Send "Nightmares Of You" for me to write a nightmare my muse would have about your muse. Remember to specify muses for multis! || ACCEPTING
The room is bright. Stark, blindingly bright. It makes his eyes hurt. He tries closing them. It doesn't help. It's still bright, but only on the one side. ... Oh, that's because his eyes are still open. But no they aren't. ... Oh, he has other eyes.
What the fuck? Even within the logic of the dream, that strikes Logan as strange. He... He is Logan, isn't he? His head is fuzzy. Radio static clouds every thought. No, not static - chatter. Like he's getting some sort of interference or separate signal. No, it's more than that. It's like someone is in his head. And they're screaming. Is he screaming? He can't tell. He tries to bring a hand to his face to check. It's not his face he touches - or not his hand that moves. He can't tell. He jerks back. Only half his body responds. It feels like his muscle fibers are tugging each other apart. Everything is trying to go in a different direction. And it hurts. It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts-!
Two voices scream in discordant harmony. One his, another familiar. When he opens his eyes again, he's able to see his reflection.
His form, warped and twisted with Wade's, a mangle of limbs and joints and organs, scars and exposed nerves and angles where there shouldn't be, and he reaches towards the glass that cages them in--