Xmen evolution (boom boom x Male reader)

Chapter 2:Montage

Two Weeks on the Run: A Mutant's Montage

Day 10: The stale air of the convenience store hung heavy as yn scanned the shelves. The camera zooms in on a shadowy alleyway where yn is lurking, Hunger gnawed at his stomach, a constant companion. He reached for a bag of chips, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. With a practiced flick of his wrist, the bag vanished into his backpack. Outside, he ripped it open, the salty crunch a small victory. "Just borrowing," he muttered, the words laced with both defiance and self-loathing.

Day 12: A grimy alleyway became his battleground. Two hulking figures, tattoos crudely scrawled across their arms, sneered at him. One cracked his knuckles. "Looks like we got ourselves a fresh runaway." Yn snarled, claws extending with a now-familiar snick. The fight was brutal, fueled by raw instinct. When it ended, his opponents lay groaning on the ground, bruised and whimpering. He spat on the ground, a dark satisfaction warring with the guilt churning in his gut. "Jerks," he mumbled, the word devoid of its usual bite. The next day it happened again, The scene shifts to a deserted urban park at night. Yn stands in the middle of a group of hostile mutants, their powers flashing in the dim light. A telekinetic mutant sneers at him, sending a flurry of rocks and debris his way. Yn deflects them with his metal claws, his movements sharp and precise. Another mutant, with super strength, charges at him, but Yn sidesteps and lands a swift punch to the jaw, sending the mutant sprawling.

Yn's eyes glint with a dangerous light. "You picked the wrong guy to mess with," he snarls, his claws extending threateningly. The mutants back off, muttering curses and insults, but yn doesn't pursue them. He retracts his claws, his breathing heavy but controlled, and walks away, leaving them nursing their bruised egos.

Day 14: Sirens wailed in the distance, a constant reminder of his hunted status. He ducked into a derelict building, the stench of decay assaulting his nostrils. Two police officers, flashlights cutting through the gloom, rounded a corner. His heart hammered. He couldn't fight them all the time. But his body betrayed his fear, claws flashing once more. The officers drew back, fear etched on their faces.

"Don't shoot!" he yelled, his voice hoarse. "I just... I need help."

The plea hung in the air, unanswered. They weren't ready to understand. With a burst of speed, he slipped past them, disappearing into the labyrinthine shadows.2 days later, The montage transitions to a narrow alley where yn is cornered by two police officers, their guns drawn. "Hands in the air!" one of them shouts, but Yn's eyes are already scanning for an escape route.

"Guess we're doing this the hard way," he mutters, a hint of a smirk on his lips. As the officers advance, Yn makes a sudden dash to the side, using his enhanced speed to vault over a low wall. The cops fire, but he's already out of sight, disappearing into the maze of the city. He lands in a crouch on the other side, wincing as a bullet graze heals slowly.

"Almost too easy," he comments to himself, shaking off the pain and continuing to run.

Day 17: Exhaustion weighed down on him, the constant adrenaline rush taking its toll. He stumbled upon a park, the sight of children playing a bittersweet pang. A young girl, her face tear-streaked, clutched a ragged teddy bear. He knelt before her, his voice barely a whisper. "What's wrong?"

She sniffled, pointing at a group of kids who were mocking her. His blood ran cold. A surge of protectiveness, fierce and primal, washed over him. He approached the bullies, his claws glinting in the afternoon sun. They scattered, fear twisting their smug faces. The girl looked at him, her eyes wide with a strange mix of terror and gratitude.

He knelt again, his voice gruff yet gentle. "Here." He dug into his backpack, pulling out a crumpled granola bar. "Don't let anyone push you around." Her small hand hesitantly reached for the bar, a flicker of a smile crossing her lips. A moment of connection, a fleeting spark of humanity in this desolate world.3 days later, Back in another grimy alley, Yn faces a lone thug who's been harassing him for days. The thug, a mutant with the ability to project energy blasts, sneers and charges up an attack. Yn's eyes darken, a primal intensity taking over. He dodges the blast, moving with a predator's grace, and within seconds, he's on the thug, his claws extended.

"You want a piece of me?" he growls, pressing the thug against the wall, his claws just inches from the thug's throat. The thug's bravado fades, replaced by fear.

Yn's eyes narrow, his voice low and menacing. "Remember this next time you think about crossing me," he says, retracting his claws but not before leaving a shallow cut as a warning. He steps back, watching as the thug stumbles away, clutching his neck.

Night: The city lights blurred as he ran, the rhythmic pounding of his feet the only constant. He was stronger, faster, different. He was a survivor, a mutant. He didn't know what the future held, but he wasn't scared anymore. He was Yn, the runaway, the fighter, the freak. And he wouldn't be hunted any longer. He would find his place, even if it was on the fringes, even if it was stained with a little blood. He was a wolf on the run, and the city was his wild, untamed territory. The montage ends with yn sitting on the edge of a rooftop, the city sprawling out below him. The night is quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of the past two weeks. He pulls out a crumpled photograph of his family, staring at it with a mixture of longing and resentment.

"Guess this is who I am now," he murmurs to the night sky, his voice carrying a blend of bitterness and acceptance. He stuffs the photo back into his pocket, standing up and looking determinedly at the horizon, and shoots out one of his metal claws from his arm. "Bring it on."

-End of Chapter 2:Montage-