myself. I’ll,” he huffs lowly and forces the words out, “clean up more.”  

“I think we’ve just been stuck on the road too long. We’re gonna end up driving each other insane.”

His eyes glance along the signs on the highway. There’s a notice for food and shopping at the next exit and he nods towards it. “We’ll stop at a motel for a few nights. Take a break.” You want to ask him if he’s sure that’s smart. 

It seems risky, to slow down for so long. But you need to walk around, breathe fresh air, and stretch your legs. You’re too selfish to tell him not to stop and keep going. Instead, you nod and smile at him. “That sounds really nice.”

He gives you a slight smile that’s gone as quickly as it came, reaching over and resting his hand on your thigh. You move closer to him and he turns the radio up. You wonder why he doesn’t want to talk anymore but you don’t push it. You’re too excited to finally get out of the truck again. 

The town is nice enough. It’s small, with only a few shops where you buy some new shirts to replace one’s that Logan has torn up. The motel you’re staying at doesn’t have a washing machine so you have to use the laundromat to wash your clothes. 

Logan says he’s going to see if he can find a quick job nearby. You wonder if that means a real job or a more bloody one. You decide not to ask questions, instead taking the little change you have and figuring you’ll try to get the smell of grease out of all your clothes. 

As you load the machine up and put your quarters in you can’t escape the feeling of someone watching you. You’ve been on high alert ever since Logan stole you away from the house. But this is different. 

You’ve gotten used to your own paranoia, you know when it’s real or not. You walk away from the machine, glancing out at the glass walls near the front and trying to see if there’s someone out there. This, oddly enough, doesn’t feel like a police stakeout where they’re going to track you back to the motel and bust Logan. 

This is something different. There is a deep-seated primal fear in you that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Your heart races as your eyes search the dark street outside. What little glow comes from the streetlights isn’t enough for you to clearly make anything out. 

But you feel them, tracking your every move. They’re somewhere nearby, you can’t see them but they see you. You feel sick to your stomach. You glance at the door before racing towards it. You turn the lock, slowly backing away and keeping your eyes trained on the street. 

You look into the shadows and find shapes and movements where there are none. Your eyes spin as your brain crafts a horrible image of some monster waiting outside for you. When the timer for the washer goes off you let out a sharp scream, spinning around and clutching your chest as you glare at it. 

“Fuck’s sake,” you mutter, angrily running your hand over your face and trying to catch your breath. You put the clothes in the dryer and by the time you're done, the feeling is gone. You don’t know if they were never there to begin with, or if they got bored and left. 

You’d told Logan that you didn’t need a ride, you’d just walk the short distance back to the motel. Now, you use the phone on the front counter and call him, telling him you’ve changed your mind after all. 

By the time he picks you up, he looks incredibly concerned. You know you sounded panicked when you called him. You still feel upset about the whole thing. But when he asks what’s wrong you just tell him you got a little scared walking back in the dark. 

You don’t tell him someone was watching you because you know he’ll make you pack up and leave again. You want some stability. Even if it's just for a week. So, as stupid as it is, you lie to him and say everything’s fine. 

When you try to go to sleep that night you feel like you’re being watched again. Even with the curtains closed their eyes burn into you. You toss and turn under the heavy weight of the sheets, struggling to get comfortable. 

There’s a low grumble behind you before Logan throws his arm over your waist and tugs you back into his chest. “Stop movin’ around,” he demands, his voice barely audible. You smile a little at how tired he sounds before forcing yourself to settle down. 

He doesn’t give you much choice, using his body as a weight to keep you pinned. You still feel their gaze, even more now, but his proximity brings you enough comfort to get a little bit of restless sleep. 

Logan’s up before you, he always is. He comes in with cheap coffee and free breakfast from the lounge. You push the sheets off your legs, your shirt sticking to your back from the cold sweat of your nervous sleeping. You feel a little more at ease this morning. 

You wonder if you’re developing some late-in-life fear of the dark. You don’t know why you were so upset last night, you feel perfectly fine now. It’s almost like it was all one bad dream. Logan walks over, handing you the coffee wordlessly and rustling around in your bag for something. 

He pulls out the envelope of cash you keep stashed away and frowns at the contents. “Found a job,” he mutters, stuffing the envelope away and turning back towards you. He leans against the desk, face pensive. 

You rub your eyes, trying to wake yourself up a bit more so you sound coherent. “What is it?” You take a sip of the coffee and your face screws up at the aftertaste. 

“Fighting,” his tone is clipped and you wonder what’s got him up in arms. He walks past you, heading into the bathroom, and closing the door behind him. You tilt your head, gaze following him curiously. He doesn’t normally close the door, he usually likes to invite you to join him. 

Something happened and you wonder if he’s hiding the same thing you are. You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath and closing your mind off to the fear from last night. 

By the time Logan is done in the bathroom, you’re feeling more awake. You can’t just dismiss what happened last night. You’ve never gotten scared like that before. You refuse to ignore your instincts, but you’re also not going to let whoever that was terrify you into going back on the road. 

You don’t want things between you and Logan to grow more tense than they already are. The time away from each other yesterday helped a lot. You no longer want to strangle him when you hear him breathe. You’ll just stick closer to him today and see if you feel the eyes on you again tonight. 

“So,” you start, testing the waters to see if he’s still in a bad mood. He glances over at you, eyebrows quirked in curiosity but you’re tongue-tied as you stare at him. However many weeks you’ve been with him and you’re never gonna get used to seeing him straight out of the shower. 

The towel is draped low on his hips, giving you a taunting look at what lies underneath the white cloth. Droplets drip down his abs and you’ve never wanted to be water more than you do right now. It’s unfair, just how attractive he is. 

You always forget what you’re going to say. You can’t think when he has a shirt off, it’s infuriating. Scoffing, you turn away from him and shake your head. You hear him chuckle, you know he knows what you’re thinking about. 

“What’s wrong?” He creeps up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you back into his chest. 

“Logan, dammit,” water soaks into the back of your shirt uncomfortably and you tilt your head to glare at him. 

He smirks down at you, “Cat got your tongue, kid?”

You roll your eyes and push away from him. “I can’t even remember what I was going to say.” You snatch a shirt from the dresser and shove it into his hands. “Put this on.”

He scoffs and gives you a disbelieving look. “Are you serious?” You wait for him, gaze expectant. You’re not gonna be able to think when he looks like this. Sighing, he acquieses and tugs the shirt on. His lips fall into a sarcastic line, “Happy?”

Like a switch being flipped you finally remember what you were going to ask him. “The job you told me about. Where is it?”

You can see on his face how little he wants to divulge that information to you. But you know he’s going to tell you. You two made a deal not to hide things, although, you might be breaking your side of that right now. 

“Some shitty bar a few miles from here. Listen-”

You’re not gonna like it. 

I don’t want you tagging along. 

You should just stay here and read or some shit.

You wonder which one he’ll pick today. “You wouldn’t like it, it’s just a shitty little place where I can make some quick cash.” Look at that, it’s rarely ever your first pick excuse. You must be getting better at reading him. 

“I’ll come with you,” you tell him because you’re not asking. You’re not staying by yourself tonight and you both need the money. You grin at him even as his face falls in disappointment. “Maybe I’ll fight.”

He doesn’t even say anything and you immediately regret what you said. The look he’s giving you would put you six feet under if it could. “It was just a joke,” you mutter.

“Wasn’t funny, kid,” he tells you, tone clipped as he moves around you to grab his jeans. “I don’t even want you in those places, let alone fuckin’ fighting.”

You purse your lips and take a seat on the bed, handing him his jacket when he begins looking for it. “I have abilities too, you know. Maybe I could win a fight.”

“Don’t,” he snaps. “I win because I can take the hits people deal me. You can’t,” you don’t bother arguing with him that you heal too. You understand what he means. You might be able to recover physically, but there’s a mental aspect to being knocked on the ground. There’s humiliation and fear in cage fights, you probably wouldn’t be able to handle that side of it. 

He waits for you to say anything else but when he realizes you’ve dropped the subject he lets out a relieved sigh. “You’ll stay in the truck,” he tries. 

You give him a deadpan look, slipping the keys out of your purse and handing them to him. “No way in hell, but I’ll stay by the bar if it makes you feel better.” He stays silent and nods but you know he’ll try and convince you otherwise when you actually get to the place. Tough luck, though, you don’t think it’s safe for either of you to be apart tonight. Even if it’s just staying in the truck. 

The setup of these places is always the same. Though, this bar seems to be particularly disgusting in comparison to other ones you’ve been to. You position yourself near the corner, your back to the wall so you’re less likely to be noticed in the crowd. 

The fights never last more than a few minutes. And that’s if Logan is feeling generous. Most of the time you only need to be here an hour before people get pissed off and go home. Someone bumps into you and you hear a small, “I’m sorry,” before they rush to claim a stool. 

The crowd’s already begun to die out. Most leave while they still have a little money left in their pockets. You duck your head down, catching the eye of the girl who’d bumped into you. She looks young and incredibly skittish. Her eyes keep darting to the tip jar near the bartender. 

She quietly asks for water but the bartender just shakes his head, tugging the jar closer to him. You don’t know why you’re drawn to her, maybe it’s because she looks like one of those sad pound puppies, but you take a seat beside her. 

“Water,” you order, slipping him some change. When he gives it to you, you pass it off to her, spotting the greedy way she eyes it. You know a runaway when you see one, she clearly needs a little help. But Logan’s got enough on his shoulders, you’re not gonna bug him with adding another person to the mix. 

“Thank you,” she gulps it down like she hasn’t drunk anything in days. You feel your stomach twist with empathy. What little cash you have in your wallet, you slip into her bag as you pass by her. Logan will have made enough for it to be spared and it's the least you can do. 

Not everyone is as lucky as you to have someone help them navigate a new life. 

Logan grabs his jacket, wiping blood off from under his nose and heading towards you. You know he’ll want a drink before you go, he always does. Before he can say anything someone’s shouting the name he uses in the cage. “Hey, Wolverine! I want my fucking money back.”

The big man he’d knocked down earlier takes a step towards him. His friend tries to hold him back, but there’s no stopping him. He’s already had his ass kicked once, what makes him think this is going to be any different?

“Not your money anymore, bub.” Logan scoffs and turns back towards you. You just want to leave now. You don’t want to stay for a drink or go get something to eat. You feel the eyes on you again, but when you turn to find them there’s no one there but the girl. 

And she’s not looking at you. Her eyes are wide and staring at something else. “Behind you!” She screeches, and both you and Logan whirl around to find the man barreling towards him with a knife outstretched. 

Logan moves so quickly that you stumble back slightly. He grabs the guy's arm, twisting his wrist until the knife drops to the ground. He shoves him back against the wall, claws out and pinning him there.

“Shit,” you whisper, glancing around as the few patrons of the bar stare in horror at Logan. The people counting his money stop and tuck it back into the cash box. You clench your eyes shut in irritation, he’s not gonna be getting paid tonight, that’s for sure. 

There’s a strange noise behind you, like someone cocking a gun. You turn around slowly, gasping when you see the bartender pointing the barrel of his shotgun at your chest. He’s not aiming it at Logan, he’s aiming it at you. Like he somehow knows that’s the only way to get him to back off. 

It’s not like he was going to kill the guy, besides, he came at him with a knife first. What’s the difference if Logan’s a mutant? He’s defending himself. Why does no one understand that?

“Get out of my bar,” the old man warns lowly, taking a step closer to you. Logan turns around and finally spots what’s going on. 

“Pay me and I’ll be on my way.” You know you’d be able to heal from the shotgun blast, but you don’t exactly want to go through it. 

The old man laughs and shakes his head. “You’re not getting paid, buddy. Get the fuck out of my bar before I put a hole in your little girlfriend.”

Your eyes narrow in disbelief. You debate with yourself for a moment, if this is smart or not. But the guy’s being a prick and you’re sick of people treating mutants like they’re less than nothing. You flick your wrist and the shotgun goes flying out of his hand. 

You glance over at the cashbox and it comes floating towards you, landing easily in your outstretched palm. “Be thankful I’m not blowing a hole in you,” you warn, glaring at the cowering man. You walk forward and he stumbles back and you try not to focus on the sick feeling of satisfaction it brings you. You grab the tip jar and shove it towards the girl at the end of the bar. “Good luck, kid.”

Logan releases the man from the before, taking a step towards you. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and rush towards the exit of the bar. You need to just get the fuck out of this town as quickly as possible, you’re not safe here anymore. 

Logan seems to agree with you. He gets into the truck and doesn’t turn back to the motel. Instead, he turns onto the highway while you keep your eyes peeled on the trees outside your window. There’s someone out there, still following you. 

“Something’s wrong with the suspension,” you glance up from where you’d been working on breaking open the cashbox and frown. Logan’s glaring down at the steering wheel, it seems like he’s struggling to get it to turn properly. 

“What?”

He scoffs and glares at you, “How should I know?” He pulls over to the side of the road, opens his door, and lets in a rush of cool air and snow. You toss the cashbox to the back of the trailer and follow after him. 

He goes to where he’s pulling his motorcycle and you feel like you notice an extra bump under the tarp. “What’s that?” You take a step towards it just as Logan pulls it back. You have to bite back a laugh when you see the girl from last night curled up next to his motorcycle. 

She gives you both guilty looks and slowly sits up. “I’m sorry,” Logan offers her a hand and she gets out of the trailer. He grabs her bag and drops it at her feet. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Find a different ride,” he growls, already heading back to the truck. You open your mouth, prepared to argue, but you can’t force her on him. As much as you might want to help her. She’s better off away from the two of you.

“You’re just gonna leave me here?” She snaps at him, a little attitude finally showing through. 

“Yep!” He gets in the truck and you know he wants to drive off immediately but he has to wait for you. You shoot her an apologetic look as you follow after him, slipping into the seat beside him. He starts the engine, driving off slowly, eyes drifting towards the rearview mirror. 

You bite your tongue, trying not to point out how cruel he is leaving her on a snowy highway in the middle of nowhere. He glances over at you, “What?” He snaps. 

You shake your head and shrug. “Nothing.” You’ve barely finished speaking before he’s slamming on his brakes. 

“God dammit,” he mutters, running a hand over the stubble on his jaw. You can’t help the grin on your face, reaching over to open your door. It doesn’t take long for the girl to catch on, scooping up her bag and chasing after you. 

“You’re such a softie,” you tease him. 

“Shut the hell up.”

Rogue is nice, if not a little odd. She claims to be a mutant too but doesn’t want to give specifics on her abilities. You don’t want to push her but you are curious about the gloves she wears. “What kind of name is Wolverine?” She asks, spotting Logan’s tags. 

He glances over at her and smiles slightly, “What kind of a name is Rogue?”

She goes to say something but you throw your arm out, holding her back as you shout, “Logan, watch out!” He tries to hit his brakes in time but the tree’s already coming down. The truck slams into it and it’s like time slows down, only for a moment. 

You can feel the impact of your body against the windshield, the glass dragging along your scalp and skin. It’s like a million razors each slicing into you. And then, you’re flying through the air, head snapping so hard against the ground you can’t see anything. 

You hear something happening around you, a roar that doesn’t sound human echoing through the air. There’s the sound of metal crunching and someone is screaming in the distance but you can’t see. It’s not like a total void of darkness, there’s just nothing. 

You feel the blood slowly leaking down the back of your skull and something lands harshly against your head. You don’t think much time has passed. When your eyes finally open, however, you’re not lying on the pavement. 

The world around you is foreign. It smells like a hospital but it’s not like any you’ve ever seen. X-rays are hanging on the wall and paperwork is scattered on a desk near the bed you’re lying on. 

Your mind is blank for a moment. Slowly turning back on while you process the sudden change of scenery. You don’t even remember closing your eyes, you don’t know when your vision came back to you or how long you’ve been here. 

The terror sets in quickly. You throw the blankets off your legs, staring down at the pajamas you wear in disgust. Someone had changed you. They’d run tests and done X-rays on you and you don’t remember a second of it. 

You rip the needle out of your arm, tossing it to the floor and running towards the door. Your feet slip on the metal floors as you run but you’re afraid to stop. Everything around you looks more and more like a lab. 

Did someone from the bar call some government agency? You’ve heard horror stories from your father about the tests the military has run on mutants. You’re starting to worry that’s what's happening to you. 

But you doubt the military would make it so easy for you to escape. This has to be something else. You’d heard other voices when you’d been lying on the ground. People who had been trying to help. Could that be who took you?

“You caught on quicker than your friend.” You nearly fall flat on your face, flipping around to see who spoke. But no one’s there. You’re completely alone. “I’m just grateful you didn’t choke out one of my associates.” it’s coming from beside you now. 

It’s all around you, the voice floating through the walls until you think he might be in your mind. “Much faster than your friend,” he sounds gleeful and it makes you even more anxious. “I’m a telepath, darling, nothing to fear. If you’d just take that elevator and come up to meet me.”

You’d have to be an idiot to actually listen to the voices in your head. But you don’t see another way out of here. So, reluctantly, you follow the floating voice’s instructions and slip inside the elevator. 

When the door opens up again you don’t have a chance to step inside before someone’s pushing you back. Logan stands in front of you, hands clamped tightly around your shoulders while he looks you over. 

You sink into his arms, hugging him tightly to you. You’d been terrified you were all alone here. It’s more than a relief to see him again. “You’re okay?” He asks, pulling back to look at you one last time. 

You nod, throat too dry to try and form a coherent sentence. You glance over his shoulders brows furrowed at the people awkwardly watching you reunite. There’s a man in a wheelchair smiling at you, “Ah, glad you could make it.” The floating voice, of course. “Logan here was quite worried about you.”

Logan turns to glare at the man and you offer a slight smile. There is something comforting about him. You’re not exactly threatened by an old guy in a wheelchair. The redhead behind him, however, is bugging you. Something about the way she’s looking at Logan doesn’t sit right with you. 

“Welcome to my school for the exceptionally gifted,” something about the way he says that makes you tilt your head in confusion. You don’t know what he means until there’s a puff of smoke behind him and some kid is walking by with their hair on fire like it’s nothing. 

Mutants. It’s an entire school for mutants. You think you could pass out again. 

“It’s the best place we could have ended up, Logan. This is amazing.” You’ve been going back and forth for an hour. He won’t see reason. He keeps saying you need to leave. That you don’t know these people and it could all be one big trap. 

You don’t understand him, why he’s so desperate to get away from people like the both of you.  You’re rejected in every other corner of society. You could have something real here. 

It hits you at once. That’s the problem. He’s not ready for something real. He’s not used to it because he’s never had it before. At least you could pretend at a sense of normalcy living at home. It’s an entirely new concept to him, sticking to one place for so long. 

“We don’t know these people,” he hisses, leaning over the bed to argue with you. You narrow your eyes but your conversation is cut off by a knock on the door. You sigh, walking away from him and swinging the door open. 

Jean is on the other side, a surprised look on her face when she sees you. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was trying to drop these off to Logan.” You glance down at the towels in your hand and give her a strained smile. That’s a flimsy excuse if you’ve ever seen one. “I must have the wrong room.”

You step to the side, opening the door wider so she can see him. He doesn’t even look at her, too busy angrily unmaking the bed. “No, you have the right one.” You hold your hands out expectantly, “I can just take those for you.”

The look on her face is priceless and finally causes a real smile to grow on your lips. She wordlessly hands you the towels, looking disappointed. You don’t know if it's because of what she was trying to do, or because she couldn’t do it. 

Before she leaves you call out a quick, “Tell Scott I said thank you again. Wouldn’t be here without him, after all.” Her shoulders tense and she rushes back down the hall. Whatever little crush or interest she has with Logan is going to need to be dealt with on her own. 

You’ve got enough shit going on without having to worry about her too. You shake your head and slam the door shut, tossing the towels on the desk. Logan sits on the bed, watching you with an odd look. 

“What was that about?”

“She’s into you,” you tell him bluntly, waiting for his reaction. He doesn’t even blink, just glances between the towels and you before shrugging. 

“Not interested.” You don’t want to admit that you feel any relief. There was never any real doubt. But it’s still nice to be reassured. 

You slip into bed beside him, taking his hand and forcing him to meet your gaze. “I know that this isn’t what either of us was expecting, but this is good, Logan. We don’t have to worry about pretending we’re something we’re not. We don’t have to worry about my dad or anyone finding us.”

He doesn’t look entirely convinced. But he lets out a heavy sigh and drags you closer to him. He tucks your head under his chin, placing a brief kiss against your forehead. “If you want to stay, we’ll stay. But I’m not putting on that fucking costume.”

You laugh a little, peering up at him with a grin, “Deal.” 

There’s a place for you here, even if there isn’t in the rest of the world. You can be safe here, you don’t have to worry anymore. You don’t have to fear the eyes on the back of your head because they can’t get you here. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡ 

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allilium @insomniachox  ♡ 

Asked for part two: @enchantedbutterflies @strawberrylore @ittoscumdump @enananawoah @wotcherboo

@cali0101 @fluffy-b33z @pcrushinnerd @izbelross @saltwaterburns

@likeficsinthewnd ♡ 

[luxaofhesperides]

I'm not sure if you're still taking Ghostlights requests, but if you are: Dick asking Duke to take Haley to the dog park for him in order to set up a meet-cute for him with the guy with the weird green rottweiler

And if you aren't, just know that you're doing great and I appreciate the hell out of you

“Oh, shoot!” 

Hearing Dick rush around as a frantic mess is not uncommon while he’s in Gotham. There’s too many people wanting to spend time with him that he ends up pulled in a bunch of different directions. Dick’s always in a rush, always busy, always making time for people because he has more love than Duke has ever seen in a person.

Dick’s also got pretty good time management skills after years of doing this. He’s only cutting out a few minutes early for their designated three hour catch-up session. 

That doesn’t mean he’s going to do it gracefully, though.

“Almost lost track of the time!” he says, moving to the couch to pick up his jacket. “Hey, Duke, can do you me a favor while I’m out?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Can you take Haley to the dog park? I usually take her twice a week around this time, but I totally forgot to include that in my calendar this week so I’ve got plans with the Titans just outside the city, and no time to take her out.”

“Yeah, man, of course I can take her to the dog park. The one attached to Robinson Park, right?”

Dick nods, shoving his shoes onto his feet. “That’s the one! Her treats are also in the bag hanging next to her leash. Oh, and she has a friend at the dog park! Don’t be scared when you see him, he’s just green.”

“Oh…kay?”

“Great, thanks! Bye, Duke, I’ll see you later!”

And with that, Dick is gone, closing the door to his safehouse as he dashes into the hall. 

Duke is left alone in Dick’s Gotham safehouse, blinking dazedly at the empty space where he once was. He’s certainly a whirlwind of activity when he realizes he’s going to be late. He’s also skilled in just saying things and leaving before any questions can be answered.

Haly jumps up onto the couch next to Duke. They share a look, then Duke shakes his head. “You have to deal with that every day, huh?”

Haly, the good girl that she is, doesn’t say anything bad against her owner and just puts a paw on Duke’s thigh, her tail wagging. 

“I hear ya, girl. Let’s go to the dog park to meet your green friend,  I guess.”

He has no idea what that means, honestly. Is Dick just talking about a dog that got its fur dyed green? Or is Haly’s friend like… a mutant dog? 

Well, he’s not going to find out by stalling. 

Duke pets Haly, then stands up and walks to the door. Her head perks up as soon as she hears the jangle of her leash being moved, and then she’s running to the door, looking up at him expectantly. Smiling, Duke slips the harness onto her, then attached it to the leash. He gives her another quick pet before shoving on his shoes and grabbing her bag of treats and waste disposal bags. 

He double checks that he has his phone, then takes hold of Dick’s spare safehouse key and steps out into the hallway with Haly. She waits patiently as he locks the door, checks that the lock holds, then runs down the hallway, ripping the leash right out of his hands.

“Haly! Wait! Stop, girl!”

She happily ignores him and goes straight for the elevator, leaving him to run after her and quickly scoop up the leash as soon as he’s close enough.

“Of course you’re a little escape artists,” he says to her, “Just like your owner.”

Haly woofs softly, then stands up and scratches at the doors of the elevator. Shaking his head, amused, Duke pushes the button to call the elevator and wonders if Dick has to deal with this every time they go to the dog park. 

On one hand, it wouldn’t surprise him since Dick is absolutely the kind of guy to give in to his dog’s every whims and spoil her rotten. On the other hand, Duke fully believes that Haly is smart enough and cute enough to misbehave only when Dick isn’t around so he never believes people when they try to tell him about all the mischief she’s caused. 

Dogs and their owners really do reflect one another. The internet was right about that.

Duke makes sure to keep a tight grip on Haly’s leash once they leave the apartment building. The streets are busy, as they tend to be on weekends, and the sight of Haly straining against her leash, ready to run, brings a smile to more than one face. 

He plots the route to the dog park in his mind, then starts up a light jog, tugging lightly on the leash to prompt Haly to follow him. 

It’s nice to run just for the sake of it. Haly makes a good running partner as well. 

How long has it been since Duke had time to relax and not be prepared for the worst? All the running he usually does these days is to catch up with criminals or run for his life. Being out during the day, moving through the city, without any lives in danger? Genuinely nice and relaxing. 

Maybe he can offer to take Haly to the dog park from now on. Join Dick whenever he goes. Create a set few hours where he doesn’t do anything but enjoy being outside in one of the few places where the smog of pollution and chemical toxins isn’t so thick in the air. 

He’ll just have to make sure Dick doesn’t agree to something else during those days. It’s still strange to think that Dick could forget to do something involving Haly when he’s such a good dog owner and a pro at juggling various responsibilities and a busy schedule. 

Well, they all have off days. This must be one of Dick’s.

The sidewalks get wider once they reach the street that leads to the park. Families fill up the space, walking with strollers in front of them or lined up at a food cart. The vivid green of spring fills the grassy fields that lead to the large patches of trees, marking the edge of Poison Ivy’s territory. Clovers decorate the ground, bees moving from flower to flower. 

There are other dogs on walks as well, making circuits around the park or running after toys. Duke spots a cat in a walking harness as well and wonders if he can convince Damian to get one for Alfred the cat. 

The dog park is on the other end of the park, as far away from Ivy’s territory as possible. The fenced off areas are separated into big dogs and small dogs, with a helpful guide as to which dogs go where posted at the entrance. 

Duke slows to a walk, breathing deeply to help settle his heart rate back down to something normal. Haly walks by his side, tail wagging, as she watches the other dogs run back and forth behind the fence. 

She’s still small, just growing out of puppy size, so Duke leads her into the small dog area, carefully making sure the gate doesn’t open enough for any quick dogs to make a break for it. He walks over to a bench and sits down before undoing the harness on her, setting her loose. 

Haly licks his hand once, then darts away, barking lightly as she joins the other dogs tumbling around each other. 

Amused, Duke leans back at watches as the other dogs sniff her, then do their funny little bowing stomps, moving back and forth before running off so she can give chase. 

He figures staying for an hour will be good enough. That should get the most of her energy out, and then they can make the long trek back to Dick’s safehouse so he can pick her up before he heads back to Bludhaven. Pulling out his phone, Duke settles in to wait, keeping half his attention on Haly just in case any of the other dogs decide to get a little too rough.

The first twenty minutes pass peacefully. Haly runs around and the owners of the other dogs give her pets when she runs up to them. One even went over to Duke to offer him a pack of fruit gummies. 

Then a loud bark fills the air and Duke jerks upright, watching with wide eyes as a colossally large dog, green and glowing and slightly transparent, comes barrelling down the street, headed right towards them. 

He doesn’t have time to yell Haly’s name before the dog is in the fence. None of the other dog owners look alarmed, though, so he watches carefully, prepared to jump up and save Haly at a moment’s notice.

“Cujo!” someone yells from down the street. A guy with dark hair comes running up and smoothly jumps over the fence. “Cujo, how many times do I have to tell you not to run off like that?”

The green dog, apparently Cujo, barks happily.

“And you’re too big for this park right now, buddy. Shrink, boy. It’s time to be small.”

And then Cujo… obeys? The dog shrinks, and instead of being the size of a bus, it’s now small enough to be carried in someone’s arms. 

Green dog is not enough warning for all of that. Dick owes him so much for this.

Actually, he’s kind of shocked that Dick never mentioned this to anyone. Surely a giant green dog would get people’s attention. Why is this the first time he’s heard about it?

“You new around here?” someone asks, and Duke turns to see the person who gave him the fruit gummies.

“Kinda? It’s my first time coming to the dog park. I’m looking after Haly, that one right over there.” He points out Haly, who is running in circles around Cujo.

“Ah, I see. Dick mentioned someone new would be coming today.”

Duke narrows his eyes. He’s starting to get the feeling that he’s been set up for something, but he’s not sure what. 

“I’ll give you the spiel we tell all newcomers, in that case,” they continue. “Cujo is a ghost dog. Poor thing died during some animal testing, far as we know. Danny looks after him, since Cujo got attached to the kid years ago before he moved to Gotham. He’s a kind one, but very nervous, and we’ve all got an agreement to keep quiet about him and Cujo round this parts. You better be holding your tongue, as well, ya hear me?”

“Sure thing,” Duke nods. “My lips are sealed.”

He’ll just ask Dick about the ghost dog situation and do his own investigation if needed. But Cujo is just a dog, and his owner is just a guy. Nothing threatening, nothing requiring a Bat’s attention.

“Good,” they nod. “I’ll get out of your hair now.” They’re gone before Duke can reply, adjusting the hat on their head as they head back to their group in the back left corner of the dog park. 

Satisfied that things are under control, Duke relaxes back into the bench, watching Haly and Cujo tumble around with the other dogs, barking happily. Haly’s still growing into her paws, so she trips and falls often, but gets up without a moments pause, ready to keep playing.

From the corner of his eyes, Duke catches sight of someone walking towards him. 

He looks over and finds Cujo’s owner—Danny, wasn’t it?—approaching. Their eyes meet, and Danny offers him a sheepish smile and a wave. His eyes are a dark blue that seem to glow with some otherworldly light, and Duke can swear he sees something shifting around him, as if the air has turned visible and twists around his body like wisps of smoke. 

“Mind if I sit with you?” Danny asks, and Duke moves to the side a bit.

“Go ahead,” he says.

“You’re Duke, right? Dick told me about you last week.”

It’s looking more and more like Dick is up to something, and Duke will need to get his revenge. “Did he? All good things, I hope.”

“Aha, yeah, all good things. Um, actually I think I should apologize? I maybe said you sounded like my type so Dick promised that he’d get you here somehow. Sorry if this is messing up your plans for the day.”

Oh. Oh! 

Well. That’s interesting. 

Duke quietly shelves his plans for revenge against Dick and takes a proper look at Danny. He’s shy, but with a bright smile, glowing eyes and strange smoke curling around him still, and messy black hair windswept from chasing after Cujo. There’s a flush in his cheeks and his long fingers fiddle with the string of his dark red hoodie. 

“Don’t worry, I didn’t have any plans today. This is way better than just sleeping all day.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Danny laughs, “There’s nothing I like more than being able to sleep all day. That would fix me for sure.”

There’s a loud bark, and Danny’s eyes snap back to Cujo, who is growing bigger. “Cujo!” Danny yells, voice sharp. “Shrink down, or we go home.”

Cujo grumbles, whines, then goes back to being little. The green dog only has a moment to look sad before Haly is tackling him, sending them back into another chase around the park. 

“Sorry about that,” Danny says, slouching against the bench. 

“It’s all good,” Duke replies. “So. I’m your type, huh?”

Danny’s cheeks turn a deep, charming red. He looks away, then nods and ducks his head down. 

“And that hasn’t changed after meeting me?”

Danny shakes his head, then peeks over at Duke, gaze slowly moving up his body until he meets Duke’s eyes. “Definitely hasn’t changed,” he says.

Now it’s Duke’s turn to feel his cheeks burn, flustered and pleasantly surprised by Danny’s boldness. It doesn’t help that Danny is cute, someone he can see himself falling for. 

“Good,” he says, then knocks his knee against Danny’s. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know you more. On one condition.”

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“Tell me what Dick told you about me. I wanna make sure he wasn’t sharing an embarrassing stories about me. If I’m gonna make a fool of myself, then I’ll do it myself with no outside help.”

Danny’s laugh is bright and warm and sends butterflies dancing in Duke’s stomach. “Fair enough!” he says. “And you know what? I’ll trade you for embarrassing stories. Trust me, I have so many. Nothing you’ve done can be worse that the dumb shit I do on a regular basis.”

“Woah, woah, woah, confident, aren’t we? Don’t say that until you’ve heard about some of the stupid situation I choose to throw myself into.”

“Please, I’m an younger brother. If anyone knows how to be stupid, it’s me.”

“I’m part of the disaster that is the Wayne family. I think that has you beat.”

“My parents are mad scientists and my dog is a ghost. Try again.” The teasing smile on Danny’s lips makes him want to be reckless, to keep pushing, to go down this path as far as he can.  Duke can’t remember the last time he clicked with someone so instantly, to be so comfortable with them so soon. 

Damn. He’s gonna have to thank Dick for this, isn’t he?

As if on cue, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Duke pulls it out with an apologetic smile to Danny, who leans back a bit to give him some privacy.

The text that pops up is from Dick. It’s a photo of him and Danny from the side, heads bent close together as they talk with bright smiles. He can just make out the wild red curls of Kori’s hair. 

“I’m gonna put jello in his socks,” Duke says cheerfully, already looking around to find where Dick is hiding. 

He probably already moved locations, the ass. 

“What’s up?” 

He holds out his phone so Danny can see the screen. Danny stares at it, then looks around, then stares at the screen again. 

“...Is he watching us?”

“Yep.”

“...Should we do something about it?”

Duke shrugs. “I mean, I’m up for hunting him down and tackling him if you are.”

“I can do you one better,” Danny says with a sharp grin. He whistles, and Cujo comes running over, Haly at his heels, and he skids to a stop to sit before Danny. “Cujo. You remember Dick?” Cujo barks, as if answering. “Fetch! Go fetch Dick!”

Cujo jumps to his feet, grows from the size of a pug to a bear, and takes off for the art instillation farther into Robinson Park. Moments later, they hear a yell followed by loud laughter, and Cujo and running back, Dick hanging from his mouth, with Kori, Donna, and Roy following after him at a leisurely stroll. 

“I think we’re gonna get along great,” Duke says. “He’s gonna wish he never set us up.”

“That’s the way to do it,” Danny agrees.

“Say, wanna grab lunch together tomorrow?”

Danny blinks, then blushes again. “What, like a date?”

“Yeah, as a date. You up for it?”

“How could I say no? I was promised embarrassing stories.”

He watches as Cujo drops a rumpled looking Dick to the ground, half his shirt soaked with saliva. He dramatically mimes being shot in the heart when he sees them both looking at him, and goes limp when Kori picks him up and tries to set him on his feet. 

Then he tries to act very calm and cool as Danny leans against him. “Think he’s gonna follow up on our date?” Danny asks in a low voice.

Duke closes his eyes and tries not to despair. He didn’t even think of that. “Worse. He’s going to tell everyone else, then we’ll have every available Wayne kid stalking us on our date.”

“Guess I’ll have to rely on you to chase them off, huh?”

“Or we can sic Cujo on them again.”

“Or that,” Danny nods. “It’s always effective.”

He’s really going to have to bring his best to the date tomorrow, just to stay a step ahead of everyone else. Maybe he’ll ask Barbara for a favor and get her to lead them off? And if Bruce gets involved, then Duke is fully prepared to flashbang him, grab Danny, and run. 

It’s going to be a disaster.

It’s going to be fun.

He’s already looking forward to it, and from the mischievous smile on Danny’s face, he’s not the only one.

[imababblekat]

Chase

Anon Request, “Funny ask here! An expert free runner (jumping from building to building) catches the turtles on camera. The boys planned to do the same intimidation act like with April but are shocked when they jet off managing to keep a good distance. Then once they think they have them cornered on a construction site the boys fall through the building roof landing in waist high wet concrete. Looking down at them the runner blows them a kiss before taking off. (P.S. their cool though and just keep the photo as a momento)How do the 4 react to seeing them again when they literally bump into each other on the rooftops?”

 ◌ Part Two ◌

~xXx~

You hadn’t intentionally meant to take a picture of the turtles. If anything it was their fault they ended up in your shot. After finishing a course you’d been aiming at for over a week, you thought it’d be a great moment to capture, but hadn’t expected to catch anyone else in the background of your roof top photo. Much less those anyone’s being four mutant ninja turtles. It was the squak of surprise at the sudden flash of your mini Polaroid that alerted you to them.

Seeing the turtles left you somewhere between an intriguing shock and confused fear, even if seeing one of them rapidly rub at their flashed eyes while over exaggerate about how they burned did indeed give you a little giggle. There wasn’t much time to process the whiplash of emotions however, as one of them, clad in red and quite burly out of the bunch, came marching your way. Not a word had a chance of making its way from their lips, as your body did what it was trained so hard to do, making a mad dash across the old market roof top. Just like that, the four brothers found themselves in a sudden grand chase. “Great job, Raph!”, Leo snapped at said aggravated terrapin, making easy work of hopping over a fenced roof. “I ain’t even do anythin’! It’s your fault!”, Raph retaliated, vaulting over some exterior vents. “Oh, and how is that exactly?!” “You’re the one who gave us the all clear!” Bouncing from wall to wall as the group followed you down into an old parking garage Donnie interjected between the two argumentative brothers. “Guy’s is now really the time?! We kind of have something urgent on our hands.” “Yeah! Like how I can’t see their sick moves because my eyes are still having a disco party!”, Mikey continued to blink rapidly, nearly missing the open edge if not for Donnie giving him aid with his staff. Rolling his own eyes, Leo brushed off the youngest, keeping track of your movements as you scaled your way into a construction building across the way. “Come on, let’s get this over with. There’s no where to go past that building, we’ll catch them there.” All the years of free running across New York, you’d never felt as thrilled as you did now. Sure, it was still terrifying in a way being chased by four giant creatures who were quite nimble despite their enormous size, but you had to be honest in the way their pursuit brought on an adrenaline like no other. They put your skills to the test in a way you could never personally do yourself, and as you swung from a bar into another construction building, you felt elation rush through your body. At least, till you found yourself caught in between a rock and a hard place, staring at a concrete solid wall with no where to escape. Hearing the collective sounds of heavy foot falls, you quickly turned around to find the four beings surrounding the only path you’d have of escape. Seeing the glares upon their faces, your racing heart now beat rapidly for a different reason. Taking a moment to even his breathing, Leonardo stepped forward, watching your reactions carefully. “We’re not going to hurt you. Just. . .don’t scream.”, he spoke as calmly as he could, hands raised to show he had no misleading intentions. You said nothing, just continued to take control of your own breathing as your eyes shifted between him and his brothers. “I’m Leonardo, and these are-“ “I’m Michelangelo, but you can just call me Mikey!”, the orange banded turtle cut in, shoving past his brother and winking at you. “The guy in purple is Donatello, and the one in red who mean mugged you is Raphael! What’s your name angel? I say angel, because there’s no way you could have crossed those alleyways so eloquently without a pair of wings~.” “Mikey!”, all three other brothers shouted in unison. “What?!” With a light groan, Donnie reminded him of their current objective. “We’re here to get the photo. Not you a love interest.” “Oooooh right, the photo!” Your eyes shifted from Raphael, back to Mikey as he moved closer, three fingered hand reaching out. Sifting into your pocket it didn’t take long to pull out the small square picture. Despite it being exposed and grainy in some parts, the tangibility of the photo and the story it now held caused a surprising sorrow in your heart to have to depart with it. Yet, gazing back up to the four mutants before you, you understood why they’d want it. With the way you reacted, who could imagine how others might to their discovery. You met Mikey half way, extending your own hand to give him the small photo, fingers lightly brushing the other. All of a sudden, a loud crack was heard, and all five of you stood frozen. Before anyone could blink, the floor caved in, the four brothers descending down into dust and debris, and you with quick reflexes pressing tight back against the concrete wall. Once the clouded air had settled, you quickly peaked over into the newly established hole, a surge of worry for the ninja quartet. Relief washed through as you caught sight of the brothers who had landed in a mucky puddle, most likely sore from the fall but seemingly fine otherwise. As the boys groaned and started another round of arguing with one another, you suddenly remembered the photo and quickly checked your closed fist to find it still there. Carefully bringing the picture before you to look at once more, a thought had emerged. This was the most fun you had in long time, the most alive you’ve felt in a while. Recalling the kind smile Mikey had given you and Leo’s mindful approach as to not frighten you, you considered the growing idea in your mind even more. Making up your mind, you gently tucked the photo back into your pocket with a gleeful grin. You swore to yourself that night to never show anyone that picture, but as long as you held on to it, you knew you’d eventually wind up seeing the turtles again. With that, you skipped from the tiny ledge along the wall, and whistled to catch the turtles’ attention. “Bye boys! It was nice meeting you!” Loud shouts and scrambling could be heard as each one clambered over the other, slipping back and forth into the deep puddle in an effort to get up and to you, but by the time they’d get themselves straightened out, you’d be long gone with anticipating hope of the next chase.

~xXx~

[multi-fandoms-posts]

Charles Xavier x reader

Charles Xavier has tracked down some mutants to form a team, including Y/N, who can teleport.

Your view:

The house Charles lives in is really big. When Charles asked me if I wanted to be on the team, I said yes without hesitation. Charles is so cute and hot, I fell in love with him immediately. Right now I wish I was a telepath and could find out if he feels exactly the same.

I teleport around a bit, and when I teleport again, Charles and I are standing very close to each other. He looks at me with a slight surprise, I blush and immediately take a few steps back. "I'm sorry," I say. "You don't have to apologize," he smiles.

His smile is so sweet. Charles heard what she was thinking and smiled even more.

"I see you've been looking around a bit," he says. "Yeah, but I can't really control where I want to go," I say. "That's why we're practicing. Hey, have you ever teleported someone?" he asks, and I shake my head. Charles takes my hand in his. "Try it," he smiles. "No, Charles, what if something happens? What if it goes wrong?" I ask anxiously. "I trust you, trust yourself too. You can do it, Y/N," he smiles. "Try teleporting us to the living room, think about the room," he says, and I close my eyes and think about the living room, but suddenly my mind wanders and the next thing I know we're in the bedroom, stumbling into bed. Instinctively, Charles wraps his arms around my waist and I land right on top of Charles. For a moment, I bury my face in his chest, unable to believe what just happened. I lift my head and blush. "I'm sorry, Charles," I say. All I get from him is a grin. I like the position we're in.

I want to get up, but Charles is still holding me.

How perfect would it be if he kissed me! Charles hears her thoughts and grins.

Charles puts a hand on my neck and pulls me down to him. Our lips touch. The kiss is gentle and full of unspoken feelings. His tongue enters my mouth and I moan softly into the kiss. Unconsciously, I move my hips back and forth a little. Charles breaks the kiss and lets out a growl. He grabs my hips and I feel his growing erection. "Charles," I moan.

His other hand wanders under my shirt. A knock on the door interrupts us. "Charles, are you here?" Erik calls. "One moment," Charles calls back.

We unintentionally break apart and stand up, adjusting our clothes. I look at Charles and grin. "What?" he asks, and I point to the obvious bulge in his pants.

Before Charles can really react, Erik opens the door and Charles simply grabs a pillow and holds it in front of it.

Erik looks between me and Charles as he starts to grin. "Did you have a private meeting?" he asks, amused. I blush. "And If?" Charles asks. "Why are you holding the pillow like that?" Erik continues. Charles senses my discomfort. "What is it, Erik?" Charles asks. "We wanted to go over the plan again. But I see you have more important things to do," Erik says, grinning. "Oh my God," I whisper to myself. "Erik," Charles says. "Yes?" he says. "Go away," Charles says. Erik laughs and closes the door behind him. I breathe a sigh of relief and look at Charles, who comes over to me and kisses me again. I put my arms around his neck. We move towards the bed. When my legs touch the bed, we break from the kiss and Charles pushes me onto the bed and climbs over me.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asks and I nod quickly. "Yes," that's all he needs and he starts kissing my neck.

The next morning

I sit on the edge of the bed. It was an amazing night, but I'm afraid it's just a one-time thing for him. "Y/N," his sleepy voice sounds and I jump slightly. I turn to Charles, who is just sitting up. "What's wrong? It's still early in the morning. Come back to bed," he smiles.

"Charles, I..." I don't even know how to begin. "Darling, what's wrong?" he asks, worried. I smile a little when he calls me 'Darling.' I take a deep breath. "Is this a one-time thing?" I ask, looking away, afraid of the truth. Charles gently grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. "Y/N, this wasn't a one-time thing. Even though we've only known each other for a short time, I fell in love with you immediately," he smiles. "You love me?" I ask, smiling. "Yes," he smiles. "I love you too," I smile.

"Let's get some more sleep before we have to get up," he says and I snuggle up to his side. Charles puts his arms around me and holds me tightly.

Later that day, everyone knew we were together. Firstly, because Erik couldn't keep his mouth shut and secondly, because I have a few love bites on my neck that are hard to hide.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

was in the process of starting writing an eridan centric no sburb au and the more i write the more i’m like goddamnit pale erikar is happening without me even trying you’ve 100% gotten me invested

YEAH. Even if you just go purely by canon, their personalities just wind up meshing so well.

Like how Karkat gives Eridan special treatment and is extra nice to him because he knows how rough it is to be in Eridan's thinkpan.

Or how Eridan is willing to immediately shelve his own problems whenever he hears that Karkat isn't doing well emotionally and basically demands to give him emotional support.

Or how Karkat lies to Vriska that nobody listens to him talk about quadrant stuff when we've seen them talk to each other and we know they gossip about that shit all the time.

Or how Eridan is basically the only person who's ever succeeded in getting Karkat to calm the fuck down, by virtue of his incredible obtuseness, like, he doesn't even need to try.

Or how Karkat makes a bunch of death threats to Eridan and Eridan takes it as "ironic repartee," meaning that Karkat's usual problem with mixed signals is not a problem to Eridan, because Eridan is honestly just happy for the attention.

Or how they're so in sync with each other that Karkat telling Past!Eridan that their pact is over led to Eridan assuming they have a pact, and Past!Karkat hears about it and just rolls with it, because apparently it makes sense that they have a pact or something with a caveat that they be nice to each other. Of course.

Or how they talk so often that Feferi outright laments how it leaves Eridan with nothing left to talk to her about.

Or how, even before he knows that Karkat is a mutant, Karkat is still one of his best friends, and their relationship doesn't change after Eridan finds out - in fact, unlike Vriska or Equius or Gamzee, who make comments about his blood color (Gamzee calls him a punchline blooded motherfucker), Eridan never even bothers to mention it. (Because he doesn't actually give a shit about the hemocaste, it's basically all performative).

Or how Eridan knows Karkat well enough to know that Gamzee's advice to just be chill and w/e doesn't work for Karkat.

Or how Karkat's response to Gamzee going murderous is "oh god oh fuck oh man oh fuck" and his message to Past!Gamzee is "get out of here, this barely even concerns you," but his response to Eridan going murderous is a very personal "fuck you, BACKSTABBER, HOW COULD YOU???"

Or how Karkat has a double-v typo once and there's a point where Eridan drops his double-letters and yells at Feferi in capslock 👉👈

And that's all JUST CANON. That's all stuff we've SEEN them do. If you start making some extrapolations, there's so much more.

Karkat's dream has always been to become a threshecutioner - a member of the Empress's strongest troops - seeking to find some sort of acceptance within the society that outcasted him if he could prove his worth that way. However, Karkat's the weakest fighter on the team, and given that Eridan's pissed off angels scared everybody else off his planet, it's likely he's one of the best fighters, if not THE best. Combined with his noble status, Eridan was on the fast track to, if not becoming a threshecutioner, then otherwise achieving some great rank or prestige within the Condesce's army. (Even Dualscar, laughable as he was, was still Mindfang's superior).

Karkat would think Eridan is badass.

Meanwhile, Eridan's problems nearly all stem from the pressure he feels to live up to the expectations on his shoulders, as a highblood, as the orphaner, as the person keeping his friends alive, and as a sea dweller. His is a world of constant anxiety and anguish, not helped by his innate troll/highblood volatility and his own knowledge of how dangerous he is. And Karkat is their self-described "fearless leader," who will happily tell everyone what to do.

Eridan would be relieved that the pressure is off his shoulders.

Karkat's had to live in fear for his life for nearly all of it; when Eridan got added to the group chat, Karkat was probably fucking terrified, especially when Feferi got added right after. Like, oh, fuck, it's a sea dweller (noted as being so hostile that even GAMZEE is nervous about being by the water for too long), oh fuck, he knows the heir apparent, oh fuck, he's an insane murderer.

And then... the sea dweller respects his authority. The sea dweller takes him completely seriously, once he gets past all the slurs and talk of genocide, which the sea dweller obviously doesn't actually mean (Eridan's contradictions are REALLY obvious, which is part of why nobody else takes him seriously). The sea dweller doesn't give a shit WHAT his blood color is.

Like, I think Karkat finds a weird sense of safety in having a violet-blood friend that he can make death threats to. Their last memo together implies that such "ironic repartee" is completely normal for the two of them, and I personally like the idea that Karkat at one point took issue with one of the insane shitty things that Eridan likes to say, went off on a classic Karkat Rant, and then went "oh wait. shit. fuck. im so dead," only for Eridan to completely laugh it off and treat it like casual joking around.

And Eridan just craves attention, positive or negative. He desperately wants people to take him seriously and care about him. Kanaya, Vriska, and Feferi don't, because frankly, they don't really get why he's got so many problems - they're all privileged and they like it! - and Terezi is like "yikes. wow. glad that's not my problem," while Gamzee just tells him to chill out (he can't, that's his entire issue) and Equius avoids (void joke ha ha) him. He doesn't really talk to the lowbloods, but given he doesn't express any casteist anti-lowblood sentiment specifically until he's mad at Sollux (and has totally caste-neutral opinions on Sollux before that), it's not even because he doesn't like lowbloods; one has to assume he's got a different reason for avoiding them - like his canonical guilt over all the murders, or an extrapolation of his general anxieties in that he doesn't like talking to people who are going to be dead before he's even 1/100 of a way through his own life, or that the lowbloods tend to avoid him because... yknow, -gestures to all of Eridan-.

But he always had plausible deniability when it came to Karkat, because Karkat was always anonblood; even if he assumes Karkat's an "assblood," he had no way to know for sure 'til he found out Karkat was an off-spec. And Karkat DOES take him seriously, or at least more seriously than anybody else, by a longshot. He's even willing to outright tell Eridan that it's not Eridan's fault Nepeta doesn't reciprocate his feelings. WHO ELSE WOULD DO SUCH A THING???

And on that topic is pity. They both extend to each other a pity that they don't really afford anyone else, and Karkat - with his uncanny romantic acumen - outright says that pity is the driving force for all non-pitch relationships. Because he's the only person who even acknowledges that Eridan's probelms are PROBLEMS, it's clear he feels pity for Eridan's utterly fried thinkpan. Meanwhile, Eridan seems to recognize how sensitive Karkat really is, IMMEDIATELY putting everything else on pause to try to provide Karkat emotional support whenever it's brought up that Karkat is sad.

Eridan never extends this kind of consideration toward anyone else, too busy grandstanding and putting on the Big Bad Sea Dweller act; Karkat never even extends this much sympathy to Gamzee, never once bothering to understand his religion, or comment on his shitty lusus or crisis of faith. Even when he tries to cheer Terezi up, it's not really with outright sympathy - he tries to build up how awesome he thinks she is, or take on the blame for the situation. But with Eridan, he just goes, yeah, okay, shut up. I know it's tough being you.

I think it's also pretty notable that although Eridan comments about how HYPOTHETICALLY Future!Karkat can't reject him because he's not Eridan's Current!Karkat, he has never actually hit on Karkat in any quadrant, as far as we've seen. And I'm even willing to believe that he never has - when he met Karkat, his pale and pitch quadrants were filled, and he was always pining after Feferi in flushed; it probably never even crossed his mind to see Karkat as a viable dating partner, and I think he likes their unofficial moirallegiance friendship exactly the aay it is - when he thinks Karkat is hitting on him pitchwise, his reaction isn't "yes let's date," it's a surprised "whoa, coming on kinda strong, there."

And just. Just. The way that Karkat took Eridan's murder spree so fucking personally, especially compared to Gamzee in the same memo. You BACKSTABBER. I HATE you (not enough to not talk to you for an extended period of time but still). How COULD you. I thought you loved her...

Like. Man. I think it would require a third party to point it out in order to get them together - Karkat seems to be kind of embarrassed by how often he talks to Eridan (because it's, y'know, ERIDAN), and has convinced himself that Eridan is SUCH a pathetic dumbass that OF COURSE it would never work out between them (keep telling yourself that, buddy, you're the one who started thinking about that in a conversation where Eridan literally was not hitting on you), and Eridan is, uh, a dumbass.

But even that's kind of tricky, because Karkat's mixed signals make their friendship read as weirdly pitch-coded (I don't think you're normally supposed to threaten death upon your moirail and call them slurs), and also, nobody really wants to imagine Eridan being in a happy, loving relationship. You run into this problem sometimes even in real life.

But he's kind of basically in one?????

Literally, society if Eridan and Karkat made it official -

[tmnt-l0v3rrr]

Hello, my dear. 🥰

Been enjoying ur writing. 👀 Was reading ur yan bay don head canons and it mentioned Donnie essentially summoning Reader like they're a pet and tbh.... I'm like this irl. Idk. Scratches the brain right.

So I was wondering if you'd be willing to rottmnt yandere head canons where the figure out they can summon Reader like an animal? Like maybe they do it on accident/without thinking and they're like "oh... oh!" And it just works. Every. Damn. Time. Even if it's to the dismay of Reader.

🥂

Omg thanks for the request 😋

Yandere Donatello x Reader

Warnings!

Kidnapping, yandere content, human pet training, unhealthy relationships, forced love. Overall, dark content. Read at your own risk.

A/N sorry if this got off track I was hungry writing this XP (sorry if it's too short)

800 words

It was a nice afternoon (at least that's what time you think it is) in donnie's lab. He was working on something nice and easy. His brothers were out doing who knows what- But it was nice. Calm.

He had this nest of bedding under his desk for you, it was nice. Comfy too-

You were sitting there, drawing on some mandala coloring book he gave you with some nice markers Mikey had gifted the two of you.

You heard a small snap and whistle, rising from your position, standing in front of him. Wait- why'd you do that- before you could think too much Don was already talking to you.

“I was wondering if you would want to help make lunch today, I see you picking at stuff all the time. I think it would be good sensory input.” He says, sounding excited about trying to get you to do something. You sit there, thinking about your option like you had a choice.

He whistled at you, quickly getting your head to turn to him- wait… why’d you do that? Why are you answering like a pet? Have you really been here that long…? Time must fly down here, or maybe it’s the sheer amount of times he’s drugged you, or the sewer smells are getting to you.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” You weren't lying, doing something outside his lab or bed sounded really nice, maybe even seeing April or the two casey’s would be exciting, you don’t really see anyone but Donnie and his three brothers, oh and splinter, on a very, very rare basis.

“When do you want to make lunch?” you ask, looking back at him, he hums, finger on his chin. “Maybe after a few more lines of code, only a few more minutes” You go back to your coloring book, filling in the mandala in with a nice blue, followed by purples. The soft sounds of his keyboard and chair lulling you back into your daily daze.

The sound of soft strokes of the marker on your paper fill the labs walls along with donnie’s typing and music overflowing headphones. Once again he whistles at you, getting your attention every time. You’ve been here way too long. He looks down at you, donnie’s smile soft and adoring as always. “Ready sweetie?” You nod, having no reason to argue against it.

The two of you walk out of his lab, you slip on some purple slippers he has at his door for you sense the lair floor is cold and to be honest, dirty too. When you both enter the kitchen, music plays at a normal volume. You see Mikey making what you can only assume is for Raph by the size of it, he gives you both a sweet hello before returning to his cooking, humming along to a song.

Donnie walks over to a chest freezer they had recently bought and filled, they went through pretty fast, keeping in mind that they are mutants. Don grabbed a box of frozen orange chicken, one of his favorites.

He got out a sheet pan and some parchment paper. He whistled to you before asking you to set the oven to 350. You obliged, turning the knob to the temperature before turning back to him for more directions, once again acting like a trained dog. Ready for any commands. What a funny thing this has done to you. Donnie is much more lenient and calm with you now, the first few months were the longest and hardest, adjustment taking longer than Donatello hoped, but everything paid off.

This is proof, you don’t question him anymore, you always answered him and never gave him trouble. “How about you lay out the chicken on the sheet tray? Well I warm up the sauce.” You hum in agreement, grabbing the frozen bag of chicken, laying it out and waiting for the oven to beep, signifying it was done heating.

Donnie prepares the sauce, running it under warm water. He makes a sound with his lips, one you would use to call a dog. “Go into my lab and grab the hoodie off my chair please.” he says, never even raising his head to check that you left.

Off back into his lab, quickly grabbing the desired hoodie then starting to head back.

Why? Why were you doing this? Obeying his commands like a fucking pet-

Before you can dwell on it any longer you were already back in the kitchen, holding the hoodie out to him. “Oh, sweetie. It’s for you, I know it’s cold here.” he takes the sweater and puts it on you. There was no fighting it, or protest. You just let him. Like he had always wanted.

He finally has you how he needs you

[shadowuponstorm]

Mini Summers-Howlett

Reader just so happens to be Scott's younger sister, who came to the mansion the same year as him. Now, she assists Jean in the lab whenever she needs help. She's also pregnant from a one-night stand months ago, and when she least expected it, the father of her baby shows up after convincing herself she would never see him again.

"Still kicking up a storm, huh?" Jean asked as I laughed and told her the baby was moving around, "I can't wait to be an auntie."

"I'm sure Scott would be excited too if he would stop focusing on the fact I had a one-night stand with a random stranger," I told my future sister-in-law as I thought back to Scott's reaction before asking, "You know he's still asking me to tell him who the father is?"

"Yes, he's even asking me to telepathically find it by going through your head," Jean responds as I looked at her in disbelief before she reassured me she has never done such a thing to me without permission.

"Hey, we have two incomings," Scott's voice comes through the coms as I pick up and ask for information, "A young girl and a man."

"Better get ready," I told Jean so she could start getting the necessities out, "I'll go meet Storm and Scott at the entrance."

I headed upstairs to the entrance just in time to see Ororo walking in with the young girl sticking close to her. Scott came up behind them, and I stopped in my tracks when I saw who he was carrying in.

"Oh my god, act normal," I told myself as I regained my composure and mentioned to Scott that Jean was waiting for him, "Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's okay, still shaken up," Storm said as I notice the girl fidgeting with her hands, "She won't let me touch her."

"Her mutation must have something to do with that," I respond as I reach into my pockets to pull out some leather gloves before I walk up to the girl, "Here, put these on."

"I-I couldn't," The girl stammered when I told her I insisted before explaining the gloves were too small for me, "Thank you. I'm Marie. You can call me Rouge."

"My name is Y/N Summers," I introduced myself before mentioning Scott is my older brother, "And my powers regard manipulation."

Rogue then looks down at my baby bump to ask, "What's their power?"

"Oh, they don't have one yet, or there's the chance they won't have a mutation. If they do, they'll either inherit mine or have their own," I explained as Rogue nodded before Storm asked if she wanted to see where she'd be staying.

After Rogue and Storm were out of sight, I sighed before I glanced back to the lab's stairs, where I saw Scott coming up and asked him what happened.

"Sabretooth is what happened. Magneto must've known the girl was an important mutant," Scott said as I asked about the guy, "Knocked out, but it looks like he has regenerative healing, so he'll be fine."

"I'll head back down. You're on your way to Charles?" I respond as Scott nods to leave in the direction he's heading in before I went back downstairs.

I approached the entrance, I asked Jean what she had done so far, and she told me she was about to draw some blood. Suddenly, I heard a crash and jerked my head in the direction to see Jean in a headlock.

"Woah, hey! Calm down," I said before I walk forward as Jean shook her head for me to not come farther, "Let her go."

"Not until you tell me what's going on," Logan grunted out; I explained to him what happened out there and why he was here.

"Logan, let her go," I said as I saw his grip loosen on Jean and his face contorted to confusion before it morphed into realization, "Y/N?"

"Wait," Jean said, looking between me and Logan while trying to connect the dots, "Is he the guy?"

"You cannot tell Scott. He already is going to want to kill him for putting you in that position. What do you think he's going to do when he finds out his little sister had sex with the man he just saved," I told Jean before gesturing for her to read my mind, "He doesn't know I'm pregnant."

"Jean!" I hear Scott shouting as I look to see him running towards us. Is everything okay? I heard a crash, and—look who's awake."

"Yeah, he just woke up," Jean said quickly before reassuring Scott she was okay when Charles wheels up in the lab.

"What is this place?" Logan asked as I grabbed a sweatshirt and tossed it to him so he could cover up. Charles told him all about the X-Mansion and what it means for all of the mutants in this world.

"So, what's your mutation?" Scott asked as Logan showed off his claws, making me and Jean look at each other in shock.

"Come on, we'll leave the ladies alone," Charles said while Scott and Logan followed behind him.

"I'm so screwed," I whispered as I paced the floor, and Jean tried to calm me down, "Jean, I had sex with a guy who has claws, which look to be indestructible. Oh god, there's a chance my child is going to impale me before they're even born."

"No, no, don't think like that," Jean responds before reminding me there's still the chance of the baby having its own mutation.

"Yeah, you're right," I said as I sat and asked if she had found out what metal was in his bones before the look on her face told me what it was. "I'm right, aren't I? Shit."

A few days passed, and I spent most of those days trying to avoid Logan. I can't raise Scott's suspicions about him by speaking to him, and then there's the chance Scott will complete the puzzle about who the father of my baby is. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed something to eat before I heard a gruff voice say, "Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you," I said as I took another bite of the granola bar into my mouth to avoid saying another word to him.

"Oh really? It's nearing the end of the day, and I've rarely seen you," Logan responded before walking up to stand next to me with his arms crossed.

"I can't be seen talking to you, Logan. Scott is already so protective of me," I respond as I try to walk away before I feel my back hit the counter with Logan caging me in, "Logan, let me out."

"Tell me what I've done to you, and I will," Logan said as I tried to avert my eyes somewhere else so I didn't have to make eye contact.

"What the hell is going on here?" I hear Scott's voice come through before Logan is pulled and pushed to the other side of the kitchen.

"Nothing of your concerns, bub," Logan responds as Scott scoffs and tells him, "Oh yeah? It looks like you were caging my sister against the counter and acting like you know-"

"No, no, don't connect the dots," I mentally begged as Scott's face morphed into anger, "Fuck."

"You motherfucker!" Scott shouted as he threw a punch in Logan's face, making me gasp, "My little sister, really?"

"Scott, get off of him!" I yelled before calling out for Jean, Storm, or anyone listening. Students started gathering in the doorway.

"Get off of me," Logan grunted as he pushed Scott off into the opposing wall, and I took that chance to get in between them, putting my hands on Scott's chest to keep him back, "What's your problem with me?"

"My problem with you is my little sister is pregnant because of you!" Scott shouted while he fights against my hands to go at Logan again.

"Scott!" I yelled in his face to grab his attention, "Logan didn't know."

"Wait, what?" Scott asked, his face turning pale, before I let my hands off before I rushed out of the kitchen to head to my bedroom.

I felt the tears start falling while I sat against the wall, "Stupid hormones!" I thought to myself as I took deep breaths to calm myself. A knock came on the door, and I shouted at Scott to leave me alone for a minute.

"It's not Scott," I hear Logan say through the door, "It's true then, you're pregnant because of me."

"Yes, I would've told you, but I didn't have a way to contact you since you were always moving," I said as Logan asked if he could come in, to which I opened the door in response, "I'm so sorry that all happened."

"Not your fault," Logan said, taking a seat in front of me, "You were right about Scott being overprotective, though."

I laughed before reminding him I had warned him; he just stayed for the result. I sighed before asking Logan, "Do you want to know the gender?"

"If you don't mind," Logan said as I told him the baby was a boy, which made him smile, "Also if it's okay, I want to be there for you and him. I don't want to miss anything else."

"I would love that," I respond as Logan pulls me into his arms before kissing me on the top of my head, “Are you nervous about becoming a parent all of a sudden?"

"Of course, but I know we'll have an army of mutants to support us through the journey," Logan respond as I smile and mentioned a lot of them are going to be battling for the title of favorite honorary aunt or uncle.

[acutiewithagun]

Okay :)

How about platonic yan rottmnt where the turtles have all become delusional and believe m/c is their sibling, even though m/c is a human. I’d imagine them using the excuse of m/c ‘being mutated wrong in Draxum’s lab’ to back their point up and not accepting anything that disproves their delusions. Oh yeah, and they kidnap m/c. Could you make this request a long one, too?

(Oh buddy, you have no idea what you've done.)

Blood isn't skin deep

You pulled your knees to your chest as you glared at the wall beside you. It wasn't fair, where did everything go wrong!? You didn't get to expand upon that thought when Mikey happily barged into the room. "Hey sib, brought you lunch, Leo and Raph were talking about doing a family day soon." You refused to look away from the blank wall. But you heard him place something in front of you, just out of reach. "Any ideas on what you wanna do? I'll send a message if you want me to." Once this act could have fooled you, but not after so long. The room was silent as neither of you talked.

It was deafening with the tension. You wanted nothing more than to bolt out of the cursed room and make your way to freedom. But knowing these mutants you thought were your friends, someone or something will stop you the moment you try.

"I'm not your sibling, I have completely different parents than you. Heck, I'm human for crying out loud. There isn't any way I could be related to any of you." Mikey looked at you with an understanding grin and laughed. "Of course you're my sibling, you just aren't remembering correctly." You glared at him and mentally kicked yourself for the way you were acting. It has been months like this, the denial and attempted manipulation.

"No, I remember everything correctly. You are just refusing to admit it. You were a great friend, why did these delusions have to change that?" You were pleading at this point as you stretched over and pushed the tray of food further out of reach. He frowned and pushed the food back towards you. "Those people just found you after the explosion. You were then raised as human, most likely by a cloaking spell or something. But Donnie is working hard to change you back to normal."

You fisted the fabric of your shirt and turned away from Mikey. "Don't bother, I was born human, I'll stay human." Mikey seemed a bit frustrated he wasn't getting through to you as he abruptly stood up. "No you weren't, but I should get going. Leo will come by later to check up on you. Oh, and please eat the food I brought you, I wouldn't want you to be hungry." He gave your head a few light pats before walking out of the room.

You eyed the food, then the door. It was unlocked, you knew it was. They left it unlocked to give their delusions of you willingly being there some more reassurance. But the moment you tried to leave without any of the turtle brothers, a mechanical arm would materialize and force you back.

There was a button on the wall by the door you could press if you needed to use the bathroom and it would allow you out for exactly ten minutes. But if you weren't back in the room when that time was up, all four nights would hunt you down and bring you back.

You eyed the food again and pushed it away with your foot. You then went back to staring at that blank wall while coming up with escape plans. They took the clock out of the room after three months because they found out you would count how many days you were stuck there. Unpleased with how it seemed you were counting the days until you could leave, they took away the only source of knowledge of time.

Unfortunately for them, you kept track of days by the cycle of food brought to you. One of the best escape plans you had currently would only work if you could convince at least one of them you weren't their sibling. But they all fed into each other's delusions, so fat chance.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" You flinched from the sudden pur to your ear, which in turn, earns a laugh from the red eared slider. "Chill, just me, your most amazing brother in the world." You scoff and bat a hand at him, which he easily dodged. "Not my brother, so stop doing that."

He let out a soft chuckle and rubbed your head with a hand as he towered over your sitting form. "Still can't accept the truth? You became our sibling the moment we all got mutated. You were just too young to remember and got snatched up by those awful people." You glare at the turtle and stand up. "No, I was your fake sibling the day you decided it was so. I seriously have all the legal documents to prove I'm not your sibling."

He clicked his tongue with a smirk. "All forged, Donnie said so." "Speaking of which is here with news for the family. Alas, our precious sibling will have to stay here." You both turn towards the door and spot Donnie. He gestures for Leo to leave, which the slider complies with.

The door shuts behind them and you sit back on the floor nervously. The last time Donnie had news for the family, all the doors had new, special locks that everyone but you knew how to unlock.

Your stomach growled with hunger as your eyes land on the now cold food. Hunger strikes didn't work, but you could normally get away with not eating one meal a day. Just something about the food threw you off, you figured Mikey might have done something to it.

After a few minutes of just sitting around Raph entered the room with his classic soft, toothy smile. "Heya bud, Don needs ya to go to his lab, want me to walk you there?" No matter how many times he acted like he was giving a suggestion, you knew it was an order. So you nodded and got up, walking over to the door where he stood. "You didn't eat your lunch."

He escorts you out of the room and you both start walking together. "Wasn't hungry." He gave a worried nod as he put his hand on your back to get you to hurry your speed. "Well make sure to eat next time, wouldn't want ya to get sick."

Now it was your turn to nod as the pair of you entered Donnie's lab. You notice the genius at a table, two jars sat on it as he hovered over them. You looked up at Ralph as he gave you a reassuring grin and pushed you further in. "Hey Donnie, I brought em', just like you asked."

You watched as the shift shell straightened up quickly and smiled in your direction. "Absolutely splendid, if you could Raphala, assist them in sitting in that chair." He pointed to a chair beside the table as Raph nodded tightly.

"What's going on?" Your nervousness started rising as you were pushed over to where Donnie had instructed his brother to bring you. "Oh, nothing too big, we are just solidifying our bond as siblings. It's no big deal." You were sat on the chair as Raph held onto your shoulders. "Solidify or bond as siblings? We aren't related in any way, I'm human, you're mutant ninja turtles."

"Scoff, that's why this is necessary. We are just going to help your true form to return." Donnie grabbed one of the jars and looked at it. Raph smiled as his brother started rambling about the process. "You can leave Raph, it makes the surprise better." With a nod Raph leaves the room as Donnie hands you the jar with a turtle inside.

He hummed and walked back over to the table. "Do me a favor and hold that turtle." You hesitantly and carefully hold the adorable turtle out of the jar. "What is going on?" He looked at you over his shoulder as he grabbed the second jar.

"Well according to my calculations this would be the most effective way to go about this operation. It's the safest and least painful way, not to say it isn't painful." He walked behind you as you held the turtle cautiously. "Operation? What is going to happen? And what do you mean painful?"

Donnie sighed and you could hear a kid being removed from the jar he was holding. "Well you didn't eat the food dear Mikey made, so unfortunately for you, this will hurt quite a bit."

"But not to worry, soon you won't ever have to go back to your old life. And precautions will be lighter." You felt a jab of something sharp on your neck as you writhed in pain. He took the turtle from your hands as you released it from your grasp.

You fell to the floor in utter pain and agony as he gently caressed your head with his mechanical arms that stemmed from his battle shell. "Just like us once again, how exciting for you."

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug watches 'The Bad Batch': 'The Harbinger'

Yup, as we all know, Doug unlocked a HUGE character with Asajj Ventress, who is apparently an embittered ex-Navy wife lurking somewhere in the depths of the Florida Panhandle and not a reborn Jedi goth chick.

CW: You will learn more about this poor ex wife of John then you will ever deem fit. Be warned.

All images taken from here: https://www.cap-that.com/starwars/the-bad-batch/309

-----------------------------

Episode 9, “John’s-Ex-Wife: The Revenge”

Daddy Warcrimes does what a daddy in need of a mommy will do, and is going to pick up women by the dockside. Wonder if they take cash or not. 

And here’s Julio to remind him to wrap it before he snaps it, ya know? Good bro, when has Julio done anything wrong, love him. Maybe Julio laid his pipe in Space Louisiana last week, who knows if the mantis had a sister who had bills to pay and Terrebonne Parish don’t have a lot of jobs but has a lot of lonely people and, where were we? 

Why is it all foggy here now? We in Maine now? 

Well, Mutant Jimmers is doing work, as the kids say now, tracking down the junkies hiding out in the caves. I can’t blame Mutant Jimmers or the junkies, they gotta do their smack and doing it in the park ain’t good. I wonder who makes the meth on the island? It ain’t Church Lady, she’s too busy working and having fun in the snow with her beau, Sassy-Park-Ranger*.

Awwww shit it’s not space junkies, it’s worse! It’s JOHN’S-EX-WIFE! Of course she’s hiding her Ford pickup in a cave, the other one got booted outside of Pensacola after she banged the neighborhood granddad and he called the cops after she stole his TV. 

(the last shot John saw before he left for the rig that one time)

God damn, she’s wearing the same outfit you wear to work, Meat Muffin! Do you think she writes papers and yells at people on the phone like you do too?

Well John’s-Ex-Wife hasn’t changed, first thing she starts doing is fighting and bitching at everyone for not paying their bills on time. I hated that damn woman but I’ll say this much, she was organized. But that’s how the Devil is. Not organized to not cheat on John with every sailor in Pensacola and the neighborhood granddad but nobody’s perfect I guess. 

Well, she’s going to test Little Orphan Blondie by making her do yoga on the beach while her brothers watch. Doing dumb shit in public to be different, yup, that’s John’s-Ex-Wife for you. Surprised Daddy Warcrimes hasn’t capped her and her bleached hair yet. 

Oh! Now she sent Little Orphan Blondie on an errand leaving the boys behind in a dark room with her. How much do you wanna bet there’s gonna be a train and Thomas the Tank Engine ain’t involved? God, it was a miracle John never ended up with the clap. His ex wife really was the bike of Escambia County. 

And there’s a fight. Woo! John’s-Ex-Wife’s history as a bartender is coming on through! Girlfriend can handle her own–and here’s the lightsaber! WOAH! I don’t want her to kick my boy’s butts but damn girl, git ‘er done! 

Also why don’t they all just pile on her, why are they waiting, this ain’t ballroom dancing boys! Toaster Strudel and Rex would NEVER.  

Where IS TOASTER STRUDEL AND REX?!?!?!

Well, Little Orphan Blondie’s back and seems to like John’s-Ex-Wife for some reason. God damn it, Little Orphan Blondie, you’re a rube and I ain’t happy about it. At least Church Lady got you sushi and hit on your idiot brother who didn’t deserve her. 

Little Orphan Blondie’s no Jedi, whatever. But nothing brings the family together like deep sea fishing, even more then going off into the snow and punching each other in front of the trailer! 

Off John’s-Ex-Wife and Little Orphan Blondie go while the dads do a lil bit of peepin. Except Daddy Warcrimes who knows a thing or two and keeps a gun tailed her. Yeah, Daddy Warcrimes! 

Oh! What’s this? Ain’t this the shit from Aquaman? Are they gonna get jumped by sea aliens until Aquaman throws flashlights at them?** 

Nope! It’s that thing from Pirates of the Caribbean! Where’s Johnny Depp and his dreadlocks?! They’re firing up the HMS Search Warrant to do a rescue and…woah. Woah. What’s Johns-Ex-Wife doing here? The force? She can do all that shit but she can’t keep her marriage, oh Johns-Ex-Wife.  

Look at Daddy Warcrimes being a gentleman and helping the ladies onto their stolen work truck. Most ladies get upset when a creepy old man with a gun hoists them into a windowless van but not Johns-Ex-Wife. Trust me. 

Johns-Ex-Wife warns them and then flings off, as she is wont to do. Why do I feel the next episode is going to be the DEA raiding Space Florida? I bet she’s a snitch for the government, calling it now!

*=Doug will never get off the Phee/Mayday train. I tried. I failed. I’m sorry, internet. 

**=I THINK Doug means the Trench from the movie. The Trench Scene | Aquaman [4k, IMAX] - YouTube

For my Doug fans! @eyecandyeoz @cdblake1565 @sued134 @megmca @skellymom @yeehawgeek @amalthiaph and anyone else!

[boxfullaturtles]

Once upon a time, I had an idea for a Rise x FFXV fic. I'm not going to write it because I'm not THAT crazy, but here's a bit I wrote for it at the time because I still think about it sometimes.

Mostly for the silly hahas and the angst and how now everyone has to ride chocobos because the party no longer fits in the car lol.

Anyway, here's this. Uh, lead up? Someone was stealing supplies from the campsites while the Chocobros were out. Manage to track the thief down and it's two turtles? And one of them's really hurt? Would it be a lie to say stranger things have happened to these guys?

-----------

“So, what are you guys anyway?” Prompto asks the question through a mouthful of meat, looking Mikey up and down with unashamed curiosity.

“Dude, really?” Noct elbows Prompto in the ribs, almost tipping him over, “They’re obviously turtles.”

“Hey!” Prompto aims a sloppy kick at Noct, missing by a mile, “I meant why are they turtles walking on two legs and talking!”

Ignis loudly clears his throat when Noct and Prompto start kicking at each other. They immediately settle down and tuck back into their dinner.

Mikey hides a laugh as he answers, “Weelllll, we’re mutants! We used to be regular turtles, but then we got combined with some ooze and human DNA and BAM! Instant mutant turtle, baby!” He shrugs at the blank looks he gets from the four humans, “It’s kind of a long story. And complicated.”

When he doesn’t continue, Prompto raises his eyebrows expectantly. But Mikey just takes another bite of food and doesn’t elaborate. Noct trades a glance with Gladio and then with Ignis. The crackling of the campfire fills the silence.

“You mentioned earlier,” Ignis finally tip-toes carefully into the awkward space, “That you believe you and your brother to be...lost?”

“Brothers,” Mikey corrects and it’s the most solemn he’s sounded all day. He lowers his fork so it rests absently on the edge of his plate, staring into the fire, “There’s four of us. Me, Leo and Donnie, and our big brother Raph. I don’t...I don’t know how we got here. It’s all messed up in my head, just confusion and light and…” He takes a deep breath, “I don’t know what happened. I just remember trying to grab onto my brothers but we all got ripped away from each other and then,” He shrugs absently, gaze distant, “I dunno, I woke up somewhere I didn’t know. Wandered around until I managed to find Leo.”

“Leo, he say how he got hurt?” Gladio asks, “It looks like a real nasty voretooth bite but—”

“Yeah, and how come you guys were in a cave instead of a Haven?” Prompto interrupts, “Can’t believe you weren’t attacked this whole time!”

Mikey blinks, “A Haven? What’s a Haven?”

“This is a Haven,” Ignis explains over Noct hissing things at Prompto, “They are safe places that protect travelers from the dangers of the night. Their blessing keeps evil at bay.”

“Oh,” Mikey looks down at the gently glowing runes beneath his feet. It’s darker now, the only remains of the sun a pale red stripe along the horizon, and they blue glow is brighter, clearer, “Huh.”

He’d felt something whenever he set foot on the runes, some kind of tingling warmth washing over him like a gentle tide. But he’d never lingered long enough to chase the feeling or find its source. He’s about to reach out to it with his Ninpō, just to see what would happen, when there comes a sound from the darkness beyond the Haven.

Something flares in the night, darker than black, a frothing void of pitch and foul tar. It yawns open, boiling at the edges as the world crumples to make way for it, and a grotesque creature unfolds from within it, spilling out into the night. It’s yards away, barely visible, but Mikey can just make out the writhing tentacles from the starlight alone.

His throat closes and he’s on his feet, his nunchaku in his hands. A terrified, dizzying nausea is making his gut churn, heart racing so hard its like it’s trying to tear from his chest. He swear he can feel the thing’s eyes on him in the dark, just at the edge of where the firelight can reach. Rage and terror boil inside him, his mind racing. Can he protect everyone here? Can he keep Leo safe? He doesn’t see a metal suit so maybe—

A hand presses on his shell and Mikey starts badly, nearly swinging his nunchaku up to hit whoever touched him.

Ignis doesn’t even flinch at Mikey’s aborted movement, just keeps a calm expression, patient as he looks out into the dark, “A mindflayer. Rather nasty foe and one I would not recommend facing alone.” He turns back to Mikey, keeping a steady hand on the curve of Mikey’s shell, “It’s quite all right, Michelangelo, daemons cannot come near Havens. As I said, they are warded against evil. For one to spawn so close is unusual, but it won’t be able to get any closer. There, see,” Ignis nods his head as indication, “It’s already drifting away.”

Mikey glances from Ignis back to the thing that had crawled into existence—the mindflayer. It’s no longer facing them, already disappearing into the shadows of the trees and fading out of sight. Mikey tries to steady his shaking breath and lets his arms fall to his sides, ends of his weapons knocking against his legs.

They’re safe here. They’re really, actually safe.

[britt-kageryuu]

It's apparently a slow day at the clinic today, because Leo is streaming from the clinic front desk with the AR setup. His model is in blue scrubs, a lab coat, his mask with Trans tails, and blue crocs with pride jibbitz.

He was just chatting to the audience while organizing the comic books on the small shelf on top of a couple small filing cabinets.

"Every now and then I wonder how much sleep Dee gets. Like sure he's between big projects for GB so that's good, but he's working on this game, and another odd project that I thought was abandoned." Leo then grabs a thicker graphic novel from the shelf. "Then the other day Dee comes into my room looking kinda crazy, saying he found our long lost sister and handed me another book with a mutant turtle with a yellow bandana!"

He shows the cover that has a turtle with a yellow bandana looking over her shoulder with claw blades on her hands. It reads Jennika the Fifth Turtle.

"I haven't read it yet, which is why it's here, but I'm seriously starting to wonder were these books are coming from. But I did promise not to question it, if only for my sanity." Leo pauses and looks to the side while putting the book on top of the shelf, where the entrance of the clinic might be. "Oh hey, you're looking amazing! Here for your prescription refill? Just a sec."

Leo walks around the camera, and muting his mic. He didn't put the stream into a standby, so once again the client is apparently curious about the camera.

The person tries to lean into frame, only to have a basic orange bipedal cat model in a white tshirt and black pants pops into frame on top of the person. Chat is kinda confused, but find it funny that there is a fail safe for anyone walking into frame.

The person is trying to say something, obvious by the mouth moving, but the camera doesn't have a microphone on it. They then go a bit stiff and sidestep out of frame as Leo walks back into frame with an amused look on his face. He turns his mic back on.

"Well I haven't learned my lesson about streaming from here, but oh well." He hands the client a small shopping/gift bag with cartoon turtles on it. "It's okay, I need to learn not to do this. And I probably will do this again anyway. Here's your prescription. Have a lovely day~"

After a few seconds he turns back to the camera, and lets out a sigh. "Yeah, I will definitely need to remember to switch over to a BRB screen, but I will probably keep forgetting, because I will keep getting distracted."

A donation notice goes off with Rivers voice reading, "Why did you give them a gift bag for their prescription? Also the cat model was cute."

"Oh the bags? Yeah we give those as a more discreet way for our clients to carry out their stuff. There are even other sizes, and materials." He grabs a canvas bag from beside the camera that has rainbow sea turtles swimming across it. "It's included in the price of whatever you need to carry. Whether it's medical related or you want to buy some of the tea or coffee. Yeah we sell the coffee in the clinic, but we keep track of who can and can't have which blends. Since some of the caffeine levels are not good for some people."

Leo puts the bag back, and takes a drink of his tea from a Jupiter Jim tumbler, and brings the book back down.

"Well, going back to that comic, I think this isn't actually our sister, just some random turtle mutant, or something. I'm not gonna read this on stream, so stop asking." Leo says as he goes back to organizing the bookshelf. "As for the cat model, yeah Dee set it up incase someone walks into our AR streams. Like the time Red was babysitting and Dee left the AR stream on."

He doesn't seem to like how he's organized it so he keeps redoing it, but the audience are still have fun listening to his rambling while he decides how he wanted to have the books organized.

-------------------

Masterpost

[rotiaftermath]

can i request jo & brick? their rivalry is so fun

That post was mostly to gauge interest however. This does answer my question and you’re right it is fun so here we go

The day’s challenge was over, so Jo did the same thing she always did after a challenge: go for an afternoon run. It was one of her favorite parts of the day, actually, but today she sped away more agitated than usual. The challenge sucked, some stupid fashion bullshit followed by some rescue mission that, admittedly, was more her style.

Until stupid Mike (Chester? She didn’t keep track of his dumb characters. Except Svetlana. She actually kind of liked that one) gave her that god awful makeup job. Jokes on her for wanting to feel pretty, she guessed. She clenched her fists and ran faster, eager to get her mind off of it. But that wasn’t the only reason for her distress.

“Good afternoon, Jo!” Brick gave her a salute as she slowed down to meet him.

“At ease, corporal pants wetter,” Jo replied, smirking when he complied, “ready for me to beat you again?”

Brick grinned, “I think you’ll be surprised, ma’am. I’ve been closing the gap between us lately.”

Jo rolled her eyes, playfully, “I’d like to see you try.”

Brick raised a brow — or half his unibrow, rather, “Isn’t that why we’re having a race?”

“Ha! Fair enough!” Jo guffawed, getting into a starting position, “But get ready to eat my dust!”

Brick followed suit, smirking, “Not if you eat mine, first.” He glanced at her, “Ready?”

Jo took off without another word, Brick right behind her. They ran around the camp, through the trees and back again, making laps around the area without going too far into the mutant filled forest. Jo had gotten a good start on Brick, creating and widening the gap between them for the first lap, but with each subsequent lap Brick was managing to catch up, slowly but steadily closing it as they continued to race. They were neck and neck as they rounded the last curve, Jo gritting her teeth and Brick furrowing his brow in determination as they did one final kick to the finish. In the end the one who made it back first was…

Jo cackled as she stepped back into camp just a second before Brick did. “I win!” She said, between pants, “you’re still… a hundred years… too early… to beat me.”

Brick put his hands on his knees as he entered after her, “You sure… did… but I… got close.” He stood up as he finished catching his breath, holding his hand out, “It was a good race, Jo.”

Jo rolled her eyes, but shook his hand, anyway. It could be the last time, after all. “Yeah, yeah. Nice racing you one last time.”

Brick frowned, “What do you mean?”

Jo frowned, “Aren’t you scared of getting voted out?”

Brick chuckled, “Actually, I think I’m safe. Scott and Lightning were talking about voting for Sam, and I agreed.”

Jo blinked, “Oh. Huh.” Apparently she completely misread that situation. But she couldn’t deny feeling relieved that Brick would still be in the game. Not that she’d admit it out loud.

Brick nodded, “Sam performed admirably during the challenge, but unfortunately it wasn’t enough. It was also his advice that caused the Sasquatchanawka to kidnap Lindsay to begin with.” He rubbed his chin in thought, “Although I was the one who ultimately chose the clothing, so I can’t deny there’s still a possibility of me going out.”

Jo frowned, “Just stick to the plan. They’d have to be idiots to vote you out.”

Brick frowned, “I guess. Wait...” He looked at Jo, unable to stop himself from smiling, “Were you… worried about me?”

Jo scoffed, “No. I just didn’t want to lose a rival. Who else would I compete against? Lightning?”

Brick smiled at her, “Well, you don’t need to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere until I beat you.”

Jo smirked, “Then I guess you’re staying for a long time.”

[yanderes-galore]

Yeah, sure! Sorry this took so long, TMNT requests have been hard to put out right now. Aged up as usual. Using my prompts.

This ended up being some sort of Serial Killer AU! Leonardo? I wanted to write something more twisted, so.... My scenarios were lacking a bit of murder.

Yandere! Leonardo (2012) Prompts 4, 12, 14

Pairing: Romantic

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it."

"You were never meant to see that! Oh, what have I done...."

"It's too dangerous in the world. You need me, you should know that!"

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Murder, Blood, Kidnapping, Stalking, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Delusional behavior, Forced kiss, Forced relationship

Leonardo only ever wanted to protect those he loves. He's the most mature of his brothers, always has been. He's a leader... he's meant to be perfect in everything he does.

In reality, he isn't perfect. He knows this... and it's something he works to fix. Leo feels he has to do whatever he can to protect the people.

Which is why when it comes to you, he learns something else.

Morality is subjective... as long as he keeps you safe then he's happy.

He knows his brothers and Splinter would call him dishonorable for even thinking such a thing. Stalking your every move from the shadows is creepy. Even suggesting murder to take down those he feels are threats around you is no better than his enemy, Shredder.

Leonardo used to be so obsessive over honor and doing the right thing. Really, what is the right thing? It depends on the person.

Leo used to be so ashamed when he first... killed someone. He had seen them plotting against you, he knew they were going to hurt you. In an attempt to protect you... he had tracked them down. It wasn't meant to end in their death... both he and them both panicked!

Although... the fact he got away with it?

It convinced him that this was an okay way to keep you safe.

Leo then kept his pattern going. He'd stalk you late at night when you weren't around him. Then, when he felt he had to, he was comfortable with using his swords to cause fatal damage.

Murder no longer felt taboo to him. Now it felt like a necessary step to take to keep the one he loves most safe. The others may not agree...

But he isn't like them anymore.

He's a monster of his own breed now.

Blood coating his skin washed off in water. Their corpses were easy to pin the blame on another party or hide. Leonardo wasn't a heroic mutant anymore...

He was a serial killer.

When you caught him, only then did he think of his actions. Even then, it was brief. He's accepted what he is....

"You were never meant to see that! Oh, what have I done...."

At first he exhibited genuine concern. His pattern is disrupted and now you know what he does. However, you don't know why he does it....

So, he explains it.

He explains that the reason he's covered in blood, standing over a corpse, is all because of you.

You make him go insane.

Your fear was expected. He also knew all he's done for the past few months would be meaningless if he didn't do something with you now. Which is what made Leo take you with him.

Bringing you home would cause suspicion. You were still kept in the sewer but he made a hideout where only you and him may reside. Leonardo wasn't even your friend anymore.

Whenever you looked at him... you saw a few things;

A murderer...

A monster...

Your kidnapper....

Leonardo was a very dedicated killer, however.

"It's too dangerous in the world. You need me, you should know that!"

His mind still fixates in your safety. He's so delusional that he preaches about keeping you under his care. He acts like his company provides your warmth and love.

It doesn't.

It never will after what he's done.

"I... I only killed all those people to keep you safe!"

"They were my friends!"

"You don't know that!"

"You didn't know that they were enemies, either!"

Leonardo cleans off his swords, tossing them aside.

"Maybe not..." He admits before looking at you. "But I am the only one you can trust in such a... dirtied world."

"Really? If this world really is as bad as you make it sound... you're the most rotten one within it."

Leonardo narrows his eyes before laughing. His laugh is empty of joy... like you broke him. Then he turns fully to you and walks towards you.

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it."

He cups your face despite your struggling. His grin is filled with delusional joy. He's just happy to have you in his arms no matter the circumstances.

"Even if you want to insult my heart and say I'm wrong... I don't mind. I want to hear you talk, I want your attention on me. I may be a killer... my swords coated in the blood of many..."

He leans closer, squishing your face.

"But my heart beats for you and you alone. Nothing will take you away from me...."

He kisses you softly before pulling away. You recoil in disgust but Leo holds your head still. He looks so out of it and mumbles something under his breath, yet you catch it barely.

"Nothing in this world can harm you if I'm the biggest threat...."

[therand0mwriter]

Universe-Artemisia

ROTTMNT Leo x mutant!female!reader

💙🐢💙

"𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞."

💙🐢💙

[Unedited]

*3rd Person POV*

"Woo-hoo!"

"Oh, yeah!"

"Cowabunga!"

"Ridin' like a boss!"

"Apriiiiil O'Neil!"

Four mutant turtle brothers and their human friend all enthusiastically shouted, skating into an abandoned skate park. The turtle in red, Raphael, was on a red bike, the turtles donning orange and blue, Michaelangelo and Leonardo, were on their respective color skateboards. The turtle wearing purple, Donatello, was riding a high-tech purple hover bike, and the human girl, April, was on a yellow scooter.

Leo sighs in content, "You know, it's nights like these you gotta really cherish. No criminals, bad guys, just a quiet and peaceful night!" Mikey also sighs in content, "Yeah..." "It's nice to finally catch a break from breaking all those villains! HAHA!" April quipped, doing a flip on her scooter.

"Yeah... it's too quiet." Raph said suspiciously, looking around. "Don't jinx us." Donnie stated, relaxing on his hover bike. Immediately after Donnie finished his sentence, a sci-fi sound caught their attention. All of the teens turn their heads to see a large triangle, different shades of fuchsia swirling around in it.

"Uh... did anyone order an ominous triangle?" Leo unsurely said, looking to his brothers. "Be careful, guys! We don't know who or what will come out of there!" Raph said, his eyebrows furrowing. Donnie scanned the triangle, "Hm... it looks to be a portal, but I can't tell from where." "Should we... go in?" Mikey questioned. "What?! No!" Raph shouts. "So do we just... leave it here?" Leo asked, turning to his red masked brother.

After Leo finished his sentence, a loud explosion came from the portal, making the teens jump and shout in fright. A mass flew out of the, now smoking, portal, landing right in front of the spooked teens. The portal then vanished, but the mass stayed on the ground, motionless.

"Uh, okay..."

Donnie scanned the mass, "Guys, whatever that is, it's alive, there's a heartbeat." They all started to cautiously approached the being, and Donnie poked it with his staff once they were close enough. The being didn't react, still unconscious. "Should we leave it?" April asked. "Hm... I'm not sure." Raph said, turning his back to the being, everyone following his lead. Everyone except Leo, he kept his eyes on the being while his family discussed what they should do.

Leo took in the being, realizing it's back is facing him. 'Black bandana thats tied with a (braid/bow), (light/dark) green skin and... a shell? What the?' Leo saw that the being had weapons on them, two hand-held daggers on their hips and a katana on their back. Because the being was armed, he slowly got down onto his knees and gently placed his hand on the beings shoulder, slowly turning them to face him.

His breath caught in his throat.

The being he had turned was a girl, just like him. She was around his age, a mutant and seemed to be a turtle. The only difference was her hands, five fingers like a human. Leo assumed she also had feet like a human, black flats were covering her feet, the top of her foot was exposed, showing her (light/dark) green skin.

The girl was beaten up, bruises, cuts and dirt covered her entire body. 'She must have been in a fight wherever she came from.' Leo thought, still observing the girls' features. The blue masked turtle gently placed his hand on her cheek, but jumped when she let out a small groan of pain. Leo jumped again when he heard Raph shout, "Leo! What are you doing?! Get away from it!"

"You guys! Look!" Leo moved aside to reveal the girl to them. Raph, Donnie, Mikey and April all simultaneously let out a 'woah' at the sight of the girl. "She's hurt, we have to help her." Leo said, about to pick up the girl. Raph grabbed Leo's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks, "Wait a second, Leo. We don't know her, she could be dangerous!" Leo's eyebrows furrowed, "We won't know if she's a friend or a foe if we let her die! She's unconscious right now, so she's not a threat, and once we get her to the lair to heal, we'll restrain her just in case!"

Everyone's eyes were wide at Leo's outburst and desperation to help the girl. Raph was quiet for a moment, thinking it over. He finally sighed, "Alright, let's take her." Leo's facial features brightened, "Thanks, Raph."

Leo stooped down to pick up the girl by her shoulders and knees, but before he could even lift her up an inch off of the ground, her eyes shot open. Everything that happened afterwards was a blur to everyone... literally. Leo was about to pick up the unconscious girl from the ground and in the blink of an eye, she was conscious and straddling him, holding a sharp metal hairpin to his throat.

[A/N: Image does not belong to me.]

Her breathing was ragged, anyone watching could tell she was on the verge of blacking out again. Leo watched her with wide eyes, frozen in place as she started to interrorgate him. "Who are you?! What do you want with-! Wait... Leo?" "Uh... have we met before?" Leo questions when he finds his voice again. Before anything could be said or asked, the girl went limp again, falling on top of Leo.

It was quiet as everyone processed what just transpired. "What the heck just happened?" April mumbled. "That's what I want to know," Donnie added.

Leo sat up, brining the girl up with him, "How did she know my name?" "I'm not sure, but we should get back to the lair to help her, her vitals are getting weaker." Donnie responded, clicking away on his arm piece. Leo nodded and stood up with the girl, adjusting her in his grip.

"Well, I gotta head home. Let me know how things go with her, good luck!" April said, taking her scooter and zooming away. "See ya, April!" The four brothers called off after her, grabbing their bikes and skateboards and making their way down to the lair.

*Time Skip*

Donnie had set the girl up in his lab, she was on a cot with wires attached to her, keeping track of her heartbeat and keeping her hydrated. He had also cleaned her wounds and bandaged them. At one point, Donnie had to shoo his brothers out of his lab because they were practically breathing down his neck. Once he was done taking care of the girl, he let them back in. They all decided that at least one of them should be present with her at all times, just in case she wakes up and breaks out of her handcuffs that Donnie attached to a nearby table. They took shifts watching her, first Raph, Leo, Mikey then Donnie.

Almost 4 hours have passed and the girl has yet to wake up again. It was Donnie's turn to watch her and he was having trouble staying awake. He looks to the sleeping girl, 'She's not going anywhere.' He thought, leaving the lab to go get a cup of coffee.

On his way back, he met up with Leo, who was now panicking. "Donnie! What are you doing out here?! You should be watching the girl!" Leo shouted. "Relax, Leo. She's chained up and still unconscious, see?" Donnie said, gesturing to the cot... that was empty.

The two brothers shriek in fear, hugging each other, "Where did she go?!" They shrieked again when a metal pin lodged itself into the wall next to their head. They look to see the girl hadn't wandered too far, she was still in the lab and struggling to stand.

She had her another hairpin in her hand, pointing it at them as her other hand was clutching her side. "Stay back!" She firmly shouted, eyes sharp. "I thought we took her pins! How did she get more pins?!" Donnie mumble shouted at himself, referring to how they confiscated the girls other weapons.

Leo, on the other hand, became mesmerized by the girl. He took in every detail about her, sharp (e/c) that gleamed, clear (light/dark) green skin, (thin/plump) lips that complimented her snarl that was currently directed at him, every freckle coating her skin, and the way her bandana hugged her face with the (bow/braid) peaking out from behind her... his heartbeat picked up its pace. 'Is this love at first sight?' He thought to himself, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach.

"Leo!" Donnies whisper shout snapped Leo out of his trance, "What should we do?!" Leo cleared his throat and put his hands up and softly said, "Hey, we're not here to hurt you." The girls glare hardened, "Then why did you handcuff me?!" "We didn't know if you were a threat to us, it was just a precaution." Leo explained.

The girl was quiet for a bit, then she pointed to Donnie, "You! What did you do to me while I was out?" "Uh, I just cleaned your wounds, bandaged them and gave you an IV drip." Donnie recalled. "That's all?" She questioned. "That's all," The purple masked turtle confirmed. She was quiet again, her eyes darting between the two brothers. Finally, she sighed and lowered her arm with the sharp pin.

"Where are the other two? You'll want everyone here for what I'm about to say." She asked, taking a seat on the cot. The brothers were confused, but nonetheless called Raph and Mikey up.

"Woah! She's up!" Mikey observed, offering her a smile, "How are you feeling?" She gave a small grin in return, "Physically? I'm feeling better."

"Hey," Leo started, catching everyone's attention. "I'm sorry to bombard you with questions when you just woke up but... how did you know my name?" The girl paused, thinking back to her previous memories, "So, I was right. You're Leonardo." All of the brothers eyes widened and Leo nodded. The girl then turned to raph, "And you're Raphael." She turned to Mikey, "Michaelangelo." She turned to Donnie, "And Donatello. You four are mutant turtle brothers, trained by a great ninja master, and named after Renaissance artists."

All of the brothers tensed and looked to each other. One thing was on their mind, 'How does a stranger know so much about them?' Raph spoke up, "Yeah, how did you know?" "Because," The girl started, "I know you. Well, a version of you. What I'm about to say will sound crazy, but it's all true. Donnie," She turned to the purple masked turtle, "If you're anything like my Donnie, you'll get a kick out of this." Donnie had a doubtful look, "We'll see." His response caused her to chuckle.

She took in a deep breath and exhaled, "I'm from another dimension. A dimension with different versions of you. Me and my turtles were fighting an enemy of ours called the Kraang when a machine exploded, pushing me into a portal a Kraang had set up to corner me. That's when you guys found me... I just didn't expect to be sent to a dimension with to guys. And by you guys I mean ninja turtles. You guys are ninjas, right?"

"Ninjas in training," Donnie confirmed. "What are your versions of us like?" Mikey asked with excitement, coming right up to the girl. "Where do these 'Kraang' get the technology to hop from dimension to dimension?" Donnie also asked, stepping up to the girl too. "Oh! What do they look like? Who looks cooler?" Raph questions, also surrounding the girl.

"Whats your name?" Leo's calm voice from the back cut through his brothers hyper voices. Raph, Mikey and Donnie stepped aside so you could see Leo again. Now all four of them looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. "Depends on who you're asking," The girl started and continued at Leo's confused stare. "The kunoichi... or me?"

Leo was quiet, his eyes locked onto hers. Finally, he spoke, "You." She smile, eyes crinkling, "My name is (Y/N), nice to officially meet you." Leo's heartbeat spiked at her smile and finally hearing her name.

Mikey piped up, "What's a kunoichi? Does that mean you have two names?" (Y/N) nodded, "Kunoichi means female ninja, and my kunoichi name is: Artemisia." "Why do you have two names?" Raph asked. "Well... I used to be human." (Y/N) responded, getting surprised responses from the brothers.

She chuckled, "That's right, I used to be human. After I was mutated, I figured a code name was in order. So I chose Artemisia after Artemisia Gentileschi, an Italian painter." "Why were you mutated?" Donnie questioned. "Uh, accident. So tell me about yourselves, from the looks of it, you're all different types of turtles. I'm curious to how similar and different you four are from my turtles too." (Y/N) brushed off, changing the subject. The brothers looked to each other out of the corner of their eyes at her hesitancy.

*Time Skip*

The five of them talked for hours, (Y/N) telling the brothers about her and her world and the brothers returning the favor. "By the way, you guys wouldn't happen to have a way to transport from different dimensions, do you?" (Y/N) asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.

"Not that I know of, unfortunately. The closest thing we have is Leo's sword, but I don't think it can go from dimension to dimension." Donnie informed. "What do you mean?" (Y/N) asked, clearly confused.

"That right! We forgot to tell you!" Leo started excitedly, "We all, except Donnie, have magic weapons! I have a sword that can teleport us," Leo took his sword and swung it, demonstrating its use. A circular blue portal opened and he stepped through. The portal disappeared for a good 30 seconds the re-appeared, Leo stepping out with a large pizza.

After sheathing his sword, Leo walked up to (Y/N) and opened the pizza box, slightly leaning down, "For you, m'lady." She chuckled and took a piece, "Thank you, Leo." Said turtle blushed and giggled like a school girl, "You're welcome, it's nothing, don't worry about it-"

Mikey pushed Leo to the side and presented his kusari-fundo, "My weapon catches on fire!" The orange masked turtle swung his weapon around until it came to life, lighting with fire and high pitch laughing. (Y/N)'s eyes went wide, "Woah."

"My turn!" Raph pushed Mikey to the said and revealed his tonfā, "C'mon magic weapon!" He slammed his fists together and larger, red fists appeared over his own. "Wow, you guys weren't kidding about magic weapons." (Y/N) said, impressed.

"The place you got your weapons," She started, changing the subject. "Are we able to go there and see if someone there can help me get back home?" Donnie stepped forward, "We can go look after you're healed more, you're in no condition for traveling." At his words, (Y/N) gained a sad smile, "You sound just like my Donnie, caring and worried." The purple masked turtle gained an embarrassed blush, "I-I'm not worried. I just don't want to be yelled at by Leo if you get hurt because you weren't healed enough." Leo's eyes went as wide as saucers, "What?!"

(Y/N) heartily laughed out loud, "I may be away from home, but I'm glad I ended up with you guys." She gave all of them a warm smile. Raph, Mikey and Donnie returned the smile. Leo, on the other hand, had a love-struck look, eyes half lidded, blush, goofy smile, the whole nine yards.

"It's late, we should get some sleep." (Y/N) brought up, the brothers agreeing. "Goodnight, (Y/N)! It was nice getting to know ya!" Mikey grinned, leaving the lab. "Night, (Y/N), see ya tomorrow!" Raph waved, also leaving the lab. Donnie handed the girl a small remote, "If you need anything just press the button, me or one of my brothers will come help you if you need it." "Thank you, Donnie." (Y/N) smiled as the purple masked turtle left.

All that was left was Leo. (Y/N) looked to him with an expectant smile, causing the blue masked turtle to look side to side in nervousment. Leo weakly chuckled, "Y-Yeah, so if y-you need anything, j-just holla at ya boy!" He gave her finger guns as he walked backwards out of the lab, but tripped half way through. (Y/N) giggled, giving Leo more butterflies, "Goodnight Leo, I'll see you tomorrow." He also giggled, "Y-Yeah, see you t-tomorrow."

[honey-minded-hivemind]

👻Parent morph!🌫 au🤝wings of fire au🐉

So you know how moonwatcher got left in the rainforest by her mom?

Yeah imagine that happening to nightwing dragonet!reader and their found by a random raining to be brought to queen!morph, who is like "huh....AWESOME FREE EGG"

Granted the nightwing mother will come looking for her egg BUT queen morph and their harem aint Givin no baby back, especially if reader hatched before the mom came looking for them.

Oh. Oh, you got quite the idea. Yes, we're doing it.

I imagine the NightWing parent in question is either grumpy, tired, panicking dad dragon Wolverine, or the annoyed, cunning, fearful NightWing version of Mystique. I'm gonna go with Wolverine right now.

He had his egg, he hid it, amd he kept checking it over and over again, so it wouldn't be raised on a death trap of an island where the other NightWings (ferals and more muderous/dangerous mutants) were. Yet did it work? No, because some sorry, eel-minded, son of a slug eggnapped his baby. And he will NOT stand for it. So he hunts down the scent, tracking it...

RainWing Queen Morph had quite the odd discovery by one of their guards tonight! A cute little egg! It's all silvery, which isn't normal... but the poor thinh must have been abandoned! But no worries, it has a new mama/papa: Them! Of course, they'll have to make sure the dragonet inside isn't hurt or sick once it's hatched, as they aren't sure how normal a silver egg is, or if it's even a RainWing inside... And ooooohhhhh, what's this? Someone says they had an intruder, in their kingdom? A large beast of a dragon? Humph! Well, they'll see about that!

Cue slender, majestic, shimmering RainWing Queen Morph meeting burly, strong, brooding NightWing Wolverine... And now they're trying not to blush, and trying not to show weakness, especially when they ask about an egg, which, um, that's THEIR egg, large dark and handsome!

NightWing Wolverine: Who the... fr*ggin bloody mooons are y'u..? is recovering from a few RainWing sleeping darts

RainWing Queen Morph: Hello there! Why, I should be asking who YOU are! But, well, you can call me, Your Majesty~ If you don't want to be dunked in quicksand!

NightWing Wolverine: ... Wh't...?

RainWing Queen Morph: And you can't have that egg back! Its mine now! How dare you abandon it?! It's just a small, tiny thing! It's too small for an egg! What did you do to it?!

NightWing Wolverine: Dragon, I brought it here so it wouldn't die! Our home is full of ashes and death! If I left it there, it wouldn't have made it! So yeah, sorry, I brought it here! You can fo what you want with me, but if you so much as crack it's fragile shell, I'll make you wish you were dead and buried in lava!

RainWing guards: 😱😨😖😠

RainWing healers: 😰😥😢🥺

RainWing Queen Morph: ... You poor, sad, stoic dragon... I'm still not letting your egg go back to that... death trap of a home you have... but... I could always use one more loyal guard~ What do you say? Join me, and you and your egg can live long, happy, death-free lives here, in our paradise of a home! Just... no more rotten dead things, please. The smell is gross...

NightWing Wolverine: Deal. Now give me my egg!

RainWing Queen Morph: Our egg!

NightWing Wolverine: 👀🤨 Ookay... our egg...

RainWing Queen Morph: 😁😄😃🥰😍💖💛💜

(And then they end up falling in love, and oh, what's this, another dragon partner for Morph? Oh well, apparently every adult (except maybe Xavier and Magneto?) likes them, enough to marry them, for convenience, for love, or to be closer to Reader-)