#maybe not exactly where i want it to be because its going to be a job i do only in a weekedn
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i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1880 - labyrinth of my heart
chapter summary: When walking the streets of Chicago he spots you across the street, so real, so alive. Logan takes this as a second chance; but fear slowly slithers up, making him wonder if he'll lose you all over again.
word count: 9.3k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: first, i want to say thank you so much for the support and love for this series! this is way shorter than the first chapter, only because i wanted the ending to feel abrupt to hopefully make it feel more realistic. anyways, i'm super excited for next chapter since it's a concept i haven't ever really done before. but for now, enjoy this while it lasts :)
warnings/tags: fluff, angst, outdated mindsets on women, character death
series masterlist - chapter 1 → chapter 3
Logan left New York City after you died, going back to Victor who told him exactly what he expected to hear, ‘you shouldn’t have fallen in love,’ and ‘the only people we can trust is each other’.
The Civil War had begun seven years after your death as he and Victor fought for the North for four whole years. There was one thing he always kept with him, the ring he bought for you, that he never got to use. It stayed in his pocket at all times, never leaving, always there.
He had been doing the same thing he was doing before he met you, moving around the country, never staying in a spot for too long, doing odd jobs to stay afloat.
Logan found himself in Chicago, walking along the sidewalk, the faint sound of a train in the distance. The air was heavy with the scent of coal smoke, the city bustling with life in the late afternoon. Men in long coats and women in modest dresses hurried past him, some tipping their hats in his direction as he walked by. It was just another city to him, another place he would pass through on his way to nowhere in particular.
It had been 26 years since you died. Twenty-six long years, but to Logan, it still felt like yesterday. The weight of your loss hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had only grown heavier. Every town, every face he saw, reminded him of you in some way. That soft smile you always wore, the way you’d brush your hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought. He kept your memory alive in the smallest of ways. The ring he’d never had the chance to give you stayed in his pocket, its presence a constant, painful reminder.
He walked without a destination, his mind lost in the past as his feet carried him down the streets of Chicago. The city had a pulse of its own, far different from the quiet life in New York where you’d once lived, where you had died in his arms. He hadn't felt truly alive since then—just going through the motions of life, the decades slipping by as if time itself didn’t matter.
As Logan neared a small schoolhouse, something caught his eye. A group of children were gathered outside, their laughter echoing through the street as they played. But it wasn’t the children that caused Logan to stop. It was the woman standing among them, her smile bright as she helped one of the younger boys tie his shoe. The world around him seemed to blur, fading away as his gaze locked onto her.
It was you.
Logan’s heart stilled in his chest. He blinked, sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but there you were, the same face, the same gentle presence. You looked exactly as you had all those years ago—maybe a little younger, maybe a little different, but unmistakably you.
For a moment, he couldn’t move. He just stood there, watching you laugh with the children, completely unaware of his presence. His mind struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. You were dead. He had been there. He had held you as you took your last breath, felt the life leave your body. And yet, here you were, as if the last 26 years had never happened.
Logan’s feet moved on their own, pulling him closer to the schoolyard. His heart pounded in his chest, his throat dry. His mind raced with a thousand questions. How could this be? Was it some kind of dream? A cruel trick?
But the closer he got, the more real you became. You were wearing a simple dress, your hair tied up in a way he hadn’t seen before, and yet everything about you felt so familiar. The way you carried yourself, the warmth in your eyes as you spoke to the children—it was all you.
“Excuse me, miss,” he called out, his voice rougher than he intended.
You turned at the sound of his voice, your eyes meeting his for the first time, and Logan felt his heart lurch. It was like being thrown back in time—like the years between this moment and the day you died had vanished. You looked at him with a polite curiosity, but there was no recognition in your eyes. No flicker of memory. To you, he was just a stranger.
“Yes, can I help you?” you asked, your voice soft, kind.
Logan’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t know what to say. How could he possibly explain what was running through his mind? How could he tell you that he had loved you, that he had lost you, and that now—somehow—you were standing in front of him again?
“I... I thought I knew you,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. He didn’t trust himself to say more. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the ring in his pocket suddenly feeling heavier than ever.
You smiled, but it was the smile of someone trying to be polite, not of someone who knew him. “I don’t think we’ve met before,” you said. “I’m Y/N. I’m the schoolteacher here.”
Logan swallowed hard. Of course, you wouldn’t remember. You had no idea who he was, no memory of the life you’d lived before. To you, this was just another day, another moment. But to Logan, it was everything. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. You were here, alive again, but you weren’t his Y/N. Not yet, anyway.
“I’m Logan,” he finally managed, his voice thick with emotion he couldn’t hide. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, his heart aching in a way that felt both familiar and new.
You nodded, offering another warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Logan. Was there something you needed?”
Logan shook his head slowly, still reeling from the shock of seeing you again. “No,” he said quietly. “No, I... I just thought you looked like someone I used to know.”
You tilted your head slightly, a curious look in your eyes. “I get that sometimes. Chicago’s a big city, but it can feel small.”
Logan nodded, though his mind was far from this moment. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from you, couldn’t shake the feeling that this was some kind of miracle—a second chance. But what could he do with it? Could he approach you, tell you everything? Or would that only drive you away?
Before he could say anything more, the school bell rang, and the children started to gather their things. You glanced back at the sound, then looked at him with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I have to get back to my class. But maybe I’ll see you around?”
Logan nodded, his throat too tight to respond with words. He watched as you turned and walked back toward the schoolhouse, his heart aching with the weight of all the things he couldn’t say.
For the first time in 26 years, Logan felt hope stir in his chest. You were here. You were alive. And even if you didn’t remember him, even if you didn’t know who he was... he couldn’t walk away. Not this time.
---
Logan stayed near the schoolyard most afternoons, hidden just enough not to draw attention, watching you from a distance. It felt strange, almost painful, standing there, knowing you had no idea who he was. Every time you emerged from the schoolhouse with Ida, another schoolteacher, chatting and laughing, the urge to approach you tugged at him. But fear held him back—fear that you’d think he was insane, or worse, that you’d reject him outright.
He clenched his fists inside his coat pockets, feeling the cool metal of the ring press against his palm. It had been with him through wars, across states, through lifetimes. And now, here you were, alive again, and he still didn’t know what to do with it.
It was absurd, the way his heart raced just from seeing you walk down the street. How after all these years—after so much pain—hope could sneak its way back in. This wasn’t just a coincidence. It couldn’t be. Logan wasn’t the type to believe in magic or miracles, but what else could explain this?
As he lingered, the school bell rang, signaling the end of another day. Children poured out of the building, laughing and running. A few hung on your arms as you walked them down the steps, their chatter filling the air.
Logan shifted from foot to foot, nerves prickling along his spine. Just talk to her, idiot. You’ve been through worse.
But when you stepped into the street, Ida at your side as usual, the words died in his throat.
“Y/N, you coming for dinner at my place tonight?” Ida asked, tucking a stray curl beneath her bonnet.
You smiled, brushing your hands on your skirts. “Can’t tonight, but I’ll stop by tomorrow. The kids wore me out today.”
Ida chuckled. “You’ll turn into an old maid before you’re thirty at this rate.”
You rolled your eyes, but your laugh was warm. Logan felt the sound of it settle deep in his chest—like an old memory coming back to life. It was a laugh he hadn’t heard in 26 years, and it took everything in him not to run to you right then and there.
As you and Ida turned the corner toward the tenement, Logan followed at a distance. His heart hammered against his ribs. He just needed a moment, a chance to say something—anything.
Finally, the two of you paused outside the building. Ida gave you a quick hug before heading upstairs, leaving you alone on the stoop. You stood there for a moment, adjusting your shawl against the evening chill.
This is it. Now or never.
Logan forced his feet to move, crossing the street toward you.
You looked up as he approached, a little surprised but not alarmed. “Logan, wasn’t it?”
His throat felt tight, but he gave a short nod. “Yeah. Logan.”
You smiled softly, the same kind smile that had haunted his dreams. “What brings you by?”
He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. “I... I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
Your brow furrowed slightly, but there was no fear, only curiosity. “About what?”
Logan shifted his weight, his hands tightening around the edges of his coat. The ring in his pocket seemed to burn against his skin, a reminder of everything unsaid.
“I... You remind me of someone,” he admitted, voice low. “Someone I lost a long time ago.”
You studied him for a moment, your gaze steady but gentle. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “That must’ve been hard.”
Logan’s jaw clenched. “Yeah,” he muttered. “It was.”
There was a beat of silence between you—heavy, charged with the weight of all the things Logan couldn’t say. You didn’t know him, didn’t know what you’d meant to him in another life, but standing here, so close to you again, it felt like the world had tilted back into place.
“You... wanna walk for a bit?” Logan asked suddenly, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.
You hesitated, but only for a moment. Something in his expression must’ve stirred your kindness, because you nodded. “Alright.”
The two of you started down the sidewalk together, the city humming around you. Logan kept his hands stuffed in his pockets, fingers brushing the ring again and again like a talisman.
“So, how long have you been in Chicago?” you asked, glancing over at him.
Logan shrugged. “Not long. Just passing through.”
You gave a small smile. “It’s a good place to get lost in for a while.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Guess so.”
The conversation fell into a comfortable rhythm after that—small talk, nothing too deep. Logan told you bits and pieces about his travels, careful not to reveal too much. He learned that you’d moved to Chicago a couple of years ago, taking the teaching job because it felt right.
“I’ve always liked working with kids,” you said with a soft smile. “There’s something... hopeful about it, you know?”
Logan nodded, though hope had been a foreign concept to him for a long time. But walking beside you now, listening to your voice, he felt something stir in him—a flicker of warmth he thought he’d lost forever.
As the evening deepened and the sky turned a dusky purple, you reached your building again. You stopped on the stoop, turning to face him.
“Thank you for the walk,” you said, your smile gentle. “It was nice.”
Logan nodded, his heart heavy with everything he wanted to say but couldn’t. “Yeah. It was.”
For a moment, it felt like time stood still—like the universe had bent just enough to give him this moment with you. And even though you didn’t remember him, didn’t know the history you shared, Logan knew he couldn’t let you slip away again.
“Y/N...” he began, his voice low, almost hesitant.
You tilted your head, waiting.
He swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. “Can I see you again?”
Your smile widened, something warm flickering in your eyes. “I’d like that.”
Logan gave a short nod, his heart pounding against his ribs.
“Good,” he murmured.
And for the first time in 26 years, Logan allowed himself to believe—just for a moment—that maybe, just maybe, he’d found his way back to you.
---
You had taken up Ida’s offer after all, you lived in the same building so it wasn’t like it was out of the way for you.
“Oh, hey! Thought you weren’t gonna come by.”
You shrugged, taking off your shawl, “changed my mind.” You sat down on the couch and told Ida about your walk with Logan, and she listened intently.
“I’m surprised you hadn’t noticed him. He’s been watching the schoolyard for the past few weeks.”
"Wait, what do you mean, ‘he’s been watching the schoolyard for weeks?’” you asked, your brows knitting together as you leaned forward.
Ida waved her hand dismissively but gave you a sly smile. “Oh, don’t get the wrong idea. He hasn’t been creepy about it or anything. Just... noticed him hanging around, that’s all. Kind of hard to miss a guy like that, don’t you think?”
You blinked, a sudden flush creeping up your neck. “A guy like what?”
“Oh, come on, Y/N,” she teased, sitting down across from you. “Tall, rugged... that serious, brooding look. You’re telling me you didn’t notice? He’s practically been glued to the corner across from the schoolhouse for days.”
You chewed on your bottom lip, thinking back to the walk you’d just had with Logan. You hadn’t seen him watching the school, but now that Ida mentioned it... there had been something in his eyes. A familiarity you couldn’t quite place, like he was looking at you but seeing something—or someone—else.
“I didn’t know he was hanging around,” you admitted, glancing down at your hands. “But... he seems kind. Sad, but kind.”
Ida leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest with a thoughtful hum. “Sad, huh? You picked up on that, too?”
You nodded, feeling a strange tightness in your chest. There had been a weight to Logan’s presence, something unspoken in his voice, like he was carrying the world on his shoulders. And then there was the way he looked at you—like he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to.
“You think he’s okay?” you asked quietly.
Ida shrugged, her teasing expression softening. “Who knows? The world’s a tough place. We all got our own burdens to carry. But... maybe he’s looking for something.”
“Looking for what?”
“Maybe someone to share the load,” she replied with a small smile, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe that someone’s you.”
You shook your head, the idea seeming too far-fetched. “I don’t even know him, Ida. I mean, we just talked for the first time today.”
“Hey, stranger things have happened,” Ida said, getting up to grab a pot of tea from the stove. “You felt something, right? That’s not nothing.”
You sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I guess. He did say I reminded him of someone he lost.”
Ida paused, setting the teapot down carefully. “Lost, huh? That would explain the sad part. But... why hang around you then? What’s he hoping to find?”
“I don’t know,” you murmured, more to yourself than to her. The idea that Logan had been watching you, even unknowingly, made something stir in your chest—a mix of curiosity and something you couldn’t quite name.
Ida handed you a cup of tea, sitting back down beside you. “Well, maybe next time you see him, you can ask.”
You looked up at her, one eyebrow raised. “Ask him why he’s hanging around the schoolyard?”
Ida laughed softly. “Maybe not that bluntly, but yeah. There’s something about him, Y/N. Might be worth finding out what.”
You sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through you. Maybe Ida was right. Maybe Logan was carrying something heavy, and maybe—just maybe—you could help.
---
The next day, you found yourself more aware of your surroundings as you walked to the schoolhouse. Every sound, every movement seemed sharper. You scanned the street, looking for a familiar figure, but Logan wasn’t there—at least, not that you could see.
The day went on as usual, though you felt a bit distracted, your mind drifting to the walk you’d shared with him. There was something about Logan that pulled at you, a quiet intensity that you couldn’t shake. He was a mystery, and part of you wanted to solve it.
When the school day ended, you lingered outside a little longer than usual, hoping—half-expecting—that he might show up again. The children ran off, their laughter echoing down the street as they disappeared into their homes. You smiled at the sight, but your thoughts were elsewhere.
“Looking for someone?”
You jumped slightly, turning to find Logan standing just a few feet away. He had approached so quietly you hadn’t even heard him.
“Logan,” you said, surprised but not unwelcome. “I didn’t see you.”
He gave a small shrug, his hands shoved into his coat pockets. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
You smiled softly, your heartbeat slowing as the initial surprise wore off. “It’s alright. Just didn’t expect to see you today.”
Logan shifted his weight, his gaze flicking to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “I wanted to see if you’d like to take another walk. If you’re not too tired, that is.”
You hesitated, but only for a second. There was something in his voice—something vulnerable, almost hesitant. And despite not knowing him well, you found yourself wanting to say yes.
“I’d like that,” you said, stepping down from the schoolhouse stoop.
The two of you started walking again, this time in a different direction, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the street. For a while, neither of you spoke. It was a comfortable silence, though, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. Logan walked beside you, his steps steady but deliberate, like he was trying to figure something out.
“Why’ve you been hanging around the school?” you finally asked, your curiosity getting the better of you. “Ida said she noticed you there for a while.”
Logan’s jaw tightened slightly, and he didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was quiet. “I wasn’t trying to... I don’t know. I guess I was just... drawn there.”
“Drawn there?” you echoed, glancing up at him.
He nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. “Yeah. Like I said before, you remind me of someone.”
You didn’t press, sensing that whatever it was, it was personal. Instead, you walked in silence for a few more steps before Logan stopped abruptly.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, turning to face you fully. His eyes were intense, but there was something almost apologetic in them. “If I am, just tell me, and I’ll leave you alone.”
You shook your head quickly. “No, you’re not making me uncomfortable.”
Logan studied your face, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he gave a small nod, almost as if he was relieved.
“Alright,” he said quietly.
The conversation shifted after that, lightening as you talked about small things—the city, your students, even the weather. Logan listened more than he spoke, but you could feel him relax bit by bit, the tension in his posture easing as the afternoon wore on.
When you reached your building again, Logan stopped with you on the stoop. There was a moment of hesitation, like he wasn’t sure if he should stay or go.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked, offering him a small smile.
Logan looked at you for a long beat before nodding. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”
As you turned to head inside, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. Logan was still standing there, watching you with that same look in his eyes—the one that made you feel like you were more than just a stranger to him.
And in that moment, you realized... you didn’t want to be just a stranger to him either.
---
After about a week of Logan walking you home, it became a familiar routine. Each time, you’d stand on the stoop, exchanging a few words before you’d head inside, always with that lingering feeling of something left unsaid. But tonight was different—the air was colder, and the wind was biting, so when you reached your building, you didn’t hesitate.
“You’re not going out in that cold again,” you said firmly, reaching for his arm. He tensed slightly under your touch, but you ignored it, tugging him toward the door. “Ten minutes outside in the cold, you need to warm up before you go.”
Logan didn’t protest, but you could sense his hesitation. He glanced around the dimly lit hallway as you led him up the stairs to your small apartment.
“Don’t worry,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. “I won’t keep you long. Just until you can feel your fingers again.”
He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, following you inside. Once you were both in, you motioned for him to sit down on the worn couch, tossing your shawl onto a chair as you made your way to the stove to boil some water for tea.
Logan stood there for a moment, his eyes scanning the modest space, before finally sitting down. His presence seemed to fill the room, making it feel smaller, more intimate.
“You don’t gotta fuss,” he muttered, his gruff voice breaking the silence. “I’m alright.”
“Humor me,” you replied with a soft smile, setting a kettle on the stove. “Besides, I’ve been dragging you along on these walks. Least I can do is make sure you’re not freezing to death.”
Logan huffed a quiet laugh, leaning back into the couch. His eyes followed your movements, though his expression stayed guarded. He looked... cautious, like he wasn’t sure how to be here with you, in this space. It was strange, this carefulness, coming from a man who seemed so unbreakable.
“Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?” you asked, turning to face him while the water heated up. “We’ve been walking for a week, and I feel like I barely know you.”
Logan’s gaze shifted, and you could tell he was weighing his words. “Not much to tell,” he said after a beat. “Just a guy who’s been around a while.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “That’s it? No family, no friends? You just... wander?”
He looked down at his hands, his fingers idly tracing the worn fabric of the couch. “Had family once. Friends, too. Lost most of ‘em.”
There was a heaviness in his voice, and you could feel the weight of his words. You didn’t push him, though. Instead, you poured the hot water into two cups, walking over and handing him one.
“Sorry,” you said softly. “That must’ve been hard.”
Logan took the cup but didn’t drink right away. He stared down into the tea, his expression unreadable. “Life’s hard for everyone,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.
You sat down beside him, the warmth from the cup seeping into your hands. For a while, the two of you sat in silence, sipping tea and letting the quiet fill the space. There was something about being near him that made you feel calm, like the world slowed down for a little while when he was around.
“Why’d you let me walk with you?” Logan asked suddenly, his voice rougher than before.
You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t know me,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “Most people wouldn’t... They’d be scared, or they’d push me away. But you... you let me stay.”
You frowned, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know... I guess I just felt like... I should.” You shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious under his intense gaze. “Besides, you’re not exactly a scary guy. Brooding, sure, but not scary.”
A small, barely-there smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re not afraid of much, are you?”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Not really. I mean, what’s the point of being afraid? Life’s hard enough without worrying about things that might not even happen.”
Logan’s smile faded, replaced by that familiar look of sadness. He stared into his cup for a moment, then set it down on the table in front of him. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Guess you’re right.”
The silence stretched between you again, but this time it felt heavier, like there was something unsaid hanging in the air. You could feel it, pressing down on both of you, but neither of you seemed ready to break it.
Finally, Logan stood up, his movements slow and deliberate. “I should go,” he said, though he didn’t make a move toward the door.
You stood up too, your heart pounding a little harder than usual. “Logan...”
He turned to face you, his eyes dark and full of something you couldn’t quite place. “Yeah?”
You took a step closer, your hand reaching out to touch his arm again. “You don’t have to carry it all alone,” you said softly.
For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then, without saying a word, he nodded once, a silent acknowledgment that you didn’t need to explain.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said quietly before turning to leave.
You watched him go, your heart heavy but hopeful. There was something between you—something unspoken, something old—and you weren’t ready to let it go.
Not yet.
---
It had taken a few more days to convince Logan to come back into your apartment. You weren’t sure how you convinced him this time, but you were happy that you did.
Your apartment smelled nice and homey. Before you had left for work, you had put bread in the oven to bake, and now, as you came back home with Logan in tow, it was finished. The warm, inviting scent of freshly baked bread filled the room as you stepped inside. Logan hesitated in the doorway, lingering for a moment before following you in, his expression unreadable but curious.
You busied yourself with the bread, slicing into the crust and offering Logan a piece. He took it, though his attention seemed more focused on you than the food.
"Thanks," he muttered, taking a bite.
You smiled, trying to ignore the way your heart sped up just from him being here. "I was thinking..." you started, turning to grab a couple of plates from the cupboard. "Maybe we could go into the city tomorrow? It’s market day. There's a lot to see, and it’d be nice to get out of the schoolhouse routine for a bit."
Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter. "Market, huh?"
"Yeah, you know, just... walk around. Maybe pick up a few things." You looked over at him, half expecting him to decline, but to your surprise, he didn’t.
"Alright," he said, his voice low but without hesitation. "I’ll come with you."
You smiled, feeling a small flutter of excitement in your chest. "Great. It’ll be fun. I promise."
---
The next day, you found yourself walking through the bustling streets of Chicago with Logan by your side. The market was crowded, full of people haggling and chatting, the air thick with the smell of fresh produce, spices, and the occasional whiff of roasting meat. It was a world away from the quiet walks you'd shared, and you could feel Logan's unease in the busy atmosphere. But he stayed close, his hand brushing yours more than once as you wove through the crowd.
"Do you come here often?" Logan asked, his eyes scanning the vendors with mild interest.
"Once or twice a month," you replied. "I like the energy here. Makes the city feel alive, you know?"
Logan grunted in response, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. You could tell he wasn’t used to this—being around so many people—but he stuck close to you, his presence protective without being overbearing.
After a while, you stopped at a stall selling flowers. The colors were vibrant, a burst of life in the middle of the dusty street. You picked up a small bouquet of wildflowers, smiling as you held them up.
"These are my favorite," you said, glancing up at Logan. "They're simple but... I don't know, they make me happy."
Logan’s gaze softened as he looked at the flowers in your hand, then back at you. There was something in his eyes, a flicker of something unspoken, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a few coins, handing them to the vendor before you could protest.
"Logan, you don’t have to—"
"Consider it a thank you," he said quietly, cutting you off. "For the bread."
You blinked, surprised but touched by the gesture. "Well, thank you."
He nodded, and the two of you continued walking, the flowers resting in the crook of your arm as the city bustled around you. For a while, you walked in comfortable silence, the sounds of the market fading into the background as the two of you wandered further from the busy streets. Eventually, you found a quiet park at the edge of the city, a small, peaceful space away from the noise.
You sat down on a bench, feeling the cool breeze brush against your skin. Logan sat beside you, his posture relaxed but his eyes always scanning the area, as if he couldn’t fully let his guard down.
"Do you ever stop looking over your shoulder?" you asked, half teasing but curious.
Logan’s mouth twitched into a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Old habit."
You studied him for a moment, sensing there was more behind those words. He had a way of holding himself, like he was always ready for something, always waiting. It made you wonder just how much he’d seen, how much he’d lived through.
"I’m glad you came with me today," you said softly, looking out at the park. "I feel like I’ve been stuck in a routine for a while now. It’s nice to just... do something different."
Logan glanced at you, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. "I’m glad I came too," he admitted, his voice low.
There was something in the way he said it, something that made your heart skip a beat. The air between you felt different, charged with a quiet tension that neither of you seemed willing to break. You wondered if he felt it too—the strange pull between you, like something just beneath the surface was waiting to be uncovered.
After a long pause, Logan spoke again. "I ain’t good at... this." He gestured vaguely, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words. "Being close to people."
You turned to him, surprised by the admission. "You’re doing fine," you said gently.
Logan’s jaw clenched slightly, and he shook his head. "It’s not that simple."
You felt a pang of something—sympathy, maybe, or understanding. Whatever it was, it made you reach out, your hand lightly brushing his. "You don’t have to explain," you said softly. "I get it."
Logan’s eyes flickered down to where your hand rested near his. For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, slowly, he turned his hand over, his rough fingers brushing against yours in the faintest of touches. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a step—like maybe, just maybe, he was letting you in.
---
As you walked to the tenement building after work one day, you glanced over at Logan. “You ever been to the exhibition hall in the city?”
Logan looked over to you, slightly puzzled by the question. “The exhibition?”
You nodded, turning toward him. “There’s a display of inventions and art from all over. I heard they’ve got this new thing—electric lights. I was thinking about going this weekend, and… maybe you’d like to come with me?”
For a moment, Logan just stared at you, as if unsure what to say. The idea of stepping out into the city, surrounded by people, probably wasn’t something he did often. But he shifted slightly, his eyes softening in that way they did when you caught him off guard.
“You want me to go with you?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.
“Well, yeah,” you said, smiling. “We’ve been walking the same few streets for days. Thought it might be nice to do something different. Besides, I’m curious about those lights. They say it’s going to change the way people live.”
Logan gave a low, thoughtful hum, and for a moment, you worried he might decline. But then he nodded slowly, his expression softening further. “Alright. I’ll go.”
Your smile widened. “Great! We can meet at my place on Saturday afternoon, then head out.”
The conversation drifted back into easier topics—your students, a new bakery that had opened nearby, and the way the city seemed to grow busier every day. But beneath it all, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this small invitation marked a shift, a way to see more of who Logan was beyond the quiet man who walked beside you in silence. Maybe out in the world, you’d understand him better.
---
Saturday came quickly, and the two of you walked side by side through the busy streets, the sounds of horses and carriages filling the air. You led Logan through the bustling avenues toward the exhibition hall, your excitement barely contained.
“Ever seen anything like this?” you asked, glancing up at him as the towering hall came into view.
Logan’s eyes flicked over the building, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not in a while.”
Inside, the hall was a wonder of modern marvels. Booths lined with mechanical inventions, sculptures, and paintings from around the world. The hum of excitement filled the air, and the bright new electric lights cast a strange, almost magical glow over everything.
You wandered the displays together, your curiosity leading the way. Logan stayed close, his attention less on the inventions and more on you. Every now and then, he'd glance at a piece of machinery or a strange-looking contraption, but his eyes kept drifting back to your face, watching the way your expression changed with each new discovery.
"This is incredible," you murmured, leaning in to get a closer look at a large machine labeled as an ‘automatic loom.’ You smiled at Logan, your excitement clear. "Can you imagine how much time this would save?"
Logan nodded, though you could tell his thoughts were elsewhere. "Yeah, I can see how it'd be useful."
You moved to the next display, but Logan lingered for a moment. When he finally caught up, you were already studying a painting—a soft, pastoral scene that contrasted with the industrial energy around you.
"It's beautiful, isn’t it?" you said, glancing at him.
Logan’s gaze flicked to the painting, but quickly returned to you. "Yeah," he said, though it was clear he wasn’t talking about the art.
You felt his eyes on you again and looked up, meeting his gaze. There was something there—something that made your heart skip. Logan had always been protective, always hovering just close enough to shield you if need be. But this felt different, like there was more to it now.
"You sure this ain’t boring for you?" you asked, trying to lighten the moment. "I know you’re not one for crowds."
Logan gave a quiet grunt, his version of a chuckle. "It’s fine. Long as you’re enjoying yourself."
You smiled, touched by the sentiment. "I am. Thanks for coming with me."
For a while, you wandered together in silence, taking in the sights and sounds of the exhibition hall. The crowds around you buzzed with excitement, but the space between you and Logan felt almost separate—like the world had shrunk to just the two of you.
At one point, you stopped in front of a display showcasing early electric light bulbs. "Look at that," you said, pointing to the glass bulbs flickering with soft light. "They’re saying these will replace gas lamps soon."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Doesn’t seem right, replacing something that’s worked for so long."
"Change is good sometimes," you said, glancing at him. "It keeps things moving forward."
Logan met your eyes, his expression soft but thoughtful. "Guess I’ve never been good with change."
You tilted your head slightly, sensing the weight behind his words. "Maybe you just haven’t found the right reason to embrace it yet."
For a moment, Logan didn’t respond. His gaze lingered on you, like he was trying to make sense of something. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Maybe."
As the afternoon wore on, the two of you eventually stepped outside the exhibition hall, the sun low in the sky and the city’s evening glow starting to take over. The air felt cooler now, a welcome relief after the warmth of the crowded hall.
You walked beside Logan in comfortable silence, but the charged undercurrent between you hadn’t faded. It felt like something had shifted—like you’d both acknowledged a deeper connection, even if neither of you had fully put it into words yet.
"You want to get something to eat?" Logan asked, breaking the silence.
"Sure," you said, smiling up at him. "There’s a place not far from here. They make the best stew."
Logan nodded, falling into step beside you again as you made your way toward the small restaurant you had in mind. The quiet between you was easy, but there was an unspoken understanding that something had changed between the two of you today. Neither of you said it out loud, but you didn’t need to.
As you entered the restaurant, the warm scent of food filled the air, and you found a table near the back, away from the main crowd. Logan took the seat across from you, his eyes scanning the room out of habit, but eventually settling back on you.
"This place isn’t so bad," he said, giving a small nod of approval.
You laughed softly. "Glad it meets your standards."
Logan smirked, but there was a softness behind it. As the two of you talked over dinner, you realized just how much you enjoyed moments like this—quiet, simple, yet meaningful. It wasn’t about grand gestures or fancy places; it was about being together, about the way Logan made you feel safe and seen.
---
One day, after inviting Logan into your apartment once again, you set out to make tea like you always do.
You felt a cough building up in your throat, so you grabbed a small handkerchief from the counter and coughed into it. You had seen the school doctor while you were at work, and he said you just had a mild cold.
Logan, who was sitting on the couch, immediately turned his head to you, his heart almost beating out of his chest. He’d heard that cough before—26 years ago.
"Y/N?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.
You turned around, still holding the handkerchief to your mouth. "Yeah?" you answered casually, noticing the tension in his voice but thinking nothing of it. “Just a little cough, nothing serious. I saw the doctor earlier, and he said it’s just a cold.”
Logan stood up slowly, his eyes fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He took a step closer, his mind racing back to 1854, to your last days—bedridden and coughing, just like this. He had lost you then, watching helplessly as the illness took you. He couldn't shake the feeling, the memory, and the fear that history might repeat itself.
"Cold, huh?" he said, trying to keep his voice steady, but there was an edge to it.
"Yeah, no big deal." You smiled, folding the handkerchief and putting it back in your pocket. "Really, Logan, I’m fine."
Logan’s jaw tightened. He had seen too much, lived too long to believe in coincidence. This was too familiar, too painful. And yet, here you were—alive, vibrant. This time, he couldn’t lose you again. He wouldn't.
"You should take it easy," he said, stepping closer, his tone gentler now. "You been workin' too hard at that school."
You raised an eyebrow, sensing his concern but not quite understanding the depth of it. "I’m fine, really. It’s just a little cold. Nothing that rest and tea won’t fix."
Logan didn’t argue, but the worry in his eyes didn’t fade. He reached out, his hand hovering for a moment before he gently brushed his fingers against your arm, grounding himself in the fact that you were here, with him. This wasn’t 1854. But the memory haunted him.
You noticed the way he was looking at you, his eyes searching yours like he was afraid to lose you. "Hey," you said softly, resting a hand on his. "What’s really going on?"
Logan’s breath hitched for a moment, and he fought the urge to pull you closer, to tell you everything. But how could he? How could he explain that you’d been here before—that he’d watched you die, that he’d loved you once in another life, in another time? Instead, he just shook his head, the weight of those memories too heavy to share.
"Just... don’t push yourself too hard," he said, his voice quieter now. "I’ve seen people get worse when they don’t take care of themselves."
You nodded, though his intensity still lingered in your mind. "I promise, I’ll rest." You gave him a reassuring smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides, you’ll make sure I do, right?"
Logan’s lips quirked into the smallest smile, but there was still something distant in his eyes. "Yeah," he said softly. "I will."
The moment hung in the air, the unspoken weight of Logan’s past pressing down on him, though you couldn’t see it. You were the same, and yet not. The woman he had once loved and lost was standing right in front of him, alive, but without any memory of that life you’d shared.
---
You didn’t see Logan for a few days, which was unusual, ever since he started walking with you he had never missed a day.
You couldn’t help but worry a tad bit, it wasn’t like him to just not be there. Even Ida had made a few comments, including now as you sat in her apartment, just a few doors down from your own, sipping tea.
“He hasn’t been by at all?” Ida asked, her brow furrowed with concern. “That man never misses a day. He’s usually lurking outside, waitin’ to walk you home.”
You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah, I noticed. It’s been three days now.”
Ida leaned forward, her hands folded on the table. “You don’t think somethin’s happened to him, do ya? That man is tough, sure, but even the toughest get into trouble sometimes.”
You shook your head quickly, not wanting to entertain the thought. “No, I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he just needed some time alone. He’s... not the type to explain himself much.”
Ida hummed, though she didn’t look convinced. “Maybe. But if he doesn’t show up soon, you ought to go find him. He’s a good man, Y/N, and you’ve only known him a month, but it’s clear he cares about you.”
The truth of her words settled over you, heavy and unspoken. You cared about Logan too. Even if you didn’t quite understand the pull between you, it was there—undeniable. And the fact that he hadn’t shown up, without so much as a word, made your chest tighten with worry.
Later that evening, after you’d left Ida’s apartment and returned to your own, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. Logan had become part of your routine, part of your day-to-day life. And now that he was gone, it felt like something was missing.
Just as you were about to turn in for the night, a knock sounded at the door.
Your heart jumped, and you rushed to open it, half expecting—half hoping—it would be Logan.
And there he was.
He stood in the doorway, his coat damp from the light rain outside, his hair slightly tousled. His eyes, though, were what caught you—the familiar intensity, but with something else lurking beneath. Something darker.
“Logan,” you breathed, stepping aside to let him in. “Where have you been? I was starting to get worried.”
Logan stepped into your small apartment, his broad frame somehow filling the space, making it feel even smaller. He didn’t say anything right away, just ran a hand through his hair and exhaled sharply, as if he were trying to gather his thoughts.
“I needed time,” he finally said, his voice low and gravelly.
“Time for what?” you asked gently, sensing that whatever he was about to say wasn’t easy for him.
Logan glanced at you, then looked away, as if he couldn’t meet your eyes. His jaw tightened, and you could see the struggle on his face—like he was wrestling with something deep inside. After a long pause, he spoke again, quieter this time.
“I’m scared,” he admitted, the words sounding foreign in his mouth, like he wasn’t used to saying them.
You blinked, taken aback. Logan was the last person you ever expected to hear those words from. “Scared of what?”
His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you saw the vulnerability there, raw and unguarded. “Of losing you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Logan… we’ve only known each other for a month,” you said softly, though the words felt strange even as they left your mouth. Because deep down, it felt like you’d known him much longer—like this connection between you was more than just a month in the making.
“I know,” Logan said, his voice rough. “But it doesn’t change how I feel.”
There was something in the way he was looking at you, something desperate and pained, like he was holding onto you with everything he had. You wanted to ask him why, to understand what had happened in his past to make him feel this way. But instead, you just reached out, your hand finding his.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you said quietly, squeezing his hand gently. “I’m right here.”
Logan’s breath hitched, and before you could say anything more, he stepped closer, his hand cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushed your cheek, his touch rough but gentle, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fall away. It was just the two of you, standing in the quiet of your apartment, the air between you thick with unspoken words.
And then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was urgent, almost desperate, like he was trying to tell you everything he couldn’t put into words. His lips moved against yours with a fierceness that took your breath away, and for a moment, all you could do was hold onto him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his coat as you kissed him back.
When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. His hand still cupped your cheek, his thumb gently brushing along your jawline.
“I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Your heart ached at the raw honesty in his words, and you wanted to promise him that he wouldn’t—that you were here, that you weren’t going anywhere. But something about the way he said it made you hesitate, made you wonder what he wasn’t telling you.
“Logan…” you started, your voice soft. “What aren’t you telling me?”
For a long moment, he didn’t answer. His hand dropped from your face, and he took a step back, his expression guarded once again. The walls he’d let down just moments ago seemed to be rising back up.
“I’ve lived a long time,” he said finally, his voice low. “I’ve lost people before. People I cared about. I can’t… I can’t go through that again.”
You felt a pang in your chest at his words, but there was something else there too—something unspoken. “Logan… who did you lose?”
His eyes flickered with pain, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he just shook his head, as if he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.
You wanted to press him, to understand, but you also knew that Logan wasn’t someone who opened up easily. So instead, you just stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him in a gentle hug. He stiffened at first, but then his arms slowly came around you, pulling you close as if he was afraid to let go.
“I’m here,” you whispered against his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”
For now, that was all you could offer him. And for now, it seemed to be enough.
---
You and Ida sat in the back of the rattling carriage, bundled against the cold, the wheels creaking beneath the weight of your bags from the market. The late afternoon sky was heavy with clouds, promising rain before nightfall and a storm by morning.
“Supposed to come down hard tomorrow,” Ida said, clutching her shawl tighter. “Glad we got everything done now. Don’t wanna be caught in that mess.”
You smiled, shifting a bag of potatoes off your lap. “It’ll be nice to have an excuse to stay in and rest. Logan’s been after me about taking it easy anyway.”
Ida gave you a knowing look, her brow lifting. “That man likes you, Y/N. More than you think.”
You shrugged, though your cheeks warmed slightly. “I know he cares. He’s just… different. Keeps to himself.”
“He’s different, alright,” Ida muttered, peering out the carriage window. “But he’s not the type to care about someone without good reason. Don’t let that one get away.”
You didn’t respond, but your thoughts drifted to Logan—how he had kissed you that night, holding you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. There was something ancient in his touch, like he had carried the weight of loss for far too long. You didn’t fully understand it, but you felt it—something deeper than words or time.
The carriage jolted suddenly, jerking you forward in your seat. The horse up front whinnied, wild and panicked.
“Whoa!” the driver shouted, yanking hard on the reins.
You clutched Ida’s arm, your heart racing. “What’s going on?”
The driver cursed, standing in his seat to get a better look. “The damn harness snapped! The horse—”
Before he could finish, the horse bolted, the broken leather straps slapping wildly behind it. The carriage lurched, and you and Ida were thrown sideways. The wheels screamed as they spun out of control, the driver shouting as he fought to keep it steady.
“Hold on!” he yelled.
The world tilted violently as the carriage careened off the road, slamming into a ditch. Bags spilled across the floor, and you hit your shoulder hard against the side wall. Ida’s scream filled your ears, but the noise was drowned out by the thunder of the collapsing carriage, wood splintering and wheels buckling beneath the weight.
And then—nothing.
The carriage stopped, shuddering to a halt in a twisted heap at the bottom of the ditch. The rain started, light at first, pattering against the wreckage.
---
Logan was walking back toward your tenement building, the collar of his coat turned up against the cold drizzle, when he saw it—just beyond the next block, down by the road.
The sight hit him like a punch to the chest.
A carriage, overturned, one of the wheels still spinning lazily. The horse was gone, its reins dangling uselessly from the harness. People were gathering, but no one dared approach the wreckage yet.
Logan’s heart stopped. He knew—he just knew.
His feet moved before he could think. He sprinted toward the wreck, rain falling harder now, soaking through his clothes. His boots hit the muddy road with heavy thuds, splashing water as he ran faster than any ordinary man should.
By the time he reached the scene, a bystander had climbed down, trying to pry the splintered door open. Logan shoved him aside without a word, claws itching under his skin, ready to tear the door off if need be.
“Someone’s inside!” the man stammered. “Two women—”
Logan didn’t wait. His hands found the edge of the door, and with a growl of effort, he yanked it off the hinges. Inside the crumpled interior, he saw you, half-buried beneath scattered bags.
“Y/N!” His voice cracked, raw and frantic. He dropped to his knees and pulled you free, cradling you in his arms.
You stirred, barely conscious, your head lolling against his chest. Blood streaked your temple, and your breath came in shallow gasps.
“Logan…?” you whispered, confused, your hand weakly grasping his coat.
“I got you,” Logan said, his voice breaking. “I’m here. You’re gonna be fine.” But even as he said it, dread gnawed at him—this wasn’t fine. It was happening again.
Ida groaned nearby, struggling to sit up, but Logan’s focus was locked on you. He pressed a hand against your side, where your ribs felt wrong under his touch. He could feel the heat of your blood seeping into his fingers.
“No, no, no…” Logan whispered, shaking his head. The storm raged around him, but all he could hear was the shallow rasp of your breathing.
You looked up at him, your gaze unfocused, but your lips curled into the faintest smile. “I told you… I’d rest…”
“Don’t,” Logan begged, his forehead pressing against yours. “Don’t do this. Stay with me. You hear me? Stay.”
You blinked slowly, your hand slipping from his coat. “I… tried…”
Logan clenched his jaw, biting down hard against the scream building in his chest. His healing mutation would keep him alive through anything—but it couldn’t save you. Not now. Not again.
He kissed your forehead, his breath shuddering. “I can’t lose you again, darlin’. Not like this…”
Your breath hitched once, then stopped.
“No,” Logan whispered, rocking you in his arms. “No, no, no…”
His hands trembled as he pulled you closer, your lifeless body limp against him. The rain poured down harder, drumming on the wreckage, but Logan didn’t care. He sat there, holding you, feeling the familiar, soul-crushing emptiness settle in his chest like an old wound tearing open again.
And still, he held you. Because this time, just like 26 years ago, he couldn’t let go.
in this chapter logan is 48 years old and reader is around 22-24 years old. just a reminder that going forward there is going to be an age gap between the two since logan obviously keeps getting older.
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#james howlett x reader#james howlett x you#logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fic#i love you in every time
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ive never liked powerless saiki aus because the entire conclusion of the series is him accepting his powers as being a part of him that he cant change so like.. in aus where the power remover works, half of his development is erased..
if he had been "powerless" for longer, we wouldve gotten to see him realize this himself and im genuinely sad that we didnt.. we got to see him realize that being powerless wasnt the change he wished it would be and that its something he cant change, but its literally over a two day long period and we miss out on sooo much potential development..
and then in aus where hes born powerless, people think he would have the exact personality and development that he THOUGHT he would if he got rid of/didnt have his powers, like NO ? "without powers he would be another satou-" NO he would be a shy, borderline flamboyant, weird, awkward, genius LOSER.
he would have a more normal relationship with his brother (still probably competitive but in a way more average sibling way and kusuke wouldnt have had the motivation to become so murderous) and he would probably be even more friendless but with less trauma.. he may or may not have ever befriended akechi at all, and the classroom incident wouldnt have happened.. even some of his current friends might not be around if not for coincidences due to his powers or direct involvement from his powers.. (nendo and kaido would for sure still be there though, but this only ensures the idea that he would be the biggest fcking loser ever)
he would still be saiki, but. his powers are a key part of him. he would be totally different without them, but NOT in the way he thinks he would..
#also realistically he would be just as much of a stubborn asshole tsundere without his powers cmon#like yea his anxiety might present itself more as shyness than it does in canon him#but hes still an awkward stubborn asshole tsundere like thats just who the guy is#hes extra shy and maybe extra cute without his abilities to make people not find him cute#and is also like extremely ditzy and clumsy like he is in canon but its more visible to people because he doesnt have the powers to hide it#idk the point is his little quirks he thinks he wouldnt have would still be there but he wouldnt have the same faux justifications for them#need canon saiki to see an alternate universe him where he was born powerless#and hes like 'wow im going to see my ideal average me!'#and then au him is some super quirky ditzy clumsy kid with severe anxiety and also dysphoria#and he doesnt have powers to avoid being bullied like we see him do multiple times#this guy doesnt realize he will always be a loser no matter what#he loses key parts of himself and doesnt even realize that a lot of the parts left behind are still parts of himself that he hates#i know a lot of people think he would be much less jaded powerless which i get but#a lot of aspects of his personality that have less to do with his powers are a lot of the parts that he doesnt like and gets made fun of fo#so he would probably only be slightly less jaded and his awkwardness would just weigh it out a little more#though its hard to pinpoint exactly which aspects of him are only due to his powers#a lot of them are but i personally think those specific key personality traits would remain#anyway i would love to see what his relationship with his family would be like if he was born powerless#and i want to know who his friends would be#saiki k#tdlosk#the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki kusuo#meows post
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alright you know what FINE horror cooks. even though he struggles with food and has a bad relationship with it sure he'll cook. but can we at least give him the liberty of getting to fuck around with people because of it ok FINE let me be specific i mean feeding other people dead remains and stuff ok 😒😒😒 ok 😒😒😒
oh so sweet he just made a five course meal and a fancy steak!!!! its gold plated!!!! it smells so good!!!! soooo delish and hmm a bit hard to chew but maybe he just made it a bit overcooked dont worry horror you tried your hardest. what do you mean you put blood sweat and tears into it with a oddly evil grin on your face. what is in my cup of water bro. what did I JUST EAT
#only if he really hates you or just really wants to see someone suffer#usually paps would be the 1 to make the food and he gets to enjoy the reaction#but UNFORTUNATELY papyrus is in horrortale and horrors in fuck knows where in the multiverse#so he has to make his own entertainment SMH#he might be fighting with himself the entire process of making the meal butttttttt#its all worth it to see the mortified and sickly expression people make before immediately wanting to throw up. so sweet!#he does this to dust and killer after they fight except its not human remains#he steals one of killer's dust jars and makes desserts with it! they just invented this cool new form of powdered sugar omg!#unfortunately it looks surprisingly convincing. dust doesnt know the difference#he immediately runs to the bathroom to throw up and take several showers to purge what hes done. goddamn WHO DID HE JUST EAT FUCK YOU HORRO#killer only knows the difference because he could feel the texture difference on his hands and tongue and it was too late LMAO#he did not smell anything he did not taste anything he did not see anything vaguely wrong#and like horror cooks all the time and the foods fine!!!! so like........ ok fine maybe hell eat it. and then he felt the taste#he doesnt swallow he doesnt do anything except turn his head and immediately spit the food out onto the ground (horror found this HILARIOUS#but the moment he was alone bro starting PUUUURGING his guts out. he knows exactly which dust jar horror took he knows EXACTLY WHO HE ATE#would be 10x funnier if horror used a papyrus's dust for it#but would he ever do that??? would he put himself through that???#i would like to think that horror's able to distinguish between his own papyrus and every other papyrus out there#for cruelty factor if hes able to get through it with that thought than yes#but i also get that he might not be able to go through with it bc its a papyrus's dust#horror's a bit of a prick perchance. just a bit tho maybe idk#downright evil actually. all of them are. but only to eachother#mtt upon thee i love these three#tricule hc#killer sans#dust sans#horror sans#murder time trio#utmv#sans au
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I think a lot of people don't support punitive justice on a governmental level (good), but they don't understand why punitive justice is overarchingly a bad thing, so they still operate with the idea that it's still the Best Option, but only when they can wield it.
Of course, there is a difference between a government having access to punitive justice and individuals or a small community having access to it, but the mindset is still strikingly similar. I've seen it time and time again where one's desire to destroy after even a small slight outweighs anything else, and that's alarming, actually. Yes, it's understandable, but I still don't think it is a healthy impulse or knee-jerk reaction for every minor affront.
#politics#i'm sure i talked about this before but it still strikes me as important#how exactly will everybody be helped by using the absolute extremes of 'justice'?#and because people only know punitive extreme forms of 'justice' that seems to be the only frame of reference they have...#...so when somebody proposes other methods of justice it is seen not unlike abuse or assault apologia or something extreme...#...because the nuance isn't there to recognize levels of severity in an action where punitive justice isn't going to work#and i'd argue that people are generally more invested in the perpetrator/s of abuse rather than the victims/survivors left in their wake#so people frame the discussion as Protecting Victims as a Class but really#ARE you helping us? and if so - what are you doing beyond going After Our Abuser/s?#people think it helps us to Go After The Abuser/s. much less do they think about *us* as people and what we need i think.#maybe its selfish of me but i know my abuser will never face any repercussions beyond people judging them slightly for what they did to me..#...so me personally i would rather people take their fury with my abuser (in my real life) and maybe invest it in myself and others...#...maybe hell will be waiting with open arms for them when they die. but i'm still going through hell because of them so i feel it's even#maybe i've just ~given up~ but i want to help people rather than immediately going After People#not everything CAN be solved with an eye for an eye. not everything SHOULD.
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I love taking care of people omggg 😍😍😍
#i love when i can go into nurse mode and get people what they need and run through the checklist of what helps#especially if i know the person because then i already have a handle on preferences or what they typically need#i have like. half a degree for a few things and i have a specific interest in physiology and psychology#i also used to really enjoy crisis management and peer support stuff but theres a lot of elements of that i cant do anymore#because the toll that shit takes is more than i can pay#specifically crisis related events#theres a lot I have to work through yet before i can manage those situations#anyway. my dream situation would be to work with someone to help them figure out what they need#like. assess the situation. find resources if needed. check on their ability to address basic daily tasks. make crisis plans.#start some basic dbt conversations and try to figure out what help they need and how to get it#i know some people dont want to go to a traditional psychiatrist or psychologist for whole host of extremely valid reasons#so being able to help them with self help or finding other alternatives. or just like. being a person they can regularly talk and vent to#because sometimes people don't have anyone. and just one person in their life can make a major impact#and like. its not exactly like therapy in that way. like i have the knowledge base to incorporate aspects of it in if wanted/needed#i think some people just need to be heard and that can help them move forward#and my goal isnt to like. transform you or whatever. there are people out there who need help but its hard to start#or it's difficult for them to access what they know they need#and i just want to meet people where theyre at and help them take enough small steps to being able to live how they want#like. harm reduction type shit. if you just need clean needles thats a step forward. and maybe its the only step they feel they need#to be happy. and now they can have a little bit of a safety.#like. a little more agency over how they want to live their life while improving quality of life#a step is a step man#anything that moves you toward the life you want counts#you deserve a win#the edible hit part way through so sorry if theres incomplete and tangential thoughts#also how can i do this shit for profesh??#i know similar jobs exist but theres a huge foundation of shit i just dont agree with built into them
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That one post of my mine predictably aged like fine wine. Never let somebody on comic twitter in the writer's room😭😭😭 Like imagine a 1 to 1 adaptation of literally any event?? -1b at the box office. "Who are these people???"
#Anywayyy I'm writing a retelling of DC and it is honestly so fun to imagine the characters in a new but familiar light#Like the biggest reason why I was never interested in writing fanfic before 2 months ago is because I never felt like those characters were#I felt... uncomfortable writing it not because i thought fanfic was bad or anything but because I felt it was weird to write for example#“XYZ DID THIS AND DID THAT AND DID THIS” like maybe he did?? I wouldn't know I don't know him like his creator!!!#But comic characters feel like more flexible due to the many interpretations over the years but firm enough where I can decide how to take#Certain traits and minimize them or expand on them#Also 1 to 1 adaptations suck balls to write. I'm not sure if that's universal but the whole fun of writing is coming up with new ideas#Writing a straight adaptation would be kind of writing a translation into a new medium. Which isn't bad. Novelization are literally those#But a common sentiment among writers I've seen is that Novelizations aren't that fun either unless you get to experiment either#Adapting comics into a new format and retelling them is kind of hell because you have all these intersecting plotlines and insane events#That's just tangled up in a story with a timeline that literally makes its contradictions into plot lines. But it's FUN coming up with ways#To condense a character's origin and sort of rewire it into the story you want to tell. Because yeah I think a lot of people miss is#that at end of the day#you tell stories about people and their struggles. You need to find a way to fit those moments of joy sadness love.#Like a movie about Jason Todd being RH will never be emotional as Jason Todd dying because you'll have less time to feel the love and pain#that Bruce felt for him. Like sure#flashbacks and exposition but that can only go so far. At the end of the day#It will always be about RH vs Batman. That's what people came to see. But that's not all Jason is. He was Robin before he was RH. A 1 to 1#Adaptation will never translate that to screen. Plus you (sadly) have shared universes now and a movie can only jump around in time so much#For example in my fic if I wanted to add Tim and faithful to his source material I would need to add so MUCH about Jason death#About like Bruce grieving without skipping all over that and missing the human element. It would severely mess up pacing.#I don't know i love how adaptations can make you see the characters in a new light or elevate the source material#Iwtv my beloved doesn't adapt the books exactly but reimagined in it a way that I like much more#Anyway this proves my point about comic fans being weirdly childish and omfg I hate to use this term...anti intellectual 😮💨😮💨😮💨#Everyone who writes or yknow reads should like understand this on a fundamental level. One to one adaptations are safe but boring.#Like the Psycho remake was bad not because it made bad changes but it barely made any changes.#Anyway watch amc iwtv to understand good adaptations better than your average comic stan on twtter#Not a rant I just love discussing adaptations#Long tags
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the way i play with Izzyverse is with every Izzy forming from a branching timeline- that they were all the same at some point, only one thing sent them off on the path to be "someones". some are obvious; Sam, Ed, Jack & Hornigold branch from the mutiny- a split second decision on who to go with, a miss timed hit leaving him in Hornigolds grasp- but the others are less so. how would he become Jackie's, or Ned's, or Anne and Mary's? what happens to make an Izzy Stede's? how do they even meet?
#for me; a stedes izzy has to form Early#before any relationships to ed or sam or anyone suited to his 'hard' life#because i think once hes caught in their orbit its pretty much game over. earth and moon#i dont think stede would stand a chance#i think. theyre kids. izzys been sailing for a few months. hes becoming a hardened pirate. but hes still really only 14/15#and theyre in port one day. and he runs into this 9/10 year old kid. its stede#hes lost; he was running from some bullies but now hes turned around and the suns going down#hes this scared little rich kid in a rough part of town and thats where izzy comes across him; hiding in an alley#behind some crates. now izzys not exactly tender of heart but he does have a particular soft spot for children#he remembers being that child. cowering behind crates. running for safety. maybe its not the same but he cant help but feel this kinship#with stede. so rather than walking by; he speaks to this child#where it goes from there? who knows. i dont think izzy would let baby stede run away to be a pirate#(even if he wants to) but maybe they figure out something else#something happens that drags izzy into his orbit. that makes him be owned by him#nyxtalks#ofmd#izzyverse#(i think it probably works better pre hornigold izzy but. in my set up thats the first time he sees the sea so. fuck me i guess)#made my own bed n all#ill probably rewrite up this tag bit. at some point#sorry this was on the mind#probably not interesting to anyone but meeeee
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Justice for jolyne wdym emporio defeated pucci
#can i say maybe i dont like where this is going bc i dont like the priest. like why not have dio do all this. i have to endure his boring#self while not having any motivation bc i still dont know why he wants to do all this bc that backstory doesnt justify anything#while dio is in the background and he has a motive to hate the joestars and create a world without them. idk#this is like light and near but unjustified#i would have prefered the priest resurrecting dio in some strange way than him doing all this i think#and i still dont like his powers ☝🏻 they dont make sense to me and the evolution doesnt either. how can you just flip stands.#also his rant about how he killed all his enemies... josuke and giorno are out there now lmao#retracting my statement they changed the opening but just this last episode#i do like the destiny stuff like the same thing happens in a new world bc of necessity and the whole plot has been about things happening#because it needs to happen but why does this reset need to happen??? why does pucci want it?? so everyone can be happy?? why??#literally nothing that happened to him has been the joestars fault. dio brainwashed him? ok SHOW IT#like the plot is okay but the priest doing all this makes no sense it could be anyone at this point#okay i get it now destiny is like gravity.... but his stands changing makes no sense still. the disc thing got out bc of the plant baby. ok#but the gravity just changed to something else entirely??? to time??#he kept repeating time and space but a space stand would be the hand. gravity is something else entirely#its not like velocity>acceleration or star platinum and the world velocity>time. that makes sense#gravity and time is like my stand makes anything into ice cream and then it makes things disappear#rant at this point but yeah#okay control. the priest wants to know exactly what is going to happen at all times to be prepared and evolve?? and why would dio want this?#weather report...... i mean it was meant to be#yeaaahhh emporio roast him#irene and anakiss ajdhaisjaisjakakakak#i might be crying but this doesnt change my pucci criticisms#the ending song..... incredible choice#i think i liked golden wind too much and i cant control myself and not compare#but pucci doesnt make sense to me here apart from being a priest and wanting to fulfill 'god's' purpose or whatever that means#so now there is a new world but with joestars but they dont have stands?? or just pucci doesn't exist (or dio)#so just the prison gang doesnt get them. but ermes didnt go to prison either. idk#talking tag#watching jojo
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Does ashe ever have to stop them from killing or serverly injuring someone?
not her circus not her monkeys as long as it doesnt put her in any danger she couldnt care less
#prime destroyers#THE WAVELENGTH WORLD VIEW BAYBEEE#like. does she WANT people to die? no. not really. is she going to go out of her way (if it has nothing to do with her or wont benefit her?#nah#i mean maybe early on when it comes to the shipments shes protecting#but honestly as long as everythings in order with the actual goods deosnt really matter aboiut the crew#theyre goons she isnt paid to make sure they live#and its not like the pd are exactly in the business of murder#except maybe. kota.#wight just wants a little chaos (and maybe some other stuff yknow) and virion is hoenstly here because he has no where else to be
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obviously late to the party on this like 9 years later and not saying anything that hasn't already been said but its sooo interesting going back and watching blind playthroughs of undertale bc its so funny how many of the people drawn to the game immediately fall into the very first pitfall set by it by being so unimaginative that they cannot imagine a game system existing that does not require grinding up levels even as they say to themselves they don't want to kill the characters AND the npcs reference the game mechanics TO them
#obviously its really hard to judge bc from my pov by the time i knew what undertale was in 2015 i already kinda knew how it worked#but its fascinating bc i only ever thought that people would choose to kill the monsters on purpose to get the no-mercy run#OR because they did it accidentally bc they encountered froggits before they got to the point where you are outright told that you can and#are encouraged to show mercy to anything with a yellow name#but ive watched a few people now who immediately get into the game and are somewhat engaging with the story? but on a completely different#level from using the mechanics of the game. theyre like “i dont want to kill this creature” on a story level but can't tie that to their#feelings of how the mechanics SHOULD work in their minds. the only game mechanics they know are Press Kill Button To Progress Forward.#so many of them are like “ahhh but i need xp tho... need to get to a higher lvl...” and its like... Why Exactly DO You Think That?#idk. its incredibly fascinating. its media literacy for video games. why do you think the fighting system and story are disconnected from#one another? so maybe ppl saying “aww this npc is so cuuuute” and then just kill them and im like. What do you THINK the ending is going to#be if this is how you think the game is going to be played? just unwillingness to attach themselves fully to the story. its soo interestin#gamers get away with a loooot when it comes to media literacy in the games they play#anyway alexa stream Conquest of Dread's decolonizing videogames video essay
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i've come to accept that i'm bad at writing romance, but at least i'm not as bad as the source material
#i hope anyways#most of the time ginny seems to have the same amount of presence as the twins#i checked and she has less even in 5th where she is mentioned more#its hard to tell how many times draco shows up because hes usually referred by last name#and his parents are also referred to by last name#seems to be less but then again he isnt living with harry so...#yknow i want to do ginny justice#just mentioning her doing things in the background isnt exactly going to cut it to make a convincing relationship#almost all those times she isnt even interacting specifically with harry or isnt alone in it#and her trauma from being possessed is hardly mentioned or dealt with until it is needed THREE BOOKS LATER to#tell harry to get over himself essentially#and then the jealousy....#my biggest gripe is the amortentia thing#like wow the thing that says they are in love must mean they are in love!#i think ginny and harry could work but it isnt fleshed out enough#and theres just that little bit of depth lacking which had brought the trio together#sure she fought in the final battle sorta and in the DoM but so did neville and luna#and genuinely neville could be a better love interest than her just bcuz of the prophecy thing plus he also#killed a horcrux which makes him ten times more plot relevant alone#ginny's role is a victim a sexy lamp and a support on the same level as literally half the others#i want to do her justice though considering how im changing the plot im not sure if i can#maybe the hat will say some things to her soon#hmmmm....#i have to reread the books at some point
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I don't talk about this stuff on here pretty much at all, but a past relationship really broke a ton of bits and pieces of my brain and heart in weird ways (I'm finally thinking about him almost never but the shit he pulled was abusive as hell and still affects me sometimes). Being in love with my current girlfriends for a while felt almost. Painful? Almost like I should be ashamed I can fall so deeply in love with people, and especially how quickly that can happen sometimes too. Thats how it kind of felt. I tend to get overwhelmed with emotions if I'm feeling them very strongly, and that has been extremely embarrassing and also felt almost like I was being a burden to those I love (which love is the main emotion that can 'get dialed up to 11' for me). It IS debilitating in some ways!!! It hasn't gotten bad enough I've been nonverbal in a really really long time but that happened this past week and it was wild to me.
Things are getting better now though! Therapy in the past has helped, and honestly having such patient and understanding partners has made a world of difference ;w;. my wife is someone who was one of my best friends and I had a huge crush on and now I can ask for cuddles and we can nap together and I've fallen so much in love. Her and her presence are literally heaven for me, I don't know if anything has ever made me happier than just laying next to her and feeling her warmth.
Worries of course flare up and I feel like I need to lean on her a lot during those moments, but I don't feel like too much of a burden to her. I love seeing the posts that say stuff like 'Its okay to be a burden' or 'its okay to be annoying' because really truly I think I need to be those things to survive sometimes. I can be 'a lot' and I can be a little bit obsessive and those things aren't inherently bad or evil of me. I just make sure I'm feeling okay during and after and make sure I'm checking in on myself often. I'm a bit of a broken girl, but that doesn't mean I'm not extremely happy and living a life I love. I've written poems and everything about how it feels like it must hurt to love me and my broken jagged edges, but hey, even if it does a little bit, it doesn't mean someone like my girlfriend/wife won't go through a little bit of burden to love me, and I'm more than happy to return all of this and more for her as well if she's ever in need or feels broken ;^;
#Not to be too gay but I wanna build my life with my princess more and more#She's. So good to me and she's so pretty and she's so beautiful and attentive and she listens to me in ways I feel no one else has#She understands me so well!! And I hopefully make her feel the same#But yeah I've been a burden a lot to people due to autism (which I didn't know I had for fucking ages) adhd and physical disabilites#And she feels like she isn't taking care of me which is good because I'd honestly hate that#But she understands me and makes me a better person and that's exactly what I've wanted for forever.#And being demi/aspec is awesome with her since she's aspec too and there's no pressure for sex or sexy times but if we both want it#It can still be super fun!! We gotta figure more of that stuff out if we want but knowing each others kinks (and sharing a good bit) rocks#Idk its so so so so easy to love my wife Maxie#She's so dear to me and we've only been dating for 4 months but they've been 4 months I've felt the most alive and seen#Its so easy to be cringe but free with her too idk#She makes me better and I hope I do the same for her. I don't want either of us to stagnate yknow?#But anyways yeah this is just a big journal entry of some kind I might do these every once and a while#Not to like. Brag??? I guess. Or show my mental illness so much. Its just kind of nice if friends know where I'm at in my life I guess#And idk having outside input on thoughts can be good. If any friends see this and go 'Hey Runa this is real weird maybe tone it down'#I can look at that stuff a bit more#Gonna tag this in a way I can find it and others in the future too#Runa diary logs#But yeah you're not hearing this from me but I wanna be with Maxine for the foreseeable future more than anything.#Gotta get my degree and a good job too and she's ofc not the only person in my life (I have Sara who is so very dear to me too ;w;)#Nor is she the only 'goal' I have either. I wanna make games I wanna make art. I wanna make something that other trans people#And queer people and just minorities in general can look at or play or experience and just go. Life is worth living#I love my life right now and I'm so glad I've made it to my late 20's.#Its only uphill from here :3#Wanna add on when I say she's not the only person in my life I mean that I have so many friends and people I love who love me too :3#♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
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Was about to go “Hm I should make proper family headcanons for my PMD canon partners” But remembered that two of them have established history in canon already and the third is my Shinx partner who I default to “They were part of the Luxio Tribe” for. So really Chip is the only one I can just make up a family for djfjfjfng
#tbh tho explorers partner just always gave me the vibe that they are not in contact with their parents#idk why theres not exactly w ton of evidence towards that but its what ive stuck to#even when vulpix was my assigned canon partner i still put her on bad terms with her family and still gave her conflicting feelings at home#anyways. chip just lives back home with his mom and brothers#his dad is off being a famous explorer and not acknowledging that he has kids anymore. sorry chip#… why is it that despite being the youngest child that i keep giving eldest child syndrome to my characters#echoed voice#pmd posting#i dont know if ill properly design elliotts parents but obviously they were a samurott and a swoobat#dont have anything in mind for them except for maybe a postgame idea where xey meet one of them finally?#and theyve maybe improved as a person and now that their kid is an adult they want to have some kind of relationship#and elliott. gives them a chance because xey dont want to hold grudges or anything but xey don’t acknowledge them as a parent#at best they just become a shopkeeper at paradise. emolga and virizion are the ones who hold the grudge#maybe eris too but hes also just tired at that point and acknowledges that its an attempt to be better#so hes definitely more civil#psmd partner. could have had bio parents that abandoned them ig bc reincarnation but i always imagined they just spawned into existence#like already hatched and curled in the scarves#and she has carracosta so idc much abt bio parents. the important bit is that he is pops#maybe if i decide to go with a totally different team for explorers ill do something different but idk djfjfjf#im half tempted to use the new starter rom i downloaded and use sprigatito and popplio tbh djdjfjfjfjf#but i also like playing it physically on my 3ds#and idk how to put romhacks on a physicsl cartridge#physical
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Just finished watching Gurren Lagann.
I feel like that ending was a troll move they were lining up from the beginning and I am laughing at it.
#Gurren Lagann#anime#okay here is my theory: you're supposed to hate Nia on like a knee-jerk reflex because of how she's introduced#but then you're supposed to get over it because Simon likes her quite a lot#unfortunately I kind of mentally subsist on spite so all I have to say to that is that they sure did deliver#an ending that I didn't realize I wanted#sorry Simon :P#Also wow my reaction to Kamina was exactly the same as my reaction to Bro Strider back when I read Homestuck#which is funny in its predictability#a little bit annoyed. a little bit turned on.#might have a new crack ship#Kind of glad I had G Gundam Homestuck and OG Gundam as a basis for comparison going in#damn the lack of commas#Don't think I'd have liked Kamina as much if I hadn't seen someone make fun of him first#Simon seems to have taken some pages from Domon's playbook as well as Kamina's by the end lol#I can kind of see now where a LOT of things that came out after 2007 take inspo from Gurren Lagann#it is very much an anime whose aesthetic embodies a lot of things associated with anime#also it runs on as much anime logic as they could fit inside it. misused science vocab and all :P#poor poor abused science vocabulary#I think I want to rewatch Promare next. Then maybe check out Gunbuster.#I'm also interested in watching GaoGaiGar but I don't know if the pacing is going to be difficult for me at the moment.
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dadson angst! dadson angst! I can't be the only ones who wants to take Balthier's suffering and make it even worse/hornier
Used by his father as a tool to further his own ends, pushed into a position of prestigious authority for the sake of his father's own climb up the rungs of power, and yet neglected as a child and a son throughout it all, because his father only had eyes for his research, not for the son he saw as the means to his ends....................
#incest cw#ffxii#i want to know exactly where balthiers breaking point was. exactly what cid was like by that point#if it took him feeling like cid was completely unrecognizable as a person#despite how bad he must have been from the beginning. for years beforehand. aaaaaaaaaaaaa#and the fact balthier runs because its painful to see his father so lost in nethicite!!!!!!!#having an emotional attachment that was never going to be reciprocated... but maybe he hoped it would one day#if he just worked hard enough to prove himself as a judge. to prove himself worthy of his father's efforts to elevate him into that positio#and then realizing that that day is never going to come. that things will only get worse#ok ok ok#rue plays ffxii#bunansacest#balthier#ashelia b'nargin dalmasca
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I loved this movie about nami and her ex situationship reconciling and also anti capitalism
#i have one question are the episode 0 of movies just fanservice am i reding this right. also zoro looks jealous and petty#can they in like love action make zoro chastize sanji bc he is an ally and not just letting him sound jealous and petty like i enjoy both#but clarificaiton sometimes you know. like sanji stop that its dehumanizing and disrespectful also i want you#why are they worried about money when they are in a casino. nami was great at playing cards wasnt she#franky and luffy bonding sumo time.... nami gets the title hell yeah lmao i have been saying she is the strongest#omg the children sellong flowers... dont tell me luffy is going to defeat capitalism in this movie. hell yeah#i was gonna say cant believe they let luffy bet but he does have good luck tho. the stomach ache lmao#sanji is so stupid akdjsksks the guy who likes pain also....don't let sanji think too much about it omg the golden dust....#zoro is going to be executed sanji and luffy are unlucky and all of them are broke and in debt. damn. how are you broke as a pirate even#nami and carina ex situationship talking about trusting each other again looking at the sunset... exactly#that was such a nasty betrayal and nami trusting her again so easily and fast like damn.#also what is the cp0 koala and sabo doing there like damn. jesus even#also what is absalom doing there....#and WHO let luffy infiltrate. FRANKY GOT IMPALED!! gold is really malleable and not resistant and strong like this is getting me out of it#sanji got a cleaning man fit instead of a cleaning lady fit so why is usopp wearing one ajdjaka.... i mean he is the crews babygirl....#also second movie where zoro gets kidnapped. the peoples princess.#omg they are in the pipes. also why is there pipe for the entry of seawater in a boat. maybe i don't know enough about boats#franky getting luffy out of the fan.... cradled like baby jesus for an instant#omg they have been bamboozled BY CARINA?????? OMG AGAIN??? NAMI!!!! OH NVM!!! WHAT???#luffy didnt know they were doing all this cause he would have fucked it up akshaua him being thrown half dead out of the tower ahsuakaia#this reminds me of super mario wii where bowser turns into a bigger bowser when you kill it. damn#also another good guy turned villain because of tragedy. two in a row#the kid with the metal pipe omg... sabo is coming#i heard hikken and the voice was so similar i wondered why ace was there.... for a millisecond he was there..... 😞#the red hawk and everything..... should we all kill ourselves.... omg carina didnt betray her actually#tesoro dumb asf for taking nami look how he is going down after that lmao didnt expect gear fourth tho. damn#still thinking about how gold isnt that strong so this shouldn't be necessary but alas shonen be shonen. luffy saving namis gf too <3#talking tag#watching one piece#watching one piece movies
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