#we had so many plans to experience the future together

[peachputang]

fuck

[pepprs]

not to keep liveblogging the retreat but it’s over now (it has been for most of the day). i cried so much today and it was amazing. im so sad and so happy and so relieved and so tired and so proud

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 2023 - nothing matters but you

chapter summary: The remaining X-Men come up with a plan to change their present; send Logan back in time to change the past.

word count: 17.1k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: oooohhhh boy!! i've been waiting for this chapter for so long and it's finally here! i'll have more to say at the end, but for now, and i truly mean it, enjoy!!! <3

warnings/tags: takes place during 'days of future past', dofp!logan, light miscommunication, angst, light violence, blood, character death, fluff, memory loss, happy ending!

series masterlist - chapter 10

The Blackbird landed on the top of the large mountain in front of a monastery. Ororo walked out first, followed by Logan, who paused at the bottom of the stairs to light his cigar, Charles, whose chair hovered down the stairs, and Erik.

They walked to the front of the monastery as Bobby spoke, “Professor.”

Ororo smiled, “Bobby.”

“Hey, Storm,” he replied, giving the woman a hug.

“Hey, kid.” Logan said.

“Professor,” Kitty called out. “You made it.”

The group made their way inside as Kitty explained how the group had been surviving, “Warpath spots them, and I send Bishop back to warn us of the attack before it happens. Blink scouts the next site, and… well, we leave before they ever know we were there.”

“Because we never were.” Bishop said.

“But what do you mean, you were never there?” Logan asked.

Charles looked over at Logan, “she projects Bishop back in time a few days to warn the others of the coming attack.”

“So she sends Bishop back in time?”

“No, just his consciousness into his younger self, his younger body.” Charles clarified.

“Wow.” Logan muttered.

“This might just work, Charles.” Erik commented.

“What might work?” Kitty questioned.

“The Sentinel program was originally conceived by Dr. Bolivar Trask. In the early ‘70s, he was one of the world’s leading weapons designers, but covertly, he had begun experimenting on mutants, using their gifts to fuel his own research. There was one mutant who had discovered what he was doing.” Charles explained.

“A mutant with the ability to transform herself into anyone.” Erik added.

“Mystique,” Peter said.

“I knew her as Raven. We met when we were children. Grew up together. She was like a sister to me. I tried to help her, but only succeeded in driving her away. She hunted Trask across the world, and at the Paris Peace Accords in 1973, after the Vietnam War, she found Trask. And killed him. It was the first time she killed.”

“It wasn’t her last.” Logan added on.

“But killing Trask did not have the outcome she expected. It only persuaded the government of the need for his program. They captured her that day. Tortured her. Experimented on her. In her DNA, they discovered the secrets to her powers of transformation. It gave them the key they needed to create weapons that could adapt to any mutant power, and in less than 50 years, the machines that have destroyed so many of our kind were created. But it all started that day in 1973, the day she first killed, the day she truly became… Mystique.” Charles finished.

“You want to go back there,” Kitty said.

“If I can get to her, stop the assassination, keep her out of their hands, then we can stop the Sentinels from ever being born.”

“And end this war before it ever begins.” Erik spoke.

“I-I can send someone back a couple weeks. I mean, maybe a month, but you’re talking about going back decades. You have the most powerful brain in the world, Professor, but the mind can only stretch so far before it snaps. It would rip you apart. I’m sorry. No one could survive that trip.” Kitty remarked.

“What if someone’s mind has a way of snapping back?” Logan asked. “What if someone can heal as fast as they’re ripped apart?”

---

Logan stood by the table as Charles, Erik, Kitty, and Bobby stood nearby, the rest outside of the monastery keeping watch.

“So I wake up in my younger body, God knows where. Then what?”

“You’ll need to go to my house and find me. Convince me of all of this.” Charles moved closer to Logan.

“Won’t you be able to just read my mind?”

“I didn’t have my powers in 1973. Logan, you’re going to have to do for me what I once did for you. Lead me, guide me. I was a very different man then. You’ll have to be patient with me.”

Logan scoffed, “patience isn’t my strongest suit.”

“You’ll need me as well,” Erik spoke up.

“What?” Logan turned to face Erik behind him.

“After Mystique left Charles, she came with me, and I set her on a dangerous path. Darker path. It’s going to take the two of us, side by side at a time when we couldn’t be further apart.”

Logan looked at Charles who nodded in affirmation, “great,” he muttered to himself. “So, where do I find you?”

“Well, it’s complicated.” Erik said, as Logan shook his head and stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

Logan got onto the table and lied down, Kitty sitting at the head of the table, “basically, your body will go to sleep while your mind travels back in time. Now, as long as you’re back there, past and present will continue to coexist, but once you wake up… whatever you’ve done will take hold and become history. And for the rest of us it’ll be the only history that we know. It’ll be like the last 50 years never happened. And this world, and this war… the only person who will remember it is you.” Kitty took a breath, “all right, Logan, I need you to clear your head and to stay as calm possible.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“If your mind gets rocky, it’ll be harder for me to hold you, and you could start to slip between past and future.”

“What if I need to get a little rocky?”

Kitty lightly shook her head, “think peaceful thoughts?”

“Peaceful thoughts.” Logan repeated. “You have any good news?”

“Well, I mean, you don’t really age, so you’ll pretty much look the same.”

Bobby spoke up, “you won’t have much time in the past. The Sentinels will find us. They always do.”

“And this time, we won’t be able to run. We’ll have no escape. This is our last chance.” Kitty’s hands hovered near the sides of Logan’s head.

“See you all soon.” Logan said.

“This might sting a little.”

---

Logan blinked, his vision adjusting to the dim, warm glow of the lava lamp. Its lazy, hypnotic bubbles drifted in the liquid, but his mind was racing to catch up. The sharp, immediate transition from the future to… this—the past, his past—had his senses momentarily disoriented.

The pressure against his neck snapped him into focus. An arm was draped over his shoulder from behind, soft, warm, and familiar. He shifted his head just enough to glance at the hand resting on his chest. It was delicate, but the grip was firm, like whoever it belonged to had no intention of letting him go.

“Mornin’,” your voice came from behind him, groggy and soft. Your tone was laced with the remnants of sleep but carried the easy, teasing warmth that always seemed to put him off guard.

His heart clenched. You.

You leaned into him slightly, pressing your cheek against his shoulder as you stretched, entirely unaware of the whirlwind in his head. The past, your face, the other you. The fact that he hadn’t seen this version of you in nearly 50 years.

“Didn’t think I’d need to pry you out of bed first,” you teased lightly, your hand giving his chest a playful pat before you settled again. “Usually, you’re already up before the sun, big guy.”

Logan’s jaw clenched at the nickname. His eyes narrowed at the room—a modest hotel room with vintage floral wallpaper and creaky wooden furniture—and the small pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. His leather jacket. Your dress. The pieces clicked into place far too quickly, but they didn’t make it easier to stomach.

He turned his head enough to catch sight of you, hair slightly messy, lips curled in a lazy grin. You were radiant in a way that didn’t match the world he’d just left behind. The world he’d come back to fix. And you had no idea how much he’d missed that expression.

“What’s with the look?” you asked, tilting your head. “Do I have something on my face, or are you just debating whether or not you’re gonna finish that cigar from yesterday?”

Logan shook his head slightly, clearing the fog. “Nah. Just… thinkin’.”

“You?” you quipped. “That’s dangerous.”

“Cute,” he replied dryly, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

You laughed and pulled back, sitting up against the headboard. Your expression softened when you caught a hint of the tension still lingering in his body. “You okay? You seem… off.”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting on the edge to gather himself. “Just didn’t sleep great.”

“You tossed and turned a lot,” you agreed, though your concern didn’t waver. “Another bad dream?”

Logan didn’t answer immediately. The memories of the future, the Sentinels, the war, and your other death pressed heavily on him. Instead, he grunted noncommittally and stood, grabbing his jeans from a chair nearby.

“Y’know,” you said behind him, watching as he pulled on his shirt, “most bodyguards don’t get that much real estate in their boss’s daughter’s bed.”

Logan froze for a beat before throwing you a glance over his shoulder. “Most bodyguards don’t sneak them outta her own wedding either, darlin’.”

You grinned mischievously, leaning your head back against the headboard. “Guess that makes us even.”

He shook his head but couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped. You haven’t changed a bit.

Before either of you could say anything more, there was a sharp knock on the door. Logan’s entire body tensed, his senses sharpening instantly. He sniffed the air, picking up the distinct scents of sweat, leather, and gunpowder.

“Stay here,” he said lowly, grabbing his jacket and stepping toward the door.

“Logan, what—”

“I mean it,” he said, cutting you off with a firm glance. The tone in his voice told you not to argue.

He moved toward the door, his hand hovering over the knob as his other reached behind him for the small knife he kept tucked into his waistband. He opened the door slightly, just enough to peer through the crack.

Two men stood in the hall, dressed in dark suits. Their faces were sharp, unfamiliar, but their eyes carried an unmistakable menace.

“Can I help you?” Logan asked gruffly.

“Yeah,” one of them said. “We’re here for the lady. Her father’s lookin’ for her.”

Logan didn’t hesitate. He slammed the door shut and locked it, spinning back toward you. “Get down,” he barked.

“What’s going on?” you asked, but the urgency in his voice made you scramble off the bed.

The door shuddered as one of the men kicked it. Logan growled low in his throat, adrenaline surging as his hands instinctively balled into fists. Bone claws erupted from his knuckles with a sickening snikt, and he turned toward the door just as it splintered inward.

Your sharp gasp filled the room, but there was no time for questions. Logan launched himself at the first man, driving his claws deep into the guy’s shoulder. Blood sprayed across the room as the second man raised a gun, but Logan was faster. He yanked his claws free and swung, knocking the weapon from the man’s hand before driving his claws into his stomach.

It was over in seconds, but the aftermath left the room in chaos. Logan stood over the bodies, his breathing heavy, his shirt streaked with blood. His claws glistened in the dim light, and as he turned toward you, his expression softened.

“Logan…” you whispered, your voice shaking. Your eyes were wide, fixed on the bone claws still protruding from his hands.

He hesitated, then retracted them with a shudder, the wounds on his knuckles sealing themselves almost instantly. “I can explain,” he said gruffly.

“You—you just…” You couldn’t find the words.

“Y/N,” he said, stepping toward you carefully. “I need you to trust me.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. The man you thought you knew had just turned into something else entirely—but it wasn’t fear that kept you rooted in place. It was the way he was looking at you, desperate, protective, like he’d go through hell just to keep you safe.

“I…” You took a shaky breath. “I trust you.”

Logan’s shoulders sagged in relief, though the tension in the room didn’t dissipate. He grabbed a bag from the corner of the room and tossed it toward you. “We need to move. Now.”

Before you could question him further, he bent down, rummaging through the man’s jacket pocket to snag the keys before heading for the door. You hesitated, your mind still racing to process what you had just seen. The claws, the blood, the sheer force he used to take out armed men—it was like something out of a nightmare. But Logan wasn’t the nightmare. He was the only constant in this whirlwind you called your life.

“Y/N,” Logan’s voice broke through your haze. He was standing by the door, his tone sharp but not unkind. “Let’s go. Now.”

You shoved a few belongings into the bag, still half-dressed from sleep, and moved quickly to his side. “Logan, what the hell is goin’ on?”

“I’ll explain later,” he said, keeping his voice low and his gaze locked on the hallway as he peeked out. “For now, we’ve gotta put some distance between us and whoever else your father’s sent after you.”

Your stomach twisted at the mention of your father, but you followed him out of the room, clutching the strap of the bag tightly. “How did they even find us?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care,” Logan muttered, leading you down the narrow hallway. His shoulders were rigid, his entire body coiled like a spring. “What matters is keeping you outta their hands.”

The two of you reached the stairwell, and Logan paused at the top, scanning the area below. He tilted his head, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air. Whatever he smelled didn’t seem to calm him, but he motioned for you to follow anyway.

You descended the stairs as quietly as you could, your bare feet barely making a sound against the worn carpet. “Logan, seriously, you need to tell me what’s going on. Those… claws, or whatever—”

“Not now, sweetheart,” he interrupted, his voice tense but firm. “We’ve gotta focus on getting outta here.”

You bit your lip, frustration bubbling under your skin. This wasn’t the first time Logan had dodged your questions, but after what you’d just seen, you weren’t about to let it slide for long.

The two of you slipped out a side door into the cool morning air. The parking lot was mostly empty, save for a few scattered vehicles. Logan made a beeline for a black sedan parked near the edge of the lot. He unlocked the door and ushered you inside without a word.

“Logan—” you started as he slid into the driver’s seat, but he cut you off again.

“Buckle up,” he said, starting the engine.

You shot him a glare but did as he said, snapping the seatbelt into place. Logan peeled out of the lot, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as his eyes flicked between the road and the rearview mirror.

For a few minutes, the only sound was the hum of the engine and the faint thud of your heartbeat in your ears. You watched him closely, noting the way his jaw clenched and his knuckles turned white around the wheel.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on now?” you finally demanded, crossing your arms. “Because I think I deserve an explanation after that little… display back there.”

Logan let out a slow breath through his nose, his eyes still on the road. “It’s complicated.”

“No kidding,” you shot back. “Start with the claws. What the hell are they, Logan? And don’t tell me they’re some kind of freak weapon because I saw them come out of your hands.”

He glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable. “They’re a part of me,” he said simply.

You blinked, taken aback by the matter-of-fact tone in his voice. “What do you mean, ‘a part of you’? Like, you were born with them?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he muttered.

You stared at him, waiting for more, but he didn’t elaborate. Frustration bubbled over, and you leaned forward, grabbing his arm. “Logan, I’m serious. I need answers.”

He sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly as he finally looked over at you. “I’ll tell you everything, sweetheart. Just not right now. Right now, we’ve gotta focus on getting somewhere safe.”

“And where’s that?” you asked, your voice softening slightly.

“A place I know,” he said, turning his attention back to the road. “We’ll head north, get outta the city, and figure it out from there.”

You frowned, unsure whether to trust his vague assurances. But the look in his eyes, the raw determination mixed with something you couldn’t quite place—it was enough to quiet your doubts for now.

“Fine,” you said, leaning back in your seat. “But you owe me the truth. All of it.”

Logan smirked faintly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’ve always been a tough one, huh?”

“Damn right,” you muttered, crossing your arms again. But despite your defiant tone, a small part of you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something else—something warm and familiar—when he called you tough.

You didn’t notice the way his grip on the wheel tightened at your response or the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly. To you, this was just another chaotic morning in the whirlwind of your life. But to Logan, it was a painful reminder of how many mornings like this he’d lost with you.

---

You tapped your fingers on your thigh, still waiting for Logan to come out of this mansion, which looked like it had seen better days.

You groaned as you tilted your head back, adjusting yourself in the car seat. It had been a while since Logan left the car and went inside, almost 2 hours. You would know, you’ve been watching the clock.

Finally, Logan stepped outside and briskly walked to the car door, opening it for you. “Jesus, what took so long?” You asked, as he grabbed your bag from the backside and guided you into the house where two other men were, one with glasses, the other with long curly hair. “Logan-?”

“You’re staying here.” He stated.

You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes narrowing at Logan. “What?” you demanded. “You said we’d figure this out together. You didn’t say anything about leaving me here.”

Logan ran a hand through his hair, already looking stressed. “Plans changed, darlin’,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “Charles and Hank are comin’ with me. We’ve got somethin’ to take care of, and it’s safer if you stay here.”

“Safer? Logan, this place is the size of a damn castle!” You gestured around the massive entry hall, frustration spilling over. “You’re just gonna leave me here by myself? What if they come for me again? What am I supposed to do then?”

“You won’t be alone,” Charles interjected, his tone measured but polite. He glanced briefly at Logan, as if trying to gauge how much to say. “This house has a number of protections. You’ll be secure here.”

“Secure from who?” you fired back, your eyes darting between the two men. “You all keep throwing words around like ‘safe’ and ‘protected,’ but you won’t tell me from what!”

Logan stepped closer, his voice softening. “Y/N, I know you’ve got questions, and I know this ain’t easy, but trust me. If I thought for a second there was a better way to keep you outta harm’s way, I’d do it.”

You stared at him, trying to ignore the way his voice—the way he called you by name—seemed to ease some of the tension in your chest. But it wasn’t enough. “You always do this,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “You make decisions for me like I’m some fragile little doll. I’m not helpless, Logan.”

“I know that,” he said quickly, his gaze locking onto yours. “But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna take chances with you.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, shaking your head. “And where exactly are you going that’s so important you can’t tell me?”

Logan hesitated, his jaw tightening. He glanced at Charles, who gave him a slight nod. “We’ve gotta stop someone,” Logan finally said, his voice low. “Someone who’s about to make a big mistake.”

“That’s it?” you asked, your frustration rising again. “That’s all you’re gonna give me?”

“That’s all you need to know right now,” Logan replied. He reached out, his hand brushing against your arm. “Look, I promise I’ll explain everything when I get back. But for now, I need you to trust me.”

You stared at him, your chest tight with a mix of anger and something softer, something you didn’t want to name. “Fine,” you said at last, pulling away from his touch. “But don’t expect me to be happy about it.”

Logan smirked faintly, though his eyes were serious. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Charles cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Y/N, I understand this is a lot to take in, but I assure you, this is the safest course of action for now. Hank and I will only be gone for a short while.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, glancing at him briefly. “You better be.”

Logan nodded at Charles, then turned back to you. “There’s food in the kitchen, and plenty of space to stretch out. Don’t open the doors for anyone but me or them. Got it?”

You rolled your eyes but nodded. “Got it.”

Logan hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but then he turned and followed Charles and Hank toward the door. You watched them leave, the sound of the heavy door closing echoing in the empty mansion.

For a long moment, you stood in the middle of the entry hall, clutching your bag and trying to process everything that had just happened. Finally, you let out a heavy sigh and slung the bag over your shoulder.

“Guess I’m on my own,” you muttered, heading deeper into the mansion to figure out how the hell you were supposed to pass the time in this massive, empty house.

---

It didn’t take long for you to get bored, even in a place as massive as this. From what you gathered during your first walkthrough, this mansion had likely been a boarding school at some point. The classrooms, rows of bedrooms, and an enormous kitchen all hinted at its past. But now, it was eerily quiet—like a castle frozen in time.

You wandered aimlessly, peeking into rooms and finding nothing but empty desks, dust-covered books, and a growing sense of restlessness. The longer you roamed, the more your mind churned over Logan’s sudden departure. You didn’t want to admit it, but his absence had left a void—a nagging worry that you couldn’t shake.

You sighed, stopping in front of a wide window overlooking the overgrown courtyard. What am I even doing here? you thought. Your fingers tapped against the windowpane as you chewed the inside of your cheek. Maybe you should’ve pushed harder for answers instead of letting Logan sidestep your questions—again.

The faint hum of a clock ticking in the hallway was the only sound accompanying your thoughts. It wasn’t enough to drown out the memories of Logan’s claws unsheathing back at the hotel or the unspoken tension in his voice when he said, “you won’t be alone.”

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, turning away from the window. “Stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing but cryptic warnings and empty rooms.”

You wandered back to the kitchen, hoping to find something to pass the time. The fridge was surprisingly well-stocked, and you made yourself a quick sandwich. As you ate, your gaze drifted toward the doorway, half expecting Logan to stride through it with that familiar scowl on his face.

But the doorway remained empty.

With a groan, you pushed the plate away and leaned back in the chair. “This sucks,” you muttered.

The silence pressed against your ears as you sat there, tapping your fingers on the table. You couldn’t help but think back to Logan’s expression when he’d left. There was something in his eyes—something heavy, like he was carrying more than just the weight of keeping you safe. He always did that, didn’t he? Took on the burden for everyone else, even if it meant shutting you out.

You stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. No more sitting around like a damsel in distress, you decided. If Logan was off dealing with whatever ‘big mistake’ he’d mentioned, you’d figure out how to occupy yourself in the meantime.

---

A while later, you found yourself back in one of the old classrooms. The chalkboards were dusty, and the desks were in varying states of disrepair, but it was oddly comforting in a way. You sat down at one of the desks and fiddled with a piece of chalk, drawing random lines on the board in front of you.

The quiet of the mansion felt oppressive. Every creak of the old wood or groan of the structure made your heart skip a beat. You weren’t sure if it was just your imagination playing tricks on you or if there was something more sinister lurking in the silence.

You sighed, leaning back in the chair. “Why’d you leave me here, Logan?” you muttered to yourself. The question hung in the air, unanswered, like so many others he’d dodged over the months.

As you stared at the lines you’d absentmindedly drawn, you thought back to your father. His control over your life had been suffocating, but this—running, hiding, fearing what might come next—was a different kind of prison. Logan had promised to protect you, but how could he if he wasn’t here?

A sudden noise in the hallway snapped you out of your thoughts. You froze, the piece of chalk slipping from your fingers and clattering onto the desk.

“Logan?” you called out, your voice trembling slightly. There was no response.

You rose slowly from the desk, your heart pounding in your chest. The sound came again—closer this time. It wasn’t the creak of the old mansion settling. It was deliberate, like footsteps.

You moved toward the door, peeking into the hallway. It was empty, but the faint sound of movement reached your ears from somewhere deeper in the house.

“Logan?” you tried again, your voice firmer.

Still nothing.

Clutching your jacket sleeve tightly, you stepped into the hallway, your bare feet silent against the worn wooden floors. The air felt colder somehow, and the shadows seemed to stretch longer.

You made your way toward the source of the noise, your pulse quickening with every step. Part of you wanted to turn back, to lock yourself in one of the rooms and wait for Logan to return, but you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something wasn’t right.

As you rounded the corner, you saw them. Men in dark suits, their faces obscured by the dim lighting. There were at least four of them, moving methodically through the mansion as if they knew exactly where to look.

Your breath caught in your throat. They weren’t here by accident.

You turned quickly, intending to retreat and find a place to hide, but it was too late. One of the men spotted you, his sharp eyes locking onto yours.

“She’s here!” he barked, and the others turned toward you immediately.

Panic surged through your veins as you broke into a sprint, your bare feet barely making a sound against the floor. You didn’t know where you were running, only that you had to get away.

“Stop her!” one of them shouted, and the sound of heavy footsteps followed you.

You darted into another hallway, your mind racing. You needed a plan, a way out, but the labyrinthine mansion offered no clear escape routes.

A hand suddenly grabbed your arm, yanking you backward. You let out a startled cry, struggling against the grip.

“Let go of me!” you screamed, kicking and clawing at the man holding you.

He grimaced but held firm, dragging you toward the others. “Stop fighting, or this gets messy,” he growled.

“Like hell it does,” you spat, managing to stomp on his foot hard enough to make him loosen his grip.

You broke free, stumbling forward, but another man was already there. He grabbed you by the waist, lifting you off the ground despite your thrashing.

“Let me go!” you shouted, your voice echoing through the empty halls.

“Enough!” a voice barked, and the men froze.

A figure stepped out of the shadows—an older man with a cold, calculating expression. You recognized him immediately. One of your father’s men.

“Miss Y/N,” he said smoothly, his tone dripping with false politeness. “Your father’s been worried sick about you.”

“Bullshit,” you snapped, glaring at him. “He doesn’t care about me.”

The man chuckled, a low, menacing sound. “Whether he cares or not isn’t really the issue, is it? You belong to him. And he’s decided it’s time you came home.”

“Over my dead body,” you shot back, your voice defiant even as fear coiled in your chest.

The man’s smile widened, and there was something cruel in his eyes. “If that’s what it takes.”

You struggled harder, but the men holding you were too strong. They began dragging you toward the exit, your cries for help swallowed by the vast emptiness of the mansion.

In that moment, a horrible realization settled over you. Logan wasn’t here to save you.

And this time, there was no escape.

---

The room was dim, lit by a single, flickering bulb swaying overhead. The scent of mildew clung to the air, mixing with the metallic tang of rust from the pipes along the walls. You blinked groggily, your head pounding as the events leading up to this moment replayed in your mind.

Interrogation, then murder. That’s how these things went. You knew it, had known it since you were a child sitting quietly at the top of the stairs, listening in on conversations you weren’t supposed to hear. The Romano family didn’t forgive betrayal, and neither did your father.

Your wrists ached where the rough ropes dug into them, tying you to the chair. The metal groaned beneath your weight as you tried to shift, testing the bindings. No give. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.

From the shadows, the men emerged one by one, their faces a mix of familiarity and dread. You recognized some from your father’s estate—men who had once tipped their hats to you out of respect, now staring at you like a wolf pack eyeing its prey. Among them was Clyde Romano, his sharp suit immaculate despite the grim surroundings.

“Well, well,” Clyde drawled, adjusting his cuffs as he stepped closer. His cold eyes gleamed with a mixture of triumph and disdain. “You’ve been a busy little runaway, haven’t you?”

“Fuck you, Clyde,” you spat, your voice steadier than you expected.

He smirked, leaning in until you could feel his breath against your cheek. “Bold words for someone in your position. But that’s always been your problem, hasn’t it? Too much mouth, not enough sense.”

One of the men chuckled darkly, and you shot him a glare sharp enough to cut.

Clyde straightened, motioning for the others to spread out. “See, Y/N, this could’ve all been so simple. You play the good little bride, marry into the family, and keep your mouth shut. But no. You had to run. Had to embarrass your father. And me.”

“Embarrass you?” You barked out a bitter laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were your fragile little feelings hurt because I didn’t want to be your trophy wife?”

Clyde’s smile faltered, his jaw tightening. He nodded toward one of his men, who stepped forward and struck you across the face. Pain exploded along your cheek, sharp and hot.

“Watch your mouth,” Clyde hissed.

You turned your head back slowly, your vision swimming. Blood trickled from the corner of your lip, but you smiled through it, defiant. “That all you’ve got?”

Clyde’s expression darkened, and he stepped closer, gripping your chin roughly. “You’re real brave for someone who doesn’t have a way out.”

Your stomach twisted at the truth of his words, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing fear in your eyes. “Better to die standing than live on my knees,” you shot back.

“Your boyfriend isn’t here to save you, sweetheart,” he said casually, his tone laced with mockery. “What was his name? Logan?”

Your heart clenched at the sound of his name, but you kept your face blank.

“He left you,” Clyde continued. “Just like everyone else will. Because you’re not worth the trouble.”

“That so?” you bit out. “Then why are you here?”

He stopped, looking over his shoulder with a smirk. “To clean up the mess you made.”

Clyde stepped back, giving a subtle nod to one of the men. The air seemed to thicken as the man pulled a knife from his belt, the blade glinting in the weak light.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t look away. If this was the end, you’d meet it head-on, with your head held high.

“Any last words?” Clyde asked, his tone almost bored.

You swallowed hard, the weight of everything pressing down on you. The memories of Logan’s rough hands holding yours, his gruff voice calling you darlin’ in that way that made your chest ache, his eyes softening in those rare moments when he let his guard down.

You thought of him now—miles away, caught up in something you couldn’t begin to understand. If he were here, he’d fight. He always did. But this time, you were on your own.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill. “Go to hell.”

Clyde tilted his head, unimpressed. The man with the knife stepped forward, and you clenched your fists, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

The blade gleamed, catching the light one last time before it plunged toward you.

And then, there was only darkness.

---

Logan paced the bedroom; he had known something was off the second they got back. For one, you were nowhere in the mansion and your bag was sitting on the couch in the rec room.

Hank hesitantly stood by the doorframe for a few moments before speaking, “there’s a theory in quantum physics that time is immutable.” Logan paused his pacing as Hank continued, “it’s like a river—you can throw a pebble into it, create a ripple, but the current always corrects itself. No matter what you do, the river just… keeps flowing in the same direction.”

Logan let out a small scoff, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a fleeting smile. “The B-theory of time.”

Hank blinked, his brows furrowing. “You’re familiar with it?”

Logan shrugged, leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed. “Yeah, I’ve heard it before. Someone once tried explaining it to me—something about all moments in time existing simultaneously. Past, present, future, all laid out like pages in a book.” He tilted his head, his gaze hardening. “Didn’t make it sound any less screwed up.”

Hank tilted his head slightly, caught off guard. “That’s a fairly accurate summation, Logan. I’m… surprised you retained that much.”

Logan’s lips twitched again, but his eyes darkened with a tinge of something that looked like regret. “Good teacher,” he muttered, his voice low. His mind flicked back to the quiet hours spent with you in the rec room at the mansion, your voice steady as you explained the theories of time and space with the kind of patience that used to drive him insane. “Good teacher,” he repeated, softer this time.

Hank didn’t press the matter, though curiosity lingered in his expression. Instead, he adjusted his glasses and continued. “Right. Well, the theory suggests that no matter how many changes we attempt to make, the timeline has a way of self-correcting. That ripple you caused? It’ll still flow back into the current, Logan. That’s why it’s imperative you stay focused on the larger mission—on stopping Mystique before—”

Logan cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand. “I know, McCoy. Believe me, I get it.” His voice was rougher now, frustration creeping into his tone. “But I can’t just stand here and do nothing. She’s out there—alone—because of me.” His jaw clenched, the muscles tightening like a vice. “I should’ve stayed with her.”

“And then what?” Hank countered, his voice measured but firm. “Thrown yourself headfirst into whatever danger awaits her without a plan? Gotten yourself killed before you even had the chance to stop Mystique? Would that have helped her, Logan? Or anyone else?”

Logan exhaled harshly, raking a hand through his hair. He hated when Hank was right—hated it even more because staying put went against every instinct he had. He’d lost you too many times before, and the idea of it happening again, here in this warped timeline, made his chest feel like it was caught in a vice.

“Look,” Hank said after a pause, his tone softening. “You’re not doing her—or yourself—any favors by acting recklessly. We need you tomorrow at the hearing. Mystique’s actions will set off a chain reaction if we don’t intervene, and that means we need all hands on deck.” He gave Logan a pointed look, then hesitated before adding, “Besides, the Y/N I met didn’t strike me as someone who’d go down without a fight.”

Logan’s gaze snapped to Hank, sharp and unyielding. “What’d you say?”

Hank shifted uncomfortably. “I mean… she was a little out of her element, sure, but she seemed resourceful. Strong-willed. Determined. She’s not just going to sit around waiting to be rescued, Logan.”

Logan’s shoulders relaxed slightly at Hank’s words, though his face remained guarded. He knew you—knew that fire inside you, even in this lifetime. You’d been through hell and still managed to crack that crooked smile, to tease him when he was too gruff for his own good. If anyone could find a way out of a bad situation, it was you.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried sick.

“She’s got guts,” Logan muttered, almost to himself. “Too much, sometimes.”

Hank adjusted his glasses again, watching Logan closely. “Then trust her to hold her own until we can deal with this together. Running off now would be counterproductive and, frankly, reckless.”

Logan let out a low growl of frustration, but he didn’t argue further. Deep down, he knew Hank was right. If he ran out of here now, he’d jeopardize everything—not just the mission, but the fragile thread of hope that had brought him to this point.

Still, the ache in his chest wouldn’t subside. It never did, not when it came to you.

“She’d better be okay,” he muttered, more to himself than to Hank. “Or I’ll—” His voice caught, and he shook his head. “Never mind.”

Hank didn’t respond immediately. He just watched as Logan sank into the chair by the window, his gaze distant.

For now, all Logan could do was wait.

---

Logan woke up to the sun shining through green curtains as he lay on his side, clutching his pillow. He turned over to look at the holographic clock on the other side of the bed, a stack of books on the table along with a single pen.

“The first time, ever I saw your face.”

He sat up, groggy as he looked at the familiar gold doorknob.

“I thought the sun,” Logan stood up and opened the door as a school bell rang and a kid walked out of their room. “Rose in your eyes.” He saw Bobby standing against a door frame as Rogue walked out and grabbed his hand, the two of them glancing over at Logan before walking away.

Logan walked by a classroom where Kitty was at the head of the room, a hologram in her hands, “Buckminster Fuller is a great example of an architect whose ideas were very similar to those of a utopian future. He would build structures that would work with nature, versus against it.”

He looked down the hall as Beast walked past him, clad in a brown suit, “morning, Logan. Late start,” he chuckled, as Logan watched him walk by.

Logan then walked down the stairs, seeing students converse with Storm. He continued his way down the stairs and into the open area, seeing familiar red hair leaning against the Professor’s open door.

Jean turned to look at him, “hey, Logan,” she softly called out as he glanced her way and back down the other hallways.

He saw a group of students walking huddled together before splitting apart briefly as you walked past them.

Logan’s breath hitched as you walked past the group of students, your hair catching the light streaming through the mansion’s tall windows. You didn’t notice him immediately, too focused on the stack of papers in your arms and the pen tucked behind your ear. He froze in place, his heart pounding like it hadn’t in years—decades, even.

You glanced up just as you passed him, pausing mid-step when your eyes met his. There was warmth in your gaze, that familiar spark he’d seen so many lifetimes ago, but this time it wasn’t tinged with hesitation or confusion. It was easy. Natural.

“There you are,” you said, a small smile gracing your lips as you adjusted the papers in your arms. “I was about to come looking for you. Late morning?”

Logan stared at you for a beat too long, the sound of your voice wrapping around him like a long-lost melody. He blinked, clearing his throat and trying to push past the lump that had formed there. “Yeah... guess so.”

Your smile widened, though your brow furrowed just slightly. “You okay, Lo?” you asked softly, stepping closer.

He managed a nod, though his throat felt tight. “Yeah, just... uh, still waking up, I guess.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying him in that way you always used to when something seemed off. “Well, if you’re awake enough, maybe you could help me wrangle some of the kids for class?” You gestured toward the papers in your arms. “I need to grab a few more things, and Laura’s been trying to skip out on physics again. You didn’t even budge when the alarm went off this morning, but you’re lucky Scott owed you a favor, so he covered your history class—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence when Logan’s arms wrapped around you, his hold firm but not crushing. His head burrowed into the crook of your neck, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to pause. You blinked, startled, the stack of papers in your arms wobbling precariously before you instinctively steadied them against your chest.

“Logan?” you asked softly, your voice tinged with concern and confusion. “What’s going on?”

He didn’t answer right away. His breathing was heavy, his body tense against yours as though he was clinging to something—or someone—he thought he’d lost. The warmth of his presence, his scent of leather and pine, was familiar, but this intensity was new.

You let the silence hang for a moment, your free hand instinctively lifting to rest on his shoulder. “Lo,” you tried again, your tone softer now, laced with the kind of patience that only years together had nurtured. “Talk to me.”

Logan pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, but his hands remained firm on your waist. His eyes were wild, scanning your face like he was searching for proof that you were real. For a fleeting second, you caught something raw in his expression—something vulnerable.

“You’re here,” he muttered, almost to himself. His voice was hoarse, as though he hadn’t spoken in days. “You’re… really here.”

Your brows knitted together as you tilted your head, trying to piece together what could have possibly spurred this reaction. “Of course I’m here,” you said with a small, hesitant laugh, your hand sliding from his shoulder to his cheek. “Where else would I be?”

Before Logan could respond, the unmistakable sound of small, hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. A high-pitched voice followed, cutting through the moment like a pebble skipping across still water.

“Daddy!”

Logan froze. His hands fell away from your waist as a little girl with dark hair barreled toward the two of you, her pigtails bouncing with each step. She clung to Logan’s leg without hesitation, looking up at him with the wide, innocent eyes of someone who knew no fear or doubt.

Gabby.

The name surfaced in Logan’s mind like a fragment from a dream, though it came with no context—no memories to anchor it. He stared down at the child, his breath catching as she grinned up at him.

“Daddy, I found you!” she declared triumphantly, like it was a great accomplishment. “Laura said you were being slow again.”

You chuckled softly, crouching down to ruffle Gabby’s hair. “What did we say about calling your dad slow?” you teased gently, though there was no real reprimand in your tone.

Gabby giggled, leaning into your touch. “Only when it’s funny?”

“Exactly,” you replied with a smirk before standing again and glancing at Logan, who still hadn’t moved or spoken. “Lo, you okay?” you asked again, your concern deepening.

Logan’s gaze flicked between you and Gabby, his chest tightening. The ring on your finger caught the light as you moved, and for the first time, he noticed it—the familiar band of gold he’d carried for over a century.

His heart stuttered. You’re wearing it.

“Logan?” you pressed, stepping closer again. Gabby, still holding onto his leg, tilted her head in confusion.

Logan swallowed hard, forcing himself to push past the whirlwind in his mind. “Yeah,” he rasped, his voice strained but steady enough. “I’m fine.”

You didn’t look convinced, but you didn’t push him. Instead, you nodded toward the stack of papers in your arms. “You sure? Because if you’re about to have an existential crisis, I need you to hold off until after you help me track down Laura. Deal?”

Logan blinked, your teasing tone pulling him out of his daze. He managed a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Deal.”

Gabby tugged at his pant leg, her face scrunched in determination. “Daddy, can we get pancakes after? Laura said she’d eat ten, but I bet I could eat twelve.”

You snorted softly, looking between Gabby and Logan with an amused smile. “You’re not actually gonna let her eat twelve pancakes, are you?”

Logan’s lips twitched, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’ll see,” he said gruffly, his mind still miles away as he tried to make sense of everything.

You gave him another look, your brows furrowing slightly, but you let it go for now. “Come on,” you said, shifting the papers in your arms. “Let’s get this day started.”

As you turned to lead Gabby toward the stairs, Logan lingered for a moment, his eyes fixed on the gold band on your finger. His thoughts churned, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like a heavy fog.

He needed answers. And he knew exactly who to talk to.

---

Logan pushed open the door to Charles’s office without knocking, his usual roughness softened just enough by the turmoil bubbling beneath his skin. Charles, sitting calmly at his desk with his hands folded, looked up with a raised brow.

“Logan,” Charles greeted, his tone patient but curious. “I wasn’t expecting you so early. Is everything alright?”

Logan stepped inside, closing the door behind him before glancing over his shoulder. He needed to make sure you hadn’t followed. When he was satisfied, he turned back to Charles, his jaw tightening.

“No,” Logan said simply. “We need to talk. Now.”

Charles’s brow furrowed, and he gestured to the chair in front of him. “Please, sit. Tell me what’s troubling you.”

Logan ignored the chair, pacing instead. “I woke up this morning, and I—” He dragged a hand down his face, struggling to find the words. “Chuck, I ain’t supposed to be here. This… this timeline, it ain’t mine.”

Charles’s expression shifted, his calm demeanor replaced with something more serious. “I see,” he said carefully. “Go on.”

“You remember what Kitty did,” Logan said, stopping to lean on the edge of the desk. “Sending my mind back to ’73, to fix everything. To stop the Sentinels.”

“Yes,” Charles replied, his voice steady. “And you succeeded, Logan. The world you’re in now is a result of that success.”

Logan’s laugh was bitter, shaking his head. “Then why the hell don’t I remember it, huh? Why do I remember… all of it? The Sentinels. The Phoenix. Y/N—” His voice cracked, and he looked away, his fists clenching. “She died, Chuck. In my timeline, she died. Jean, too. All of you.”

Charles regarded him quietly, his hands still folded. “Logan, the mind is a complicated thing. It’s possible that in the process of returning you to this point in time, fragments of your original timeline have remained intact.”

“Fragments?” Logan scoffed, pushing off the desk to pace again. “Chuck, this ain’t fragments. I remember it all. I remember her dying six times, dammit. I remember the look on her face when she—” He stopped himself, his breathing ragged.

Charles’s expression softened. “Logan, this is your life now. Whatever timeline you came from, whatever you remember, it’s in the past. This is your reality now. Y/N is alive. Jean is alive. You have a family, a home.”

Logan’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “Yeah, but it ain’t mine. This ring—” He held up his own hand with his own ring, the band of gold catching the light. “I didn’t put it on her finger, Chuck. Some other version of me did. And I don’t know how to be him.”

Charles leaned forward slightly, his voice gentle but firm. “Then perhaps it’s time you learned. For her. For your family.”

Logan stared at him, his chest tight. He wanted to argue, to push back, but the truth of Charles’s words settled heavy in his gut. He’d fought so hard to change the future, to make sure you and everyone else had a chance at a better life. Now that it was here, he didn’t know how to live in it.

He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling shakily. “What do I do, Chuck?”

Charles smiled faintly. “You take it one day at a time, Logan. And you start by going back to her.”

---

You stood in the Professor’s office, your arms crossed, the faint cherry gloss on your lips catching the sunlight through the large windows. You tilted your head slightly, studying Logan as he leaned against the desk, his expression unreadable but tense.

“So…” you began, your voice soft but steady, “you’re from a different timeline? One where none of this happened?”

Logan exhaled heavily, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Yeah, sweetheart. That’s about the size of it.”

Your gaze flicked between him and Charles, who sat calmly behind his desk, his hands folded in front of him. “And in that timeline…” you hesitated, your voice faltering slightly. “What happened to me?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his eyes briefly darting away from yours before he forced himself to meet your gaze. The weight of his memories hung between you, unspoken but palpable.

“You didn’t make it,” he admitted, his voice low and gravelly.

The room felt colder, the air heavier as his words settled over you. You shifted slightly, gripping your own arms as if to steady yourself.

“But not this time,” Charles interjected gently, his calm voice breaking the silence. “This timeline is different, Y/N. You survived, as did many others who didn’t in Logan’s original timeline.”

You turned to Charles, your brow furrowing. “How? How is that even possible? Timelines aren’t just malleable—”

“They are when someone like Kitty Pryde is involved,” Charles replied, his tone steady but kind. “Logan changed the future, which altered the past. But it seems his mind retained the memories of his original timeline when he was brought back.”

You looked at Logan, your head spinning as you tried to wrap your mind around what they were telling you. “So… you’re saying that everything I remember—all the years we’ve been together, raising Gabby and Laura—they’re real, but to you, they’re…”

“New,” Logan finished for you. He pushed off the desk, his hands going to his hips as he paced the room. “To me, darlin’, this—” he gestured vaguely at the mansion around him, “—this is all brand new. The last thing I remember before waking up this morning was bein’ in 1973, tryin’ to stop Mystique from killin’ Trask.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. The Logan standing before you was so familiar, yet so… not. He was the same man you’d spent decades with, and yet he wasn’t.

“You’re still you,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan stopped pacing, turning to look at you. His gaze softened slightly, the hard edges of his frustration melting away. “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “Still me.”

“But you don’t remember Gabby or Laura,” you said, a pang of sadness creeping into your voice. “You don’t remember us.”

Logan’s expression twisted with guilt. “No, sweetheart,” he admitted. “Not the way I should. But I’m tryin’. I swear to you, I’m gonna figure this out.”

You stepped closer to him, your glasses sliding slightly down your nose as you looked up into his eyes. “You’re not alone in this, Logan,” you said softly. “We’ll figure it out together.”

He stared at you, his throat tightening at the unwavering trust in your eyes. Slowly, he reached out, his large hand brushing against yours before taking it fully. “Thanks, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice rough but sincere.

Charles cleared his throat gently, drawing your attention. “The bond you two share has persisted across lifetimes,” he said. “It is not surprising that it remains strong, even now.”

You glanced back at Logan, your fingers still entwined with his. “I guess it’s just one more thing we’ve survived together,” you said with a faint smile.

Logan’s lips quirked upward, just barely. “Yeah,” he said. “Guess so.”

But as the three of you stood there, Logan couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of a much bigger challenge. For now, though, he let himself hold onto your hand, grounding himself in the one constant he’d always known: you.

---

Laura stared across the table at Logan, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of his face as if she were trying to find something different, something off. Meanwhile, Gabby’s bright voice filled the dining room.

“And then, they just grow back their limbs! Like, if an axolotl loses a leg or even its tail, it’s all, poof! Fixed!” Gabby made an exaggerated explosion motion with her hands, her fork clattering against her plate. “Isn’t that cool, Daddy?”

Logan blinked, dragging himself out of his thoughts. “Uh, yeah, kid. Real cool.” His voice was gruff but softer than usual as he glanced at her. Gabby beamed, apparently satisfied with his half-hearted response, and took another bite of her pancake.

“Dad doesn’t even know what an axolotl is,” Laura said flatly, her gaze never leaving him.

Gabby gasped, scandalized. “Laura! Of course he does! He’s Daddy! He knows everything!”

Logan scratched the back of his neck, an awkward chuckle slipping out. “Well, I wouldn’t say everything…”

Laura narrowed her eyes slightly, leaning back in her chair. “You’re acting weird.”

“Laura,” you said gently, walking into the room with a cup of coffee in hand. You leaned against the doorway, your glasses slipping down your nose just a touch as you looked at your daughter. “Be nice.”

“She’s not wrong,” Logan muttered under his breath, but you caught it and shot him a warning look.

Laura crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed. “He didn’t even laugh at Gabby’s joke about Mom’s coffee yesterday. That’s how you know something’s wrong.”

You hid your smile behind your mug. “To be fair, it wasn’t a great joke, Gabby.”

“It was hilarious!” Gabby protested, slapping her hands on the table for emphasis.

“Sure, sweetie,” you said with a chuckle, walking over to Logan. Your hand found his shoulder as you leaned down slightly. “Why don’t you two finish breakfast? We’ll be right back.”

Logan shot you a look but didn’t argue as you guided him out of the room, your hand lingering on his arm for a moment before you let go. You didn’t stop until you were in the hallway, far enough from the dining room that the girls couldn’t hear you.

“You’re gonna have to stop looking like a deer in headlights every time Gabby says something,” you said quietly, your tone soft but firm. “She’s going to figure it out if you keep that up.”

Logan let out a long sigh, leaning against the wall. “I’m tryin’, sweetheart. It’s just…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair.

“Overwhelming?” you finished for him.

“Yeah. That.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes meeting yours. “I don’t know how to do this. Any of this. I don’t remember gettin’ married or havin’ kids. And now, I’ve got a eleven-year-old givin’ me the third degree and a five-year-old who thinks I hung the moon.”

“They’re your daughters, Logan,” you said softly. “And they adore you. Just… be yourself. You’ve always been a good dad to them. That hasn’t changed.”

Logan looked at you, his expression a mixture of uncertainty and determination. “And you?”

“What about me?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

“How do I do right by you?” His voice was low, the vulnerability in it catching you off guard.

You stepped closer, your hand brushing his. “You’re already doin’ it,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll figure this out together. Just like we always do.”

He let out a low huff, leaning his side against the wall, “well, if I have to hear one more word about an axolotl and their gills, I might lose it.”

You leaned into the wall, mimicking Logan’s stance, your lips twitching upward as you adjusted your glasses. “Actually, axolotls have both gills and lungs, so they can breathe underwater and directly from the air. But they rely on their gills more than their lungs because they’re primarily aquatic. Oh, and their gills are those frilly things you see sticking out of their necks—external gills, which are super rare in vertebrates…”

Logan’s eyebrows rose slowly, and a wry grin began to tug at the corner of his mouth as your words spilled out faster than you seemed to realize.

“And did you know,” you continued, your voice picking up slightly as you adjusted your glasses again, “they stay in a juvenile state their whole lives? It’s called neoteny, and—”

Logan finally let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Alright, darlin’, I get it. You’re where Gabby gets it from.”

You paused mid-ramble, your brow furrowing as you looked up at him. “Gets what?”

“The whole talk a mile a minute about stuff that makes the rest of us feel like idiots thing,” he teased, his tone gruff but warm. “She starts goin’ on about somethin’, an’ it’s like watchin’ a little tornado of facts. Now I know where she gets it.”

Your cheeks flushed slightly, a mix of amusement and bashfulness flashing across your face. “I don’t talk that much.”

Logan arched a brow, his grin widening just a touch. “Sure, sweetheart. Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

You huffed, pushing lightly against his chest with the back of your hand, though your lips tugged into a reluctant smile. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you’re still stuck with me,” he teased, his tone laced with an unexpected softness.

For a moment, you both stood there in the hallway, the din of breakfast chatter echoing faintly behind the door. Logan’s eyes lingered on you, the faint cherry gloss on your lips catching his attention again as sunlight streamed in through the nearby window.

“I really mean it, darlin’,” Logan said after a beat, his voice dipping into something deeper. “You’ve got no idea how much I appreciate you holdin’ this together. All this…” He gestured vaguely, his expression faltering for a second. “It’s a lot to take in.”

Your smile softened, and you reached for his hand instinctively. “We’ve been through worse, Logan. Together. We always find a way.”

Logan’s gaze dropped to your intertwined hands, the touch grounding him. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Always.”

Before the moment could settle further, Scott and Jean walked past the two of you, entering the kitchen. You grabbed Logan’s hand, “c’mon, I want you to see somethin’.”

You pulled Logan to the doorway of the kitchen, motioning for him to stay quiet. His brow furrowed, but he didn’t resist as he leaned slightly into the frame beside you, peeking into the room. Scott was at the counter, pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee, while Jean stood nearby, polishing an apple against her sleeve.

“Why are we standin’ here like—” Logan began, but you held up a finger to shush him.

“Wait for it,” you murmured, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

From behind the island, Gabby and Laura crouched in near-perfect silence. Gabby’s face was alight with glee as Laura whispered instructions, holding a small device that looked suspiciously like something Jones might have helped them cobble together.

Logan squinted. “What the hell are they—”

“Shh!” you hissed, suppressing a grin as Laura pressed a button on the device.

The coffee maker on the counter suddenly sputtered and hissed, steam pouring out in dramatic bursts as it began to shake. Scott froze mid-sip, frowning at the machine.

“What the—” Scott leaned in cautiously, placing his mug down.

With a loud pop, a stream of glitter shot out from the coffee maker, spraying directly onto Scott’s chest and face. His entire upper body sparkled in gold and silver flecks as he stumbled back, coughing in surprise.

Gabby popped up from behind the counter, arms thrown in the air triumphantly. “Success!”

Laura stood beside her, a small, satisfied smirk tugging at her lips. “Glitter bomb: 100% effective.”

Logan stared, wide-eyed, as Scott wiped at his face in a futile attempt to rid himself of the glitter. “Girls,” Scott said, his voice low and measured in a tone that suggested he was summoning all of his patience, “what did I say about tamperin’ with the coffee maker?”

Gabby, undeterred, pointed at him dramatically. “You said don’t do it. But you never said we couldn’t improve it.”

Jean bit into her apple, turning slightly away to hide her laughter behind a hand.

“You let them do this?” Scott asked, glaring at her.

“I let them? Scott, they’re your nieces,” Jean said smoothly, not bothering to hide the amusement in her tone.

“They’re your nieces too!” Scott protested, but Jean just shrugged, taking another bite of her apple.

Logan let out a low chuckle beside you, shaking his head. “They’re somethin’ else.”

You grinned, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “They’re just like you.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you know exactly what it means,” you teased. “You’re as much of a troublemaker as they are. Don’t think I haven’t seen the pranks you’ve pulled.”

“Pranks? Me?” Logan’s expression feigned innocence, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Right,” you drawled, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve just coincidentally passed on all your mischief genes to Laura and Gabby?”

Logan let out a soft laugh, his gaze flicking back to the kitchen where Gabby was now dancing around Scott, singing, “Uncle Scott is the glitter king!” at the top of her lungs.

Laura crossed her arms, clearly pleased with her handiwork. “Don’t worry. It’s biodegradable glitter,” she said in a tone that suggested she didn’t actually care about Scott’s glitter predicament but wanted to seem magnanimous.

Scott groaned, his voice rising in frustration. “You two better clean this up. And my shirt. And my—” He gestured vaguely at his glitter-covered face.

Gabby giggled. “Sure, Uncle Scott. Right after breakfast.”

Scott turned to Jean for backup, but she just shrugged again. “You’ll be fine, Scott. You’ve been through worse.”

“Not worse than this,” Scott muttered darkly, picking at a gold fleck on his visor.

You stifled another laugh as Logan crossed his arms, watching the scene unfold with an almost paternal fondness. “They really only prank Summers?”

You nodded, grinning. “Every time. Jean’s always off-limits, but Scott? Fair game. Laura says it builds his character.”

Logan shook his head, still smiling. “Kid’s got my sense of humor, all right.”

“See?” you said, leaning closer to him. “They’re just like you.”

Logan glanced down at you, his expression softening as his gaze lingered. “Guess I’ve got a lot to live up to, huh?”

“You already do,” you said quietly, your hand brushing against his. “More than you know.”

Before Logan could respond, Gabby’s excited voice interrupted. “Mommy! Daddy! Did you see? Uncle Scott’s a walking disco ball!”

You turned just as Gabby bolted toward you both, her small arms outstretched. Logan instinctively crouched to catch her as she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Did you like it, Daddy?” Gabby asked, her face bright with anticipation.

Logan hesitated, his arms tightening slightly around her as he glanced at you for guidance. You smiled, nodding almost imperceptibly.

“Yeah, kid,” Logan said finally, his voice gruff but warm. “You got him good.”

Gabby beamed, hugging him tighter before pulling back to look at him. “Laura says we should do water balloons next time. But I think paint bombs would be cooler.”

Logan chuckled, standing with her still in his arms. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Gabby.”

Gabby laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder. You watched the two of them, your chest tightening at the sight of Logan holding her so naturally, even if his memories of her weren’t there yet.

Logan caught your eye, his expression unreadable but intense, as if he were trying to piece together the life he couldn’t remember but was already a part of.

For now, you just smiled, stepping closer to place a hand on his arm. “Come on,” you said softly. “Let’s get back in there before Scott recruits you to clean up his glitter.”

Logan let out a low chuckle, his grip on Gabby firm as he followed you back into the kitchen, the warmth of the moment settling around the three of you like a quiet promise.

---

Jean sighed and stepped away, her hands falling from Logan’s temples as she crossed her arms. “I’m sorry, Logan. There’s not much else I can do.”

Logan remained seated, his elbows resting on his knees as his hands clenched together. “So, that’s it? Nothin’? Not even a flicker?”

Jean’s expression softened, but there was a hint of frustration in her voice, more directed at herself than him. “You’ve got a wall in your mind, Logan. One I can’t break through without risking your memories now. If I push too hard, I could do more harm than good.”

He let out a low growl, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Feels like I’m livin’ someone else’s life. Like it ain’t mine.”

“You are living your life,” Jean insisted gently. “This is you. You’re just missing… the journey that got you here.”

Logan ran a hand down his face, leaning back in the chair. His gaze drifted to the floor, but his thoughts were miles away. He could feel the weight of everything—the ring on your hand, the way Gabby called him ‘daddy,’ Laura’s quiet smirk when she saw him, the way you looked at him with such love and familiarity. It wasn’t foreign; it was right. But it was also wrong because he didn’t remember any of it.

Jean knelt beside him, her voice quieter now. “You’ve built something beautiful here, Logan. Something you fought for, even if you can’t remember how. Maybe instead of chasing what’s missing, you should try to live in what’s here.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his mind battling with itself. Before he could respond, a voice broke the heavy silence.

“Logan?” Your voice was soft but steady from the doorway.

His head snapped up, and for a moment, the tension in his shoulders eased. “Hey, darlin’.”

Jean rose, excusing herself with a subtle nod toward you. As she passed, she gave your arm a gentle squeeze, her own way of offering support, before disappearing down the hall.

You stepped inside, watching Logan closely as you approached. “How are you feeling?”

“Like my head’s been through the ringer,” he muttered, trying to muster a smirk but failing. “Jean couldn’t find much.”

You perched on the arm of the chair, your hand instinctively reaching for his shoulder. “It’s okay,” you said softly, your thumb tracing small circles over his flannel. “You don’t have to remember everything all at once.”

He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “That’s just it. I don’t remember any of it—marryin’ you, findin’ Laura, havin’ Gabby. None of it’s mine.”

Your heart ached at the rawness in his voice, but you squeezed his shoulder gently. “It is yours. Maybe not in the way you think, but it’s yours, Logan. We’re yours.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes darker, clouded with something you couldn’t quite name. “You’re takin’ this awful well.”

You smiled faintly, brushing a stray curl away from his forehead. “I told you when we got married, remember? That no matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t remember that, either,” he admitted gruffly, though there was a flicker of warmth in his voice.

“Well,” you teased lightly, trying to ease the tension, “lucky for you, I do.”

Logan’s hand came up, his fingers brushing against yours where they rested on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but the weight of his grip spoke volumes.

You brought him into your side, his head resting below your collarbone on your chest, and a small, bittersweet smile crept onto your lips. “It’s kinda ironic if you think about it.”

Logan’s voice was muffled against you, but there was a familiar gruffness to it. “What is?”

“This,” you said softly, one hand brushing through his hair while the other traced idle circles on his shoulder. “You remember all those lives I don’t, and now we’re here, and I’m the one who remembers… but you don’t.”

Logan let out a humorless chuckle, his arms tightening around your waist. “Yeah, darlin’, real funny.”

“Ironic,” you corrected, the corner of your mouth twitching upward, though the ache in your chest lingered. “Not funny.”

Logan exhaled deeply, his breath warm against your collarbone. “Guess I deserve that, huh? All those times, I remembered you, and now you’re stuck rememberin’ for me.”

You stilled your hand for a moment, then leaned back just enough to make him look at you. His eyes were darker than usual, shadowed with frustration and something deeper you couldn’t name. “You don’t deserve this, Logan,” you said firmly. “Don’t ever think that.”

He searched your face, his jaw tightening as he swallowed hard. “Feels like I do,” he murmured. “Every time I’ve lost you… it’s been my fault somehow. Every damn time. And now—” He cut himself off, shaking his head as though trying to dislodge the thought.

“And now,” you said, finishing for him, “you haven’t lost me.”

Logan’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing unconsciously over the fabric of your shirt where his hand rested on your waist. “Not yet.”

“Not at all,” you said, your voice steady. “You’ve got me, Logan. I’m right here.”

His lips twitched, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “For now.”

You sighed, cupping his cheek and guiding his gaze back to yours when it started to drift. “Logan. Stop. We’ve been married for nearly twenty years. I know this is… a lot. It’s a lot for me, too. But you don’t have to figure it all out today, or tomorrow, or even next week.”

He huffed a small laugh, his hand moving to rest over yours. “You always this patient?”

“Only with you,” you teased gently, though the warmth in your voice was genuine. “So don’t make me regret it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, and for a moment, his smirk was almost real.

You smiled back, letting the silence settle for a few beats before Logan’s arms tightened around you again, pulling you closer. His head rested against your chest, his body warm and solid against yours, and for a moment, you just held him.

---

Footsteps thundered across the broken ground, and then he was there. Logan dropped to his knees beside you, his hands immediately reaching for you, shaking you gently but urgently. “Sweetheart, no, no—open your eyes,” he pleaded, his voice cracking as his hands moved from your face to your shoulders, searching for signs of life.

Your body was limp in his arms, your chest still, your face losing color.

Logan’s breaths came in short, harsh gasps as he pulled you against him, cradling you like you might slip away entirely if he let go. “Y/N,” he whispered, the single word a broken prayer, an unbearable weight of grief choking him. His hands shook as they smoothed over your hair, as though trying to coax you back to him with touch alone.

He didn’t notice Ororo land nearby, didn’t register her sharp intake of breath as she took in the scene. Her hand came up to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror, but she didn’t approach. Behind her, Bobby and Kitty stood frozen, their expressions stricken, but they too stayed back. Even Peter, with his usual strength and calm, had no words.

Logan didn’t care that they were there. Didn’t care about anything except the motionless weight in his arms. He rocked you slightly, his forehead pressing against yours as his ragged breaths turned into choked sobs. “You weren’t supposed to—damn it, you weren’t supposed to do this,” he growled, his voice breaking as he fought against the tears burning in his eyes. “Not this time. Not again.”

Logan pressed his lips to your forehead, his hands shaking as they cupped your face. “Come on, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice soft and cracked. “You’re stronger than this. You’re too stubborn to leave me. Just—just come back.”

The others stood frozen, unable to move, unable to interrupt the devastating scene unfolding before them. Ororo’s hand clutched her chest, tears streaking down her face as she turned away, giving Logan what little privacy she could in this moment of unbearable pain.

But Logan didn’t notice. He couldn’t notice. His world had narrowed to you—the unbearable stillness of your body, the haunting silence that surrounded you now.

He didn’t let go, even as the destruction around them finally began to settle, the last vestiges of Jean’s power fading into nothingness. His arms tightened around you, his forehead pressing to yours again as he whispered brokenly, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save you. I’m so damn sorry.”

Time seemed to stand still in the worst possible way. For the first time in his long, painful life, Logan felt completely and utterly powerless. The ring he’d carried for over a century burned like a brand against his chest, a cruel reminder of all the promises he’d never been able to keep.

Logan buried his face against your neck, his voice raw as he whispered, “I was gonna tell you. About the ring. About everything. You—you deserved to know.” His thumb brushed over your cheek, as if he could will the life back into you.

He pulled back, his tear-streaked face contorted in anguish as he gazed down at you. “I love you,” he said, his voice breaking on every syllable. “I’ve loved you through every lifetime, and I’ll love you in the next one, too. But please, sweetheart, don’t make me wait again. Not this time. Please.”

His hands trembled as he touched your cheek again, his thumb brushing over your skin like it might bring you back. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice hoarse. “I’ll always love you.”

But you didn’t move. Your chest didn’t rise. You were gone.

Logan’s breath hitched as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead—one last desperate, lingering moment of tenderness. When he pulled back, his gaze swept over your still features, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and devastation.

Behind him, Ororo, Bobby, Kitty, and Peter stood at a distance, their faces drawn with grief. None of them moved to intervene. They knew better than to intrude on this moment, on Logan’s anguish.

The air felt impossibly heavy as Logan shifted, gathering your lifeless form into his arms. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though handling something too precious to break further. He cradled you close, his head bowing as he let out a shuddering breath. The others watched as he rose to his feet, every muscle in his body screaming in protest, though he showed no sign of it.

“Logan…” Ororo began softly, stepping forward.

He didn’t acknowledge her. His eyes were locked on you, his focus unwavering. Without a word, he turned away, carrying you toward the bridge. There was no Blackbird to take them home—Jean’s power had obliterated it along with so much else—but Logan didn’t seem to care about the logistics. His only concern was you.

---

Logan jerked awake, gasping, his body tense and drenched in cold sweat. The dim light of the bedroom barely illuminated his surroundings, but he didn’t need it to know where he was. The warmth beside him, the faint scent of your cherry lip gloss lingering in the air—those were enough to remind him. This was 2023. You were alive.

He turned his head to look at you, his breathing still uneven. You were curled on your side, your glasses resting on the nightstand, your hand loosely clutching the blanket. Peaceful. Alive.

“Logan?” your voice, soft and drowsy, broke the silence. You stirred, sensing his distress even in your half-asleep state. “What’s wrong?”

He swallowed hard, running a hand down his face. “Nothin’, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice rough and unconvincing. “Go back to sleep.”

But you sat up anyway, your hair slightly mussed, your gaze focusing on him even without your glasses. “You had another nightmare, didn’t you?” You reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Was it… bad?”

Logan closed his eyes, exhaling shakily. He wanted to lie, to brush it off and tell you he was fine, but the weight of the memory still clung to him like a shadow he couldn’t shake. “Yeah,” he admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

Without hesitation, you slid closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. “It’s okay,” you murmured, resting your head against his shoulder. “I’m here.”

His body stiffened at first, the vulnerability of the moment making his instincts scream to pull away, but then he let out a shaky breath and folded you into his arms. The solid warmth of you against him—the weight of your presence—was like a lifeline, anchoring him back to the present.

“I dreamed about… losin’ you,” he said after a long moment, his voice low and raw. “It—it was like I could feel it happenin’ all over again.”

Your heart ached at the pain in his tone, but you didn’t pull back. Instead, you tightened your hold on him, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “You didn’t lose me,” you whispered. “I’m right here, Logan.”

His arms tightened around you as though he needed to remind himself you were real. After a few moments, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching your face like he was memorizing every detail. His hands came up to frame your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“I gotta hold you,” he said, his voice gruff but almost pleading. “Just let me—” His words faltered, and he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was desperate yet tender, like he was pouring all the fear and love in his heart into the connection.

You kissed him back without hesitation, your hands resting on his chest. But when he pulled back only to kiss you again—this time slower, deeper—you pulled away slightly, just enough to catch your breath. “Logan,” you murmured, your voice gentle, “are you sure you’re okay?”

His forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “Just lemme kiss you, please,” he said softly, his voice almost breaking. “Need to feel you. Need to know you’re here.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you nodded, your hands sliding up to cup his face. “I’m here,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his again, reassuring him with every touch that you weren’t going anywhere.

Time seemed to stop as you stayed like that, locked in the quiet intimacy of the moment. His hands moved to your waist, holding you securely, while yours stayed on his face, grounding him. Eventually, you pulled back, your noses brushing, your breaths mingling.

“You wanna talk about it?” you asked softly, your fingers tracing soothing patterns along his jawline.

Logan hesitated, his eyes flickering with something raw and unspoken. “Not yet,” he admitted, his voice thick. “Just… don’t leave me tonight, darlin’.”

You shook your head, offering him a soft smile despite the emotion welling in your chest. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, wrapping your arms around him again.

---

The Blackbird hummed steadily, the low vibration underscoring the tense silence among the team. You glanced toward Logan, his expression hard and unreadable as he stared out the small window. He hadn’t said much since takeoff, and you didn’t push him. Instead, you’d focused on Jean, who was reviewing the mission details, and Scott, who’d been unusually quiet.

“I can handle this,” Logan had said when you vouched for him earlier. You hadn’t doubted him then, and you didn’t now. But Scott’s skepticism hung heavy in the cabin, evident in every glance he shot Logan’s way.

You let out a soft breath and shifted in your seat, nudging Logan’s arm with your elbow. “Hey,” you said quietly, leaning in. “You good?”

Logan turned his head, his eyes meeting yours for a moment. He nodded, though his jaw stayed tight. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m fine.”

You didn’t buy it, but you let it go. For now.

Scott’s voice cut through the tension. “We’re approaching the drop zone. Everyone stay sharp. This should be quick, but let’s not get sloppy.”

“Sloppy?” Logan muttered under his breath. “We don’t do sloppy.”

Scott shot him a look from the cockpit but didn’t respond, and you bit back a small smile despite the nerves fluttering in your chest.

---

The mission was supposed to be simple. Extract intel, neutralize threats, and get out. But as usual, things didn’t go as planned.

The team moved as a unit through the labyrinthine corridors of the facility, the dim lighting casting long shadows that danced with every flicker of movement. Logan was at the front, claws out, his senses leading the way. You stayed close, your focus split between him and the others.

“Jean, you got eyes on the server room?” Scott’s voice crackled through the comms.

“About twenty meters ahead,” Jean replied, her voice calm despite the rising tension.

Logan’s claws retracted with a snikt as he held up a hand, signaling everyone to stop. His nose twitched, and his head tilted slightly. “Something’s off,” he murmured, his voice low.

Before anyone could ask what, the ground beneath your feet rumbled, and the corridor ahead exploded in a burst of heat and light. You stumbled back, shielding your face, as alarms blared throughout the facility.

“Damn it!” Scott barked. “It’s a trap!”

Logan was already moving, his claws gleaming as he launched himself toward the first wave of attackers. “Get to the server room!” he shouted over his shoulder. “I’ll clear the way!”

“Logan, wait—” But he was gone, a blur of fury and precision as he tore through the enemy.

You exchanged a quick glance with Jean and Ororo before taking off in the opposite direction with them. The mission had gone sideways, but there was no time to panic. Focus was key.

---

You weren’t sure how long it had been—minutes? Hours? The battle had stretched into chaos, and every step felt like a fight to stay alive. You found yourself separated from the others, the air thick with smoke and the metallic tang of blood.

Your powers buzzed beneath your skin, a familiar warning. You’d been careful not to overuse them, knowing the toll it took, but the situation left you little choice. Cornered by a group of heavily armed soldiers, you raised your hands, time itself seeming to shudder as you concentrated.

The soldiers froze mid-step, their weapons hanging suspended in the air. Sweat beaded on your forehead as you pushed harder, distorting the flow of time around you. The strain was immediate, your body protesting as you manipulated the anomaly.

“Y/N!” Logan’s voice cut through the haze, rough and urgent. He appeared out of the smoke, his claws dripping red. His eyes widened when he saw you, the flickering distortion around you making it clear you were at your limit.

“I’m fine,” you said, though your voice was strained. “Go help the others.”

“Like hell,” Logan growled, rushing to your side. His hand gripped your arm firmly but gently. “Stop this. You’re gonna tear yourself apart.”

“I can handle it,” you insisted, though your knees buckled slightly under the weight of your own power.

Logan didn’t argue. Instead, he scooped you up with a gentleness that belied his strength, cradling you against his chest. The anomaly wavered, then shattered, the soldiers collapsing as time resumed. But the damage was done.

As the world around you stabilized, you felt a strange, disorienting pull in your mind—like something had snapped and splintered all at once.

Logan froze mid-step, a strangled noise escaping his throat. His grip on you tightened as his body went rigid, his breathing shallow and erratic.

“Logan?” you murmured, your voice weak. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His eyes darted wildly as memories surged through his mind—memories that didn’t belong to the man he’d been moments ago.

A wedding. Your smile, brighter than the sun, as you held his hands. The weight of the gold ring he’d finally placed on your finger after lifetimes of waiting.

Laughter. Laura’s tiny hands clutching his shirt as he carried her on his shoulders, her giggles echoing through the halls of the mansion. Gabby’s wide grin as she showed him a picture she’d drawn of the four of you—her family.

Peace. The quiet nights on the porch, your head resting on his shoulder as the stars twinkled overhead.

Love.

A life.

A family.

Logan stumbled, dropping to his knees as the memories overwhelmed him. They were vivid and unrelenting, a rush of emotion and experience that left him gasping for air.

Your hands trembled as you knelt beside Logan, panic bubbling in your chest. His body shook, his breaths coming in sharp, shallow gasps. You reached out, gripping his shoulders. “Logan! Please—what’s wrong? Talk to me!”

He didn’t respond. His eyes were wide and unfocused, darting as though he was watching something invisible and overwhelming. His claws had retracted, his hands pressed flat to the ground like he was trying to anchor himself.

“Logan…” Your voice cracked, tears blurring your vision. “I’m sorry—I don’t know what I did—please, just say something.”

His breath hitched sharply, and he finally looked at you, though his gaze was distant, almost haunted. “I… I can’t—” His voice was rough, fractured, as though he was choking on the words. “It’s… I remember.”

You froze. The blood roaring in your ears was nearly deafening. “What do you mean? Remember what?”

Logan shook his head as if trying to clear it, but his face was pale, his features twisted with a mix of disbelief and something raw—grief? Love? Fear? You couldn’t tell.

“It’s us.” His hands reached for you instinctively, his calloused palms cupping your face. “I see you. I see…” His words faltered, and his gaze flickered like he was staring into a memory you couldn’t reach. “The wedding. Laura. Gabby. God, darlin’, I see all of it. I feel it.”

Your heart clenched, your breath catching in your throat. “You remember this life?” you whispered, your hands resting on his wrists.

Logan’s eyes, normally so sharp and guarded, now brimmed with something far more vulnerable—tears threatening to spill as his gaze bore into yours. “Yeah,” he rasped, his voice rough, choked. “Not just bits and pieces… all of it.”

Tears continued to blur your vision as you searched his face, struggling to process his words. His hands stayed on your face, steady even though they were trembling slightly, and his eyes darted over yours like he was trying to memorize every detail, afraid you might vanish if he looked away for even a second.

“Logan…” Your voice wavered, the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest. “You… remember everything?”

He nodded, the movement jerky, uncoordinated. “Yeah. Every damn thing,” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion. “I remember… us. Our life. Laura. Gabby. The day I put this ring on your finger.” His thumb brushed against the gold band on your left hand, his expression flickering between awe and devastation. “I remember it all, darlin’. And it’s like I’ve been livin’ two lives at once.”

Your heart twisted, torn between relief and worry. Relief that he was remembering the life you’d built together—your family, your home—but worry because you knew what this meant for him. Logan wasn’t just remembering. He was reconciling two lifetimes, one full of loss and pain, and one where he’d finally found peace.

You cupped his face now, your hands trembling against his rough, stubbled cheeks. “Logan,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant sounds of the fight still raging in the facility. “You’re here. You’re with me. With us. And that’s all that matters.”

His eyes stayed locked on yours, and you could see the storm of emotions swirling behind them—grief, guilt, love, hope. “It’s real,” he said, almost like he needed to hear it to believe it. “This… all of it… it’s real. I didn’t lose you this time.”

“No,” you murmured, tears spilling freely now. “You didn’t lose me. You’ve got me, Logan. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

His hands tightened ever so slightly on your face, his forehead lowering until it rested gently against yours. His breath hitched, and you felt the faintest tremor run through him. “I lost you six times, sweetheart. Six times. I held you in my arms while you—” His voice broke, and he sucked in a sharp breath like he was trying to keep himself together. “I can’t… I can’t lose you again. I won’t.”

“You won’t,” you said firmly, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. “You won’t, Logan. This is our life. Our family. And you’re not gonna lose me. Not now, not ever.”

For a long moment, the two of you just stayed like that, kneeling on the cold floor in the middle of a war zone, holding on to each other like the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

Finally, Logan spoke again, his voice quieter now, though no less weighted. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his tone raw. “I remember us, but I don’t… I don’t feel like the man you married. I don’t feel like Laura and Gabby’s dad.”

Your heart ached at his words, but you held his gaze, your own resolve strengthening. “You are the man I married,” you said softly but firmly. “You’re the same Logan who’s been by my side for twenty years, who’s been an amazing father to Laura and Gabby, who’s built this life with me. I know it doesn’t feel that way right now, but it will. You’ll remember not just with your head, but with your heart, too. I promise.”

He closed his eyes briefly, exhaling shakily before nodding. “I hope you’re right, darlin’,” he murmured. “Because I don’t wanna screw this up.”

“You won’t,” you assured him. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Another explosion sounded in the distance, and Logan’s head whipped around, his instincts kicking in. “We gotta move,” he said gruffly, helping you to your feet. “You okay to walk?”

“I’m fine,” you said, though your legs wobbled slightly as the adrenaline began to wear off. Logan steadied you with a hand on your waist, his touch firm but careful.

“Let’s find the others,” he said, his voice steadying as he slipped back into mission mode. But before you could take a step, he stopped, turning back to you. His hand cupped your cheek again, his eyes soft but serious. “I love you,” he said, the words rough but filled with conviction. “I just… I needed to say it.”

Your breath caught, but you smiled, leaning into his touch. “I love you, too,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “Always.”

He nodded once, then released you, his claws sliding out with a familiar snikt. “Stay close,” he said, his tone low and protective as he led the way down the corridor. And though the chaos of the mission loomed ahead, you felt a flicker of hope—because no matter what, you were facing it together.

---

Once back at the mansion, the first things you saw were Laura and Gabby standing by Rogue, waiting for the others to clear the jet before you and Logan stepped off.

Gabby was the first to make a move, walking at a brisk pace until Logan finished climbing down the stairs and kneeled down, “c’mere princess.”

She let out a happy squeal and ran the rest of the way, launching herself into Logan’s arms. “You haven’t called me that in ages!”

Laura walked over to the three of you, giving you a short hug from the side, “weeks, Gabby, weeks.”

Gabby removed herself from Logan’s chest, turning to face her sister, “that’s ages Laura!”

Laura crossed her arms, her eyebrow arched in exaggerated disbelief. “It’s weeks, Gabby. Don’t be so dramatic.”

Logan chuckled, low and gravelly, still kneeling on the hangar floor. His hands rested lightly on Gabby’s shoulders as she spun back around to look at him, her big, expressive eyes narrowing in mock irritation.

“Well, she’s right about one thing,” Logan said, ruffling Gabby’s hair. “I haven’t been callin’ you ‘princess’ like I should.”

Gabby beamed, throwing her arms around his neck again. “It’s okay, Daddy. I forgive you!”

Behind them, you stood near the ramp, watching the scene with a mix of relief and warmth. Logan caught your eye over Gabby’s shoulder, his gaze softening as it locked on yours. For a moment, it was like the rest of the world disappeared.

Laura’s voice broke the spell. “You’re forgiven this time,” she said with a teasing smirk as she stepped closer. “But Gabby’s gonna milk it for at least a week. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Logan straightened, a hand resting on Gabby’s back as he looked at Laura with that gruff, fatherly affection he’d perfected. “Yeah, well, I reckon I can handle that.”

Gabby grinned triumphantly, glancing between her sister and her dad. “See? Told you I’m his favorite.”

Logan groaned, shaking his head as he rose to his feet, lifting Gabby effortlessly in his arms. “Don’t start that, kiddo. I got room for both of you troublemakers.”

Gabby giggled, but Laura rolled her eyes. “Nice save, Dad.”

You chuckled softly, stepping forward now that the moment felt a little less overwhelming. “Alright, you two,” you said, your voice warm but firm. “Let’s get inside. Everyone’s probably waiting, and your dad looks like he could use a break.”

Logan gave you a small, appreciative smile, one that lingered longer than usual, like he was drinking in every detail of you standing there. He shifted Gabby to his hip and reached out with his free hand, his calloused fingers brushing yours briefly as you both turned toward the mansion.

The walk back was filled with Gabby’s chatter, Laura’s sarcastic commentary, and Logan’s occasional grunt of amusement. But as the four of you crossed the threshold into the warmth of the mansion, you could feel the shift in Logan—a quiet resolve mixed with the raw emotion still simmering beneath the surface.

Once the girls were out of earshot, you tugged gently on Logan’s sleeve, pulling him aside into the quieter hallway. His brows furrowed slightly, but he let you guide him, his hand instinctively finding its way to your waist.

“Logan,” you started softly, looking up at him as the distant echoes of the mansion’s activity faded. “Are you okay?”

Logan’s jaw tensed, his eyes searching yours as though weighing his answer. The soft glow of the mansion’s lights illuminated his face, highlighting the exhaustion and turmoil etched into his features. He let out a low sigh, the sound heavy with emotion, before his hand slid from your waist to cradle the side of your face.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice rough but honest. “It’s like... I’ve been livin’ someone else’s life for weeks. Like it was mine but not mine, ya know? And now…” He paused, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, his brow furrowing. “Now it’s all there. Every moment. Every damn thing. I remember our girls, our wedding, us. And it’s... it’s real. But it feels like it shouldn’t be. Like it’s a dream I’m gonna wake up from any second.”

Your heart clenched at the raw vulnerability in his voice. You reached up, covering his hand with yours, grounding him. “It’s not a dream, Logan. This is real. We’re real. Laura and Gabby are real. You’re their dad, my husband, and the man who’s been by my side through everythin’. You’ve got us, and we’ve got you.”

His eyes softened, but there was still a shadow of doubt lingering in them. “Feels like I’ve been walkin’ around with a piece missin’, and now it’s slammed back into place all at once. It’s almost too much.”

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. His heart thundered beneath your ear, fast and unsteady, but his arms came around you like they always had, holding you tightly. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight,” you murmured. “We’ll take it one step at a time. Together.”

Logan buried his face in your hair, his breath hitching as he clung to you. “I missed this,” he said, so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. “Even when I didn’t know what I was missin’, I missed this.”

You smiled against his chest, your tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. “You’re home now,” you whispered. “That’s what matters.”

He nodded against you, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. “You’re somethin’ else, ya know that?” he said, his lips twitching into a faint, almost self-conscious smile. “Don’t deserve you.”

“You’re wrong,” you said firmly, your hand coming up to rest against his cheek. “We deserve each other. And we deserve this life we’ve built. It hasn’t been perfect, Logan, but it’s ours. And it’s worth every fight.”

Logan’s hand slid to the small of your back, his thumb tracing lazy circles there. His gaze held yours for a long moment before he dipped his head, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Thanks, darlin’,” he murmured. “For not givin’ up on me.”

“Never,” you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips. “Now, let’s get back to the girls. They’ll probably think we’re plotting something if we’re gone too long.”

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, the sound easing some of the tension in his expression. “Yeah, don’t need Gabby comin’ up with some wild theory about why we’re takin’ our time.”

You chuckled, threading your fingers through his as you began walking back toward the living area. “She’d have us starring in some kind of superhero soap opera.”

“Kid’s got a hell of an imagination,” Logan muttered, though there was unmistakable fondness in his tone.

As the two of you reached the living room, Laura and Gabby looked up from the couch where they were sprawled out with popcorn and a movie on the screen. Gabby’s face lit up when she saw you, and she patted the spot next to her enthusiastically. “C’mon, Daddy! We saved you a seat!”

Logan glanced at you, his lips quirking in a small, grateful smile. “Think I better take her up on that,” he murmured.

“You better,” you teased, giving him a nudge. “I’ll grab some drinks and join you.”

He squeezed your hand once before letting go, striding over to settle between his daughters. Gabby immediately curled up against him, and Laura leaned over to steal a piece of his popcorn, earning a mock growl from him.

As you watched the three of them together, laughter bubbling up from the couch, you felt a deep sense of peace settle over you. Logan might still be navigating the storm in his mind, but he was here. And with time, you knew he’d come to fully embrace the life he’d found again.

and it's a happy ever after!!

this was meant to be much shorter. actually, i originally wasn't going to include logan getting his memories back and just make that into a bonus chapter but i couldn't stand it. if it's gonna be a happy ever after i had to go all the way.

and i have i have an idea of how they found laura that does not involve the logan movie. cause, no, no, no, they are getting their happy ending.

with that in mind, again, if anyone is interested in reading about how reader and logan got married, found laura, had gabby, let me know! or, if you have any ideas of stories you want me to tell with reader and logan don't be afraid to ask! (i might have already started writing for the alternate timeline...)

[thewertsearch]

pipefan413: The children pledged to each other that one day they would run away together. pipefan413: They followed in the footsteps of the dear colonel, in defiance of the old batterwitch. They studied his every jape, and practiced them in secret!

She could have left, then. Planned to leave, even. Grandpa didn’t abandon her, like I'd originally assumed – he always intended to flee alongside her.

pipefan413: But as they grew older, their interests drifted apart. The boy developed a passion for adventure and put aside his study of practical jokes. He dreamed of wealth and fame and discovery and swore he would wander the world. pipefan413: One day he decided to run away with the loyal dog he inherited from their father. He asked the girl if she would come along, but she was too scared of the retribution that might follow.

But I guess the adolescent Nanna didn’t have Grandpa’s confidence, nor his fearlessness. Left alone with a witch of a woman, her childhood was probably not dissimilar to many other children in this sad saga.

pipefan413: The boy scoffed at the danger, and assured his sister there was nothing to worry about. But he had not seen first hand what the baroness was capable of!

It sounds like Nanna directly witnessed some specific evil act. The woman did run a corporation, though, so that was probably just a typical Tuesday for Betty Crocker.

pipefan413: He told his sister that he believed in her, and that she could handle whatever the witch could throw at her. [...]

Those are some pretty harsh words for a girl destined for a lifetime of abuse - but at the same time, he did openly ask her to run away with him, and she couldn't do it. What was he meant to do, kidnap her?

I don't blame him for leaving alone, either. Grandpa was also an abused child, and it would be asking a lot of him to remain in an abusive household to defend another child. He needed to leave that situation for his sake, just as Nanna needed to leave it for hers.

Pipefan413: [...] And with that, he was off, and she would never see him again.

But, all that said, he should have come back eventually. He didn’t need to abandon her for an entire lifetime.

Whatever extenuating circumstances there may have been, it can't be denied that he started his life as an adventurer the same way he ended it - by leaving someone who loved him behind.

pipefan413: One day, the girl was able to gather enough bravery to mention her brother to the baroness, and her desire to see him again. With contempt, she guaranteed that this could never happen. When the girl asked why, that is when the baroness began to reveal to her more than just her baking secrets. pipefan413: [...] The colonel was not their father, nor was the baroness their mother. They in fact had no father or mother at all, nor were they ever actually born. They had both fallen from the sky! They were not actually brother and sister as they had been told either. Again like in many fairy tales, the truth was that they were always destined to become married one day. They were to have two children, a son and a daughter, and these children were meant to save the world! […]

Wait, what? Betty Crocker knew Sburb lore?

...I think it says quite a lot about the Homestuck experience that I'm not even particularly surprised. Of course Betty Crocker knew Sburb lore.

It’s clear that she didn't know everything, though. She was aware that John and Jade would eventually happen, but assumed they’d be born naturally - which makes it sound like she was just getting fragments of future events, much like a Prospit dreamer’s visions.

...or, like a wielder of the Cueball, which we already know was in her family’s possession. It’s sounding a lot like even Betty fucking Crocker was a Scratch pawn all along.

[yaksha-lover]

I've been thinking about the twst guys + mainly wondering who'd be most likely to get baby fever,,,

Malleus is definitely high on the list imo, as is Kalim... I think also Deuce and Rook?

Leona might not. He's already tired of dealing with Che'ka, he's probably not interested in the idea of raising a kid himself lol.

This is aged-up/set in the future where all of them are at least mid to late twenties and thinking about having children!

Most to Least Likely to Get Baby Fever:

Most Likely

Kalim had so many younger siblings growing up that he loved. That, combined with his friendly and social nature, makes me think he would love to have kids and a lot of them too. He’d be so excited to have his own family so he’d definitely get baby fever once he had a partner.

Malleus doesn’t have a lot of experience with children, but I think having a family of his own is something he would like because of his desire for closeness and a sense of domesticity, especially once he has a partner that he loves. You can’t stop this man from sweet talking you into having the next royal heir (and many more, after that).

Rook, despite what his proclivities might suggest, is very loving and dedicated to his family. He’s surprisingly domestic with his ability to cook and clean, and he loves children. He’s the most likely to have baby fever and randomly come home one day with a bunch of orphans for you to adopt.

Lilia already has Silver, of course, and I think he’d be very nostalgic for Silver’s childhood when he was still just a young baby. I imagine he’d love to relive that eventually, especially if he has a partner by his side to help him give Silver some siblings.

Jack’s wolf beastman thing about having only one partner his entire life makes me think that he’s much more domestic than he lets on. He wants the whole mate for life and have a family fantasy, and he’d definitely start to feel the baby fever once he had a partner he’s settled down with.

Deuce also has a domestic fantasy of sorts, I think he’d want to have children, but he’d also be shy about it. When he sees you playing with the neighbourhood kids, he can’t help but think about having kids together. His mom also bugs him about grandkids, so he’s encouraged by that too.

Trey is absolute househusband material, so he definitely gets baby fever once he’s settled down. I think he’d love to have kids and is pretty confident he’d be a great father, so he doesn’t feel the need to repress his desire to have a family once him and his partner have settled into their lives.

Cater wants children, probably gets baby fever from all the family vlog content he sees. You really have to sit him down and ask him if he knows all the responsibility that no one talks about. He’ll need some time to learn, but once he does he’s game on again and wanting to be a dad.

Ruggie is ambivalent because while he’s used to taking care of the kids in his town (and it comes naturally to him), he knows how insanely expensive kids can be. Once he gets a good enough job to only have to work one, I think he wouldn’t want to go back to working multiple all to have a kid. Thus, has baby fever occasionally but the cold hands of capitalism drag him back to reality.

Vil is someone I think would like to have a couple kids someday, but he’s in no rush considering his career. As he gets older and starts to see everyone else his age have a family, he would start to romanticize it more and more in his mind until he’s coming to you and asking to have a baby with his blond hair and your beautiful eyes.

Silver is relatively levelheaded, so he may get mild baby fever once he has a partner that he’s settled down with, but it’s never a huge priority in his mind. May daydream about it occasionally, but it’s a ‘see as we go’ type thing, not a decided plan.

Sebek is pretty traditional because of his upbringing, thus he does want kids with his partner eventually. At the same time, Sebek and kids don’t exactly mesh. He’d be a lot more mature at this point which would help, but his interactions with children do lessen his baby fever occasionally.

Jade is pretty relaxed about it, while he might want to have children, it’s more planned than anything. He’s aware of the responsibilities and fine with them, he just wants to wait for the right time. Also, he doesn’t care too much for other people’s children, so it will be more the situation with his partner that makes him eager to have his own family.

Floyd does get struck with moments of baby fever, but his mood swings mean it’s often just a passing thought that will dispel as soon as he remembers that kids aren’t just fun and rainbows 24/7. He finds kids fun, but can’t handle the responsibility of a lifetime commitment. Every time he starts to hint that he might want kids with you again, you just have to show him a picture of a diaper and he’ll be like ‘oh wait nvm.’

Epel is kind of in between, he doesn’t hate children but he doesn’t particularly love them either. He would want a family eventually, but doesn’t get struck with the urge to have babies particularly often, only when he’s feeling nostalgic for his own family.

Riddle is pretty self-aware about his trauma, and it scares him away from having children. He does want his own child, but he’s too afraid to become his mother. If you reassure him enough, he’ll let the domestic fantasy overtake his fear, and start to get excited about having a child in the future.

Azul is too busy working to really think about having a family. He wouldn’t mind having one or two eventually, but he doesn’t really dream about having kids when you and his work keep him busy enough.

Ace doesn’t have the patience for kids or the desire to have them. He’s happy to be the fun uncle to his brother’s kids and give them back once they need actual parenting. He might want to have one kid eventually, but he’d much rather it just be him and his partner for now.

Idia knows he can barely take care of himself, how can anyone expect him to take care of a kid? He’s happy with his little family of you and Ortho, no baby fever for Idia.

Jamil’s already had a child to take care of his whole life (Kalim) so he’s disillusioned with the fantasy of domestic bliss and having kids since he knows all its pitfalls. He won’t be getting baby fever anytime soon.

Leona explicitly doesn’t like kids, so I think his placement here is pretty self-explanatory. He’s aware just how difficult it is to raise a child and he honestly has no interest in it for now. When he’s feeling a bit sappy, I think he might fantasize about having a family from time to time, but he knows he only would enjoy the ‘good’ parts and not any of the work, so he wouldn’t want to go through with it.

Least Likely

[mythicmanuscripts]

So, what are your thoughts about Aemond and reader’s first time, considering all his past experiences with the brothel and all (I don’t know if that too vague, if it is, I’ll try to be more specific next time haha)

I love this question! Also, I don't think this is too vague but thank you for checking!! For future reference and also for everyone else, if you had just asked for something like "write Aemond and reader sleeping together" or "write Aemond x reader smut" then I'd say there's not enough to go on. Hope that makes sense!!

Anyway, NSFW sub!aemond below the cut :))

This ask is in reference to the brothel scene where Aemond admits that Aegon essentially forced him to sleep with a sex worker when he had just turned 13.

I'm sure I've babbled on about what I'm about to say before but oh well here we go again: I think that a big part of Aemond's discomfort with the sex worker wasnt just because he was being forced to lose his virginity but because of how utterly exposed he felt? We all know how closed off and composed Aemond always tries to be, and we know he has plenty of insecurities both from his missing eye and from being the second son. The concept of sex as a whole had always felt uncomfortable and far too vulnerable. To lay completely naked with another? Aemond couldnt imagine a scenario where that wouldnt feel terrifying.

And then he turns 13 and Aegon shoves him into a brothel and all his worst fears are confirmed. The sex worker's eyes shamelessly travel across his body and he has to fight the urge to wrap a blanket around himself. The lights are too harsh, he can hear other people having sex outside the room. r

When he leaves there he's convinced he'll never lay with another again. He even decides that he'd let his future wife fuck the first blond hair man they can find and call the resulting child his heir because he couldnt bring himself to be the exposed again.

But then Alicent introduces him to you and you throw a rather large wrench in his plans because you don't do any of those things that left him feeling exposed?

Even before the wedding, you're always checking his boundaries and ensuring you abide by them. If he seems uncomfortable you step away and you ask. And beyond that, you form a real, genuine bond with him that he's never had with anyone before never mind with a romantic partner.

The truth is that Aemond just really loves being around you? He doesn't even notice his walls beginning to crumble because he just feels so safe with you. For the first time he's not constantly having to prove himself.

You're shocked by how different he is to how everyone else had warned you he'd be. You don't see an ounce of the danger and dominance so many others had warned you off, hell even his own mother warned you of. But those traits have always been due to a fight for survival, due to him having to come out on top or risk being ridiculed or worse.

So when you come along and you make it so that he doesn't have to fight for love and respect and recognition? Then all that violence and anger slips away because he doesn't need it here.

You start out VERY slow.

Aemond can best be described as almost skittish when it comes to sex and intimacy. He likes it, but the moment something moves just slightly too quickly he's jumping up and going to hide in his own private chambers.

The first time you kiss him after the wedding, he very nearly starts crying because you just kiss him so gently with absolutely no indication of wanting to go any further than that. Aemond realises he could happily spend hours like that, with the two of you laying together and trading soft kisses.

He tells you about the sex worker eventually, maybe Aegon actually makes a comment about it? Like a few weeks into the marriage Aegon decides to tease Aemond and ask him if he still goes back to his first or if he's actually fucking his wife. (Aegon promptly sprints out the room immediately after saying this because the look in your eyes when you turned to look at him was absolutely terrifying)

So he opens up about the sex worker with you, and he full on sobs when you say he deserved better and that he deserved to feel safe, that sex should always feel safe.

From then, you put a lot of time and effort into ensuring that your chambers together becomes that warm, safe place aemond was missing. You only approve 3 servants who are allowed into your chambers with Aemond, and only 2 are allowed in at a time. No servants can come into the chambers unprompted either. If you want the sheets cleaned or the laundry taken to be washed, then you will call one of the 3 approved servants but servants are not allowed to do those things on their own, only when you request it.

Once that's been sorted you start getting the rooms themselves into a better state. You keep candles all over the walls, get the softest blankets and pillows you can. Maybe you also get some of his favourite books to put up? It's a slow, gradual change but Aemond notices every single change and every time his breath it taken away at how perfect you are. He never even had to explain how vulnerable he was the first time, you just knew and you knew how to make him feel comfortable.

The actual sex takes longer of course, and there's plenty of oral and makeup sessions before he's ready for more, but when you do get to the main event he can't believe how good he feels?

The way you praise him and check in on him brings tears to his eyes, and when you gently wrap a blanket around his shoulders while you stroke him he really does cry. Just that simple gesture of putting the blanket over him makes him feel so much less exposed.

Sex is always a calm, quiet affair with Aemond. Make no mistake, you certainly get edge him and overstimulate him and all that fun stuff, but that's never with standard sex. If you're doing those other things then you're either pegging him or using your hands/mouth. The actual act of sex, that is always gentle. It's the gentleness that really breaks him.

(One quick sidenote to end off: cockwarming, how the flying fuck have we never discussed it? I'm now now picturing a scene where it's the first time you go the whole nine yards, but then from the moment Aemond slowly enters you, he just stays still? At first you think he's trying to get used to the feeling but when even more time has passed and he still hasn't moved, you ask him that's going on and that's when he kinda just collapses into your, his cock still inside and mumbles about how nice this feels. So needless to say, actual sex was not achieved that day)

[a-simple-imagine]

Nothing But Cowards

Requested by anonymous: “I was wondering if you could just write about, having a fight and then make up, fluff and angst? If not that’s totally fine”

“I'd like to request a Jordan Li x fem reader where they're dating in secret from the friend group because of everything going down but one morning they oversleep and one of their friends find them curled up in bed together and it's followed by giggles and fluff?”

Pairing: Jordan Li x fem!reader

words: 3.7k+

WARNINGS - mentions of weird hospitals and tortured kids, strong language

GodU had always been your parents' dream. they held such high and heavy hopes for you. their perfect little superhero. a future member of the seven. when you were younger, you hated the idea. you felt... exploited. they forced this life onto you. gave you compound V and for what? so you could become some clog in a corporate machine? help sell merchandise for Vought? but as you got older and realised that you were kinda stuck with your powers, you felt more obligated to follow through with their dream. to actually be a hero. so you applied for Godolkin University. got in. and became a crime-fighting major. that is how you met Jordan Li. They were much stronger than you would ever be. both physically and mentally. the ability to shift between two forms gave them two separate skill sets all wrapped up in one identity. and they were so confident in their identity. not always a boy. not always a girl. just so confidently themselves. and you admired them so much. They were truly the strongest person you knew or at least you thought so.

it was a weird moment shrouded in the darkness of night. you were shaking a little from rage or the cold, you couldn't quite tell. everything was so incredibly fucked. Marie's roommate had gone missing because of some stupid plan of Andre's imagining. you just found out that there was some weird hospital under the school that was experimenting on people; including Sam, Luke's brother who was apparently still alive and in fact did not commit suicide. not to mention Luke was still gone. he used to give some great advice. used to kick your ass in sparring sessions but would occasionally let you win just to keep you on your toes. he was your friend. and you missed him a lot. you could never understand what happened; or why it happened. All these mysteries were piling up like old comic books. so many chapters to one confusing story that if you missed a single issue it became almost impossible to follow. this was impossible to follow. everyone was arguing. people were taking sides. Marie wanted to find Emma, who had infiltrated the woods, to help Andre who was trying to save the kids trapped down there. Jordan was more pissed about rankings than tortured kids. Cate wanted everyone to just back up and not do anything reckless. you wanted to yell at them. you knew rankings were important to Jordan. they wanted to be the best. at least Cate was worried about not dying. your parents' words hang heavy on your shoulders. this was your chance to do some good. to live up to their dreams without becoming just another vought puppet.

"don't you want to be a hero?" your voice is loud. louder than expected. the question was mainly aimed at Jordan. the person who went toe to toe with Golden Boy just to protect Marie; someone they hardly even knew at that point. that was after the club. you wish you could say you don't think about that night. everyone else seemed to just move on but it haunts your dreams. it's a cloudy memory of white powder and thick red liquid. "we almost killed someone."

there is a brief flash of something. Regret, maybe? before the expression turns dark and defensive. "we didn't do shit." and that was partly the problem. you didn't hold the weapon but you still ran. you left a woman to bleed out because you were too high. even sober, you wouldn't have been able to do much but you could have done something. anything. Nobody likes to talk about that day. the same way nobody talks about what went down with Luke. or how, if they had their way, nobody would talk about this weird hospital. If Cate and Jordan got their way, you'd just go back to school where all that mattered was who held that number one spot. currently andre. not Jordan.

"Exactly which is worse, if it wasn't for Marie we would have all been royally fucked." you articulate. irritation bubbling deep in your chest. "we can do some good here- we can help people."

"you're just gonna get yourself killed"

"at least I'm not running away again," you say. Jordan can make all the scooby doo references she wants but you wouldn't entertain the thought of leaving this down to Marie once again. "you wanna know why Andre is number one instead of you?"

"politics."

"because he is the only one person here who is trying to do something." You growl. "you're just a selfish asshole." if all they cared about was their ranking then you had to explain it in terms they'd understand. Their jaw tenses.

"Okay so what does that make you?" they spit. a particular venom dripping from their tone. "I've helped people- actually saved people. can you say the same?" they ask. "you're basically scared of your own shadow."

"Jordan don't."

"no," they interrupt Cate before she can continue. "I may be selfish for not wanting to go on some stupid suicide mission but when you realise what's really at stake here, don't come crying to me." Jordan's words hang heavy in the air, how do you even reply to that? your mouth opens but nothing comes out so you just walk away. Leaving your friends to continue arguing. 

a bitter flavour lingers in your mouth. a painful feeling concealed deep inside your chest. you can't control how others perceive you but is that really how Jordan sees you? some coward who ran to them whenever things got tough? maybe they were right. you were no hero. you may have superpowers. you may spend hours studying techniques and training in the gym but that's just school. it didn't mean anything. You had never saved the day. you had never actually done anything. you haven't spoken to Jordan. Not since that night. they had texted a few times but you haven't even opened them. you don't want anything to do with them right now but you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss them. you missed them a lot. nobody knew about your situation with Jordan. you had both decided to keep it on the down low while you figured stuff out. and with everything going on, it had just never been the right time.

a knock at the door. you don't bother getting out of the bed you had been rotting in for hours; staring up at the ceiling as the sun went down and darkness enveloped the room. another knock. you bury yourself deeper in your duvet but the knocking doesn't stop. it just gets louder. a loud groan as you roll out of bed. your roommate was always forgetting their key but when the door opens, your stomach sinks. it wasn't your roommate. you instantly close the door.

"Seriously,"

"fuck off," you yell back. they knock again. yanking open the door, you spy Jordan Li once again. femme. sweaty. gym gear. duffel bag hanging off their shoulder. "fuck off," you push on the door again but they slap their hand against it.

"Just give me a chance," they probably just wanted to yell at you some more and you weren't in the mood. you shove harder. "I could stand here all night." your brow creases. Jordan probably would too. they're very persistent. with a heavy sigh, you relinquish pressure on the door and it swings open as they let themselves in.

"what do you want?" your eyes follow her as she drops the gym bag down and begins wandering around your room. they had been here before. They knew what it looked like. their hand slides over the wood of your desk. they pick up the open book, presumably glancing over the content before dropping it back down. "Jordan."

"hm," they look at you almost perplexed. like they had been lost in their own little world.

"what do you want?" you request more firmly. they just stared back like it was a crazy thing to be asking. they drop back to lean against your desk. you're waiting for them to say something. anything. but their gaze just falls to the floor. you sigh softly, still loitering by the door. you would leave if this wasn't your room. "why are you here, Jordan?"

"I wanted to see you," their shoulders rise and fall. "everything is so fucked up. a hospital under the school like what the fuck?"

a secret hospital under the school was very messed up. you can't even imagine the things they get up to down there. also, Luke's brother was down there. that's why Emma went down in the first place before she disappeared. "yeah," you nod a little. "I guess."

"And Luke's brother being alive this whole time?" you wonder where this is going. you knew all this. you were there when everyone was arguing. your brow furrows a little.

"Can you get to the point?"

"well it's a little fucked isn't it?"

"You're being weird," you state. monitoring them carefully. they still wouldn't look at you but they did push up from the desk and towards the mini fridge.

"you got anything to drink?" they question, pulling it open.

"Jordan. leave."

"What?" they ask, still looking in your mostly empty little fridge.

"I said leave," you declare firmly. "I would like you to leave."

"why?"

"you know why." they sighed loudly, thrusting the fridge closed with a loud slap. "you don't get to just pretend nothing happened."

"I don't know why you're angry, you're the one who called me selfish." Jordan insists. "Said Andre was better than me."

"You are selfish. All you care about is your stupid ranking."

"It's not stupid," Jordan fires back. "It is important if I wanna get somewhere,"

"Who fucking cares," you groan "Like I get it, you wanna be a hero but this is way bigger than all that."

"And what are you gonna do exactly?" there's a bite behind her words. She's getting defensive. "Whats your plan to save the day Superman?"

"I don't..." you snap before trailing off to a much quieter tone. "know exactly,”

"It's a death wish,"

"We have to do something.”

“no, we don’t.” Jordan replies. “we don’t have to do anything. This is way above our pay grade.”

“of course, you’d say that,” you groan loudly. “can you leave now.”

"I-" They seem like they're about to bite back but they stop short. a tense jaw. they let it go. "I miss you, okay."

"I don't care," you did care. "leave." you yank open the door. For a beat, they seem taken aback but it rapidly fades. "now."

"just hear me out."

"no Jordan," you huff. "just go. I'm not arguing with you anymore."

they watch you for a second. "I don't want to argue" they clarify. "please?” there’s an unusual desperation in their voice. one you’ve never heard before. it builds a degree of sympathy amongst your anger. you let the door fall closed with a click.

“fine," you cross your arms over your chest "What do you want?"

"you were right," she declares softly. the statement alone takes you by surprise. Jordan? admitting she was wrong? you'd comically gasp if you weren't annoyed with them.

"I don't understand."

"I said you were right."

"No, I heard you," you explain. "look, Jordan-"

"I'm sorry, okay?" they reply sharply "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"why are you making this so difficult?" Jordan asks. "I've apologised so can we just watch a movie or something?" you raise a curious brow. Surely they weren't naive enough to believe you would simply forgive them just like that? There was more to this story that they were avoiding.

"you can't be fucking serious," a humourless laugh. "you don't even really mean it."

"I do though."

"no you don't," you sigh. walking towards them. "look at me and apologise- apologise properly."

"Ugh, I already apologised," they groan loudly, pairing it with a roll of their eyes. It just annoys you even more. "why can't you just forgive me?"

"Because you don't even know why you're apologising," you stress. "it's half-baked. you don't mean it. and I'm tired so-”

"I'm fucking scared" they blurt out. "I'm scared."

A look of surprise; shock. Their very loud confession caught you off guard. Jordan Li wasn't scared of anything. They’d made that bold claim a great many times. "of what?"

"of losing you," they yell back; their hands come up to run slowly over their face. Their hair becomes shorter. They physically grow taller. Shielded by his fingertips, it's pretty apparent that he shouldn't have said that or at least hadn't meant to. You don't know what to say; your head tilts slightly to one side. how do you respond to that? it still wasn't technically an apology. "for fuck sake."

"of losing me?" you recite slowly. "why would you lose me?"

"Because you're an idiot," they urge. "who wants to help people."

"dude."

"Sorry but like it's true. you're a fucking idiot," they repeat. "and I admire that."

"I'm... confused," you mumble softly.

"I admire how much you wanna help people despite knowing it’s stupid and you're probably gonna die" You can't tell if Jordan is just oblivious to what he was saying but it was far from getting him back in your good graces. "I wish I could be like that. naive enough to think I can make a difference."

"I feel like you're just insulting me," you comment.

they shrug a little. "I know this is still kinda new, the whole me and you thing but…” you can tell this is hard for them. expressing their feelings was not their strong suit. Their head hangs low. “it doesn’t matter,” they walk towards you but instead veer off towards their bag. you reach out for them; taking their hand. they were running hot, a sweaty hand.

“you can tell me,” you express, a gentle squeeze. “we’ve been friends for ages…”

“you’re just gonna call me selfish again.” their voice a whisper but they make no effort to pull away. You step closer.

“then you’ve got nothing to lose, right?” it’s a joke. a harmless one but they don’t laugh or even acknowledge it.

“I… I just don’t want you dying before we get a chance to really explore whatever this,” they use their free hand to motion between you. “is. so yeah, I lashed out because I like you or whatever and want you alive. sorry.” you watch them for a moment. their inability to meet your gaze. the light dusting of pink that graced their cheeks. it was really sweet if not a little unexpected. Jordan was so cool most of the time. it was a rarity to see them express such emotions. it makes you smile. you just laugh a little in amusement.

"Jordan," you say warmly. "you're not gonna lose me," you step even closer, reaching for their other hand; running your thumb over their knuckles. "I understand what you're saying but I don't think it's reason enough not to help,"

"I know," the express softly, finally meeting your gaze. there is something unspoken behind those eyes but you choose not to push. “I wish it was.”

you keep your eyes on there’s taking in this tender moment. a moment of vulnerability. a moment of connection. you relish in the way their hands fit so comfortably in yours. you really liked Jordan. liked their attitude. admired their strength. wished for their sense of loyalty. you were so smitten. so lucky to be their chosen person. a smile settles before you slowly lean in. It catches them off guard but they soon settle into it. “I’m scared too,” whispered against their lips. "but I think the bravest thing we can do is try anyway.“ his eyes flutter closed, letting his forehead fall against yours.

"I didn't mean it when I called you a coward," Jordan whispers, his eyes open. Lingering on yours. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

"I am a coward," you express. "I've always wanted to be a hero. it's all my parents want. but I'm scared. terrified. I never could have fought Luke like you did. but I wanna try now. I want you to try too," you ghost their lips. It's subtle; intimate. "if you really wanna protect me, Jordan, you'd help because I'm doing this with or without you."

"do I have to decide right now?" they ask quietly. You're almost disappointed by their reply but you can't really blame them. This wasn't another student hero gone rogue. This was a whole institution willing to do anything to keep its secrets. "do you forgive me?"

"do you forgive me?"

"I was never mad at you,"

"I was mad at you." you declare.

"I know," they nod. "you weren't exactly subtle about it." their expression becomes playful and bright; a strong contrast from the conversation you were just having. You can't help but smile as you pull back.

"do you wanna stay over tonight?" there's a shift in the air. all that tension fading away. you're not mad. you're not thrilled either. but you liked Jordan. a lot. and you could understand their desire to protect you. In a way, it was very sweet. You didn't realise how much they liked you. "we could watch that movie? or Property Brothers? whatever you want."

"Whatever I want, huh?" their hands vacate yours and instead move to your hips. Pulling you close. ever so close. pressing their body ever so slightly into yours "Anything at all?" masc! Jordan was taller than their male counterpart but far less intimidating. firmer. gentler. it’s a rather present contrast.

"you're such a perv,"

"you don't even know what I was gonna say," they insist.

"Anyone with half a brain could figure it out," you tease. their hands slip around to the small of your back pulling you flush against them. playing into your words. "but what Jordan wants. Jordan gets." whispered in their ear, you place a gentle kiss upon their cheek. "right?"

you can feel them practically shudder against you. A heavy sigh left their lips. "oh she wants to play tonight?" all signs of sincerity washed away by something darker. desire. you meet their eyes, lips quirk up into a smirk before they lean in once more. it’s ever so light but you’re quick to deepen the kiss; chasing that warmth that spills through your veins but they pull away instead. mischief laces their expression. their fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. they pull back just enough to murmur, “I’m gonna make you beg for it,” their words hot against your ear. A shiver spills down your spine as you lean into them; wanting to be closer. As close as possible as they guide you back towards your bed.

it's safe to say you're smitten with the infamous Jordan Li. and when it comes down to it you're delighted when you're together. they bring out a more mischievous side of you. and you like to think you bring out a more vulnerable side of them. You shuffle further into their embrace. Basking in the feeling of their arms around you as you hide from the rising sun peeking through the blinds. A content hum as you drift in and out of consciousness. Still so early. You feel them lean more into you.

"what the fuck," a voice drags you to the land of the living. And as your tired eyes flutter open, your friends stare back. Both you and Jordan shoot up, instantly breaking any contact. Pulling the covers up to hide the fact you were both very naked. Marie stands at the end of your bed; wide eyes and a slightly agape mouth. Cate and Andre are just by the door. how the fuck did they even get in? "we should- sorry," you watch Marie scramble for the door shoving Andre out just as Cate yanks him.

you both fall back down in unison. If anyone had seen it would almost seem planned. After a moment, you roll back into them. giggling into the crook of their neck. after a moment you nip the skin. "guess we're not a secret anymore," muttered against their skin.

"This isn't funny."

"it kinda is," you shrug "Quite the shock for those three." A giggle before you sink your teeth into her neck earning yourself a satisfied sigh but they're quick to push you away. A stern look on their face

"you agreed it was best we didn't tell everyone until all this craziness was over."

"yeah but don't you feel just a little relieved," you ask. You can practically see the gears turning in their head. It's... Cute. You move so that you're now straddling them, hands drifting delicately over their chest. Their skin is so warm; and soft. Their short bob is a mess against your pillow. they looked so peaceful. so beautiful. A strip of yellow sunlight reflected off their chain. "I'm glad everyone knows now. plus," you smile mischievously. "now I can kiss you whenever I want. " You lean down slowly and place your lips against hers. "and that's all I want," mumbled against their lip.

"I guess it is one less thing to worry about," they muse, bringing their hands up to rest against your hips. her fingers apply just a little bit of pressure. you peck their lips once more before pulling away. a gentle tap on their nose, their face scrunches up.

"you shift in your sleep sometimes did you know that?"

"What?"

"you were definitely a guy when we fell asleep and then suddenly I'm snuggling up to a girl? is it like a conscious choice or?" they hesitate for a moment before playfully shoving you off them.

"shut up,"

"ow!!" you groan dramatically, falling down against the bed. "ow. that hurt so much. I'm in so much pain. how could you be so mean," you groan loudly, shuffling about a little for dramatic effect.

"you’re so dramatic,” Jordan rolls their eyes but a mischievous grin spreads over their lips. “now get up we’re gonna be late.”

“for what?”

“class.” they sit up. a hand coming to settle on your stomach. you don’t move. and neither do they. and in those few seconds, everything feels at peace. “you really are beautiful,” they eventually say before finally getting out of bed.

[wenellyb]

How I feel about Buddie...

You guys have been warned, this is a long post.

I've always liked 911 and was a casual viewer but never got involved in the fandom or anything. Of course I knew about Buddie, but I personally never saw it. Buck and Eddie have always acted like best friends and do stuff best friends do. I have never seen any scene that could be interpreted as romantic, except maybe for the "you want to go for the title" scene. But to me it wasn't enough to ship them, especially since it was the only scenes in their hundreds of scenes together that could be seen as romantic.

That being said, I've always thought the ship was cute, and I understand it because who doesn't like a good friends to lovers storyline?

I just never got involved in the fandom because their behavior reminded me of the Stucky and Destiel fandom, which were chaotic experiences for me. Some people just don't know how to handle non canon ships and act entitled, complain to the showrunners and harrass the cast. I've always tried to avoid fandoms like that, but wasn't against the idea of Buddie as a ship.

The 911 Lone Star crossover episode for me was the confirmation that Buck was into men. To me, it was obvious they confirmed he was into men but hadn't set up a storyline yet. So naturally I thought... if they set up a storyline it will be with Eddie. There was no doubt it my mind.

So fast forward, a few years, I wasn't really watching season 7 and then I see all the fuss from Buddie shippers I follow, and it makes me watch the sneak peek video from 7x04 and I'm like....For sure Buck is being jealous right? (it was the scene where Eddie interrupted Tommy giving Buck a tour)

So I decided to watch the episode convinced this was going to be the episode where they confirmed Buddie, but I was also very cautious because Buddie shippers had cried wolf too many times before.

So I was careful, but I was also convinced that this was it: "Buck was going to get jealous of Eddie hanging out with Tommy and then confess his feelings or the other way around".

And that's actually what was happening until the end of the episode, we saw Buck get jealous, and most of us assumed he was being jealous about Eddie.

We didn't figure out until the end of the episode that it was all about Tommy.

And that's the beauty of that episode because you think you're watching something when in fact you're watching something else and when you rewatch some scenes you understand it, and that plot twist was written so beautifully.

So we have Buck and Tommy have a heart to heart in Buck's kitchen and they kiss. And what a kiss... the kiss itself was Nice but the look Buck gave Tommy after the kiss was breathtaking.

From that moment on, I was rooting for them.

But I still had Buddie at the back of my mind because I was thinking, what if this is all temporary and they're planning to break them up to set up a buddie storyline? So I shipped it but didn't want to get my hopes up.

This feeling got bigger when I started watching 7x05 and I saw the way their first date ended. I thought... this is it, we might not see Tommy again, what a shame. But then Buck talked to Maddie about his date and confessed it was with Tommy. And Maddie asked: "so tell me about the hot pilot", and I thought this isn't how they'd talk about a character we never see again. But I didn't know for sure.

Maybe they were setting up a Buck x Eddie storyline....

I changed my mind when I saw Buck's coming out scene to Eddie, the scene was beautiful and at that point I still was thinking Buddie was a possibility. But one line made me think that Buddie wasn't happening: "I can't stop thinking about him".

No writer would put a line like that and have Oliver say it like that with that look, if they were thinking Buck and Eddie would have a romantic scene in the future. And if you do write that, you would get a jealous reaction from the other character, not a "You should call Tommy".

And then I was conforted in my feelings when the writers doubled down and had Buck invite Tommy to Maddie's wedding. Buck could have just apologized and asked Tommy on antoher date, but no, he invited him to his sister's wedding.

There has been absolutely no hint of a romantic relationship between Buck and Eddie throughout the season. There has never been a sign of jealousy from Buck or Eddie's side when they were dating Tommy, Marisol. If they had been setting up that storyline, the writers would put some hints here and there. Instead, they shared meaningful scenes like best friends do.

I never had anything againdt Buddie as a ship, I was even open to it, but all the times I thought Buddie was going to happen, it was because of the fandom, not because of something I saw in the saw...To me Buddie is and will stay a fanon ship.

TL:DR: I don't hate the ship, I find it cute but the behavior of some shippers has made me want to stay away from the fandom. And when I thought Buddie might be happening, the writers showed us they had long term plans for Bucktommy.

[yanderes-galore]

I'd like to ask for a Lego monkie kid Mk with your prompts 6, 12 and 14.

Sure! I love MK, such a sweetheart... despite the tendency to... oh I don't know... trap his partner?

Yandere! MK Prompts 6, 12, 14

"A good partner must be willing to make sacrifices for their beloved! Don't you agree?"

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

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

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Stalking, Isolation, Attempted Imprisonment/Kidnapping, Delusional behavior, Overprotective behavior, Consensual turned forced relationship.

You love your boyfriend... he's always your sweetheart.

How could you not? MK has always attended to your every need. He's a hero, beloved by many. MK has always vowed to keep you safe....

You'd never suspect him of anything.

Everyone expects heroes to be perfect. Unfortunately, it's exactly the opposite. Ever since MK's had to deal with the issues around his town... He's never been the same.

Around you, he's all giddy and excited. However, all the traumatic experiences MK has gone through has hardened him. How could he not worry about potential threats?

Especially when it comes to you....

MK knew he had to do something as your partner. After all, how can he protect you if he doesn't have his eye on you? The idea of losing you... well...

It stresses MK out more than anything.

MK does his best to show nothing's wrong around you. After all, he's your hero, he loves you. It's his job to have you loved, cared for... and most importantly... safe.

MK's paranoia only seemed to worsen the longer he dated you. The longer he was with you, the more he was attached. Horrible events are always bound to happen when it comes to MK....

At first, his obsession over your safety started by just following you around.

Watching your daily life or clinging to your side was originally how he tried to soothe his fears. Although, even that wasn't enough for MK. Eventually... He wanted to have a future with you...

But such hopes were quickly dashed once you found out his little plan to keep you safe.

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

It was bound to happen, really. You, as his partner, were going to find out about your boyfriend's imperfections eventually. Although, it wasn't anything small...

You had found a whole room in his house dedicated to you, surrounded with your interests and all sorts of different notes... along with a large bed... all meant for you.

"It isn't ready yet, baby... But, um, I was meant to sorta... ease you into it...?" MK panics, unable to look at your distressed gaze.

"Ease me into what...?" You ask shakily, looking around the room. It's your favorite color and everything. Is this the reason he didn't want you over at his house for a long time...?

"Ease you into, y'know, living with me...?" MK asks shyly, fidgeting with his hands.

"MK... it's a bit too soon—" You try to speak, but you're still in shock... and the look in his eyes doesn't help.

"A good partner must be willing to make sacrifices for their beloved! Don't you agree?" MK desperately blurts out, caging you in the room. You panic, was he trying to trap you here...?

"I get that, but-" You try to speak but MK doesn't give you time to recover.

"If you live with me, I can keep you safe! That way we can both sleep easy at night... and I can make sure nothing hurts you!" MK forces a smile, but you can see the desperation in his eyes. "C'mon, baby... It's perfect!"

"MK... You didn't need to do all this behind my back! I'm fine... I can be okay at my own home! We probably shouldn’t live together so soon...." You try to talk him down, getting close to slip by the door.

Mk, however, pushes you back and locks the door to your new room...

Your new home.

"It's too dangerous in the world. You need me, you should know that!" MK pleads, stepping closer as you back away.

You try to find a way to avoid him but there's no use. The room has no windows you can open and MK has the door locked. You try your best to plead, but MK doesn't listen.

"Babe, please..."

"You've SEEN what I deal with out there, right?" MK states sternly, glaring at you as you back yourself near the bed. "Lady Bone Demon, Azure Lion... I've had to deal with calamity after calamity since becoming Monkey King's student!"

You're practically on the bed at this point as MK stands in front of you. There's annoyance in his eyes, but desperation glistens the most. There's no reasoning with your boyfriend...

Is he even your boyfriend at this point...?

"You... just don't understand, baby." MK tries to reason, gaze softening once he sees your fear. "You don't understand the world's dangers... but I do."

MK gets on the bed, sitting between your legs as he cups your cheeks. His gaze and smile are soft, but you feel threatened in his grip. MK, your perfect boyfriend who you used to trust...

Scares you more than any demon could.

"This is why I made this room for you. This is why I need to protect you. I'm meant to be a hero... and you're meant to be my partner. Baby... living here won't be so bad!" MK grins, acting like you two are going to be married or something.

"Just... Let me protect you...." MK whispers, leaning in closer to ghost his lips over your own.

"Let me love you like your boyfriend should...."

It's then you wonder if any of this is real. You wonder if this is all some nightmare your brain conjured due to MK's odd behavior. Maybe you're not really trapped and this is a sign to reconsider your relationship with MK—

Yet, the moment you feel MK's lips on your own, you know it's real...

That thought alone is enough to make you cry.

[bridgetoesoteria]

💞 🦢Your Dream Honeymoon... + how will your connection evolve

Today the cards will be your travel agent. 2 tickets for the lovely newlyweds to their dream destination...

Take a deep breath and choose a pile (left to right).

PILE 1

Off the bat:

So I am immediately getting a trippy feeling. You could be under the influence. For some of you this would be something you and your person have in common. For others, it'll be more of a "when in Rome" kinda thing. It feels surreal in some way. For some, you might have eloped and you are trying to process the decisions you've just made. You could try a lot of "exotic" foods.

4-card spread: Queen of Pentacles, 2 of Swords (R), 6 of Swords, 9 of Wands (R). BOTD: 6 of Wands.

It will definitely be somewhere that you would have to fly to. Some of you will have to get over a fear of heights or flying for this. Where ever you and your spouse have chosen won't be near a lot of water. It could be a landlocked country or somewhere in dryer climate. Like a country with deserts. That's interesting that imagery is coming up because you also chose the picture of Dubai.

In this deck, there are soo many cards with water but all I pulled were cards with desert like images. The one card with a large lake came out reversed. I think you will love the weather. Maybe you enjoy warmer climates or this could even be "home" for some of you. I think you will be very well-prepared for this honeymoon. Money will be right, activities will be planned...I think this is a place you have done plenty of research on. I am getting the message again that this could be "home" in some way. So you could have ancestral ties to the area and it will be very grounding. You and your partner will feel deeply connected to the land and may even consider relocating there permanently. Some of you can afford this because you are in the medical field (with a very nice salary).

I think it will be quite a bougie experience tbh. I see you being waited on, hand and foot. Literally! I am seeing back rubs, possibly meditation or some nontraditional, holistic care. You could be going to the spa, going for walks/hikes, receiving acupressure or massages, and maybe laying on hot rocks?? You could ride horses or get into some kind of vehicle that is connected to an animal. Your spouse will probably be someone that is quite busy and usually super serious. But they will set that aside for you. They really want to be in the moment and start the marriage off right by showing you, "I will prioritize us, when we are together." They probably have already sent out a company wide email letting everyone know they do not want to be bothered from X day to X day. Even if the place is on fire...figure it out!

Oooh so you will definitely feel cared for and safe with your person. If you usually feel like everything is all on you, you will see that your person wants to lighten the load. That is why you will be able to relax and enjoy these different treatments. I also see that your person would have little surprises planned. Like you think you're just going out for dinner, then a guy with a camel shows up on some Princess Jasmine type shit. And you're all shocked but of course your person knew. Then your fairytale ride takes you to either a beach or a restaurant. It will be somewhere empty because your person made sure it was that way, even if they had to shut down the restaurant for the night. There will live music but probably more instrumental than singing. And of course, there will also be delicious food 😋

Your Connection:

So I was already kind of getting an idea of how the honeymoon would change you as a person (i.e. less tense, more secure). But how will it change your connection?.... You will definitely feel like you are being brought closer together. There may be tension for some reason at the start of the honeymoon. I feel like it will mostly be you. Maybe thinking too much of the past and worrying about the future. But you both will acknowledge your struggles, your strengths, and what you hope is yet to come.

Specifically, some of you may come up with a business idea while on your honeymoon or may decide to view property. You will both learn how to be patient with one another, when to swallow your pride and realize if this is who you want to spend the rest of your life with, that's a long time to be arguing and doing the "tit for tat" thing. So your relationship dynamic will mature quite a bit. You could be one of those couples that everyone sees as OTP. This could inspire jealousy because you both stand out. You may have had rough times, I think mostly due to your busy schedules, but you always know that you want to be with each other.

You will both be healing your self-worth problems. You will become comfortable with standing out. Your person will stop defining themselves by their financial success. I think you will be surrender to the experience and just allow yourselves to be raw. I am getting that trippy feeling again. Like a really deep, amazing indie movie, that changes your views on life afterward. If you or your partner are usually more skeptical, I think you will tap into your spiritual side. Your partner could join you for nature walks, stargazing, meditation, or yoga. Lastly, you may put on some kind of special show or choreographed event for your partner. You will grow in confidence by the end of this trip.

PILE 2

Off the bat:

I'm getting a hustle and bustle kinda vibe. So maybe your honeymoon will be somewhere busy. Some of you may visit a major city or even a quaint town that has a busy market or town life. There could be a lot of exploring and buying cool trinkets to remember your trip. You could be more of a lowkey couple, because this feels like you are both on a normal trip. You aren't overdoing the "romantic honeymoon" thing. Its like you are going on a trip you otherwise would have, but you are doing it together, as a married couple now. That is enough to make it special. Perhaps you come from a small or quiet town so its nice to explore something different. I am seeing a younger couple

4-card spread: The Empress, 9 of Pentacles, 2 of Cups, King of Swords (R). BOTD: The Wheel of Fortune.

I see you both doing lots of touristy stuff. I think you will love it. The vibe is kind of like, you came from a different country and always heard about the place you want to go to. For example: You are outside the US, but finally getting the chance to visit NYC. You want to see historic landmarks, go to amusement parks, and stay at a well-known hotel. Some of you are going back to where you first met!

This is weird but y'all might participate in a protest. You either knew this was going to happen or kind of get caught up in one when you go out. But I think you will take all of it in and enjoy how authentic the experience feels. If you or your partner have kids, you will enjoy the time away. You will see a more relaxed side of your partner. They will be much more social. Its possible you could meet up with friends or family. You will be talking about the future a lot. Probably start being more concrete about when you would like kids and how many.

This is weird and very specific. (I meant for this to be a hypothetical, fun reading). Some of you could be going on this honeymoon, before your wedding. So maybe after the wedding one of you will have to go for an extended period of time. For others, this could be a babymoon. So you could be going on a little couples get away before you are busy with a newborn. Finally, some of you will find out you are pregnant while on your honeymoon and this will be really shocking to your partner, but I think you will both be excited.

You will spend a lot of time together. Going out for drinks, grabbing coffee, flirting, and having private conversations. Even when you are in a busy room, it will feel like you are alone. Your eyes will be locked on one another. You may be writers, or creatives in some way, you will have plenty of inspiration and will probably take time to "work." But it won't feel like work. You could both find a nice coffee shop and sit next to each other writing. I think you will still find chances to sneak away and enjoy your own company. You want to bask in the new emotions and excitement of marriage.

Your Connection:

You will probably experience a bunch of synchronicities that give you important messages or show that your ancestors/spirit team support your connection. You will feel like best friends, but also deeply in love. You will both be much more comfortable with each other afterwards. You will be a dream team. I'm not sure if either of you would verbalize this, but you will be extremely aware of how healthy this connection is. So, maybe you haven't had the best experiences. You will communicate in a healthy way, you will express your love to each other, and will always put a smile on each other's face. Arguments will probably be few and far between, because you will mostly be a harmonious couple. You will have great communication.

I think you specifically will receive a lot of downloads while on your honeymoon. You will both have positive, growth mindsets. Maybe this honeymoon will end up giving birth to something much larger.

PILE 3

Off the bat:

This pile feels "broodier" than others. Maybe you and your spouse are kind of goth or alternative. Or you could like darker things. You may be the type to go choose a historic destination for your honeymoon and tour ruins, old castles, or places the locals claim are haunted 👻

You could choose to visit a sleepy town. Somewhere that might be cloudy and rainy. Or, this could just be the time of year you are visiting. So this could be a fall honeymoon. Omg that's kind of a vibe tbh! Pretty fall leaves, ghost stories, cozy vibes with your boo 🤗

4-card spread: The Lovers, 5 of Wands, 3 of Wands (R), Ace of Cups. BOTD: 10 of Pentacles

I think you will probably choose somewhere nontraditional for your honeymoon. People will definitely have something to say about it. But I am going to ignore that energy because its not like its their honeymoon. In some way, you will be facing your fears. I think it may be through standing up to your family.

You will probably choose somewhere private, with a lot of nature. I see you visiting gardens and orchards. Some of you may pick apples or something while you are on this trip. You will probably face your fears of intimacy as well. Your partner will be all over you. Some maybe the privacy energy is because you will rarely leave your accommodations. You'll spend a lot of time in your rented property or the "do not disturb" sign will always be on your door lol. This could be your first time or it could be the first time you are with someone you truly feel safe with and connect to.

I don't know why but I am getting a sulky energy from you. So you may be upset with your spouse or feel shy around them. Not sure if this is an arranged marriage? I guess its also possible that being married and totally alone is making you feel shy. You may want to chill and read but your partner will pull you out of your comfort zone They will make you try new things, new foods, visit new places, even do something that feels silly and childish. Like maybe you are passing a carnival and they buy tickets because they want you to get on the carousel. They would probably win you a lot of stuff at the booths too lol. You could have had a tough past and this person just wants to see you happy. They want this honeymoon to be everything you have dreamed of and more. They could be trying to take your mind off of whatever could be bothering you.

You will eventually see that your partner is on your side, and that you feel so defensive because you are too used to supressing your happiness.

Your Connection:

One of you will definitely be leaving the past behind. Whoever is the one that is protective mode. I think it is you, but it could be the other person too. Your person will feel overwhelmed at the start of the honeymoon. They are happy with you but they want to know how to support you better. Their thought process is "this is our fresh start." I think you will grow more and more open to this. It will be scary but it will be much easier to do because you know you have someone solid in your corner. This honeymoon could finally convince you to go to therapy or confront some longstanding issue that you have never felt strong enough to face. This honeymoon could lead to a larger journey of self-discovery and accountability for both you and your person. I think you will learn how to be there for one another with it being codependent or enabling.

I really wanted to get this reading out to y'all. I know I promised a double post, so there will be another after this 😊🤞

I am also going to be doing personals so check out that post too 😘

I hope it resonated.

~ K

[steddieas-shegoes]

wrong date

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'wrong date'

rated t | 890 words | cw: mild language | tags: famous corroded coffin, jeff's dad finally accepts he has a rockstar son

🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻

It was supposed to be a special show, not even part of the regular tour. A stop in Indianapolis in a small venue, only 250 tickets sold, a shortened set with a new song list just for this crowd. They'd have merch available specific to this show.

It was a bit of an anniversary show, marking the ten year anniversary of their first time playing in Indy, which is the show that led them to signing their first deal.

It wasn't even a real tour date.

But when their merch arrived for it, they went into panic mode.

"How did they mess up the back?" Jeff was yelling through the phone on the bus, something he never did. "We were clear that this would have the art submitted with the date and location of this one show. It can't have the same back as our tour shirt!"

Frankie and Eddie watched Jeff from the couch as Gareth sat on the counter by the fridge. Normally, Jeff was incredibly calm when faced with a problem, especially one that could definitely be fixed. This could be fixed, though it would be cutting it extremely close to the show date.

"No. Fix it. Get them overnighted. I don't care if it costs you more money. Not having the merch we told fans we would is gonna cost a lot more." Jeff hung up, immediately banging his head against the cabinet in front of him. "It's so simple. They fuck up the simplest thing."

"You good?" Gareth dares to ask while Jeff is having a breakdown.

"How many times do I have to fix shit they fuck up? Why do they even get to be in charge of things if they can't handle it?" Jeff continues, ignoring Gareth's question. "We need a better manager."

"You mean like the last guy we had?" Frankie snorted. "Maybe we could call him in prison and ask him for help while he serves time for tax evasion and embezzlement."

"At least he got us the right fucking shirts!" Jeff argued, but quickly deflated. "I just want this to be perfect."

Gareth made eye contact with Eddie and Frankie before hopping off the counter and standing in front of Jeff. He placed a comforting hand on Jeff's shoulder.

"This wouldn't normally bother you this much. What's goin' on?" He asked.

"My dad's gonna be there."

It all made sense now.

Jeff's relationship with his dad had been...rocky. Not always. In fact, as a child, he was incredibly close to him, and they spend countless hours playing together, taking fishing trips, going to concerts.

But when Jeff started taking music more seriously than school, planning for a future on stage instead of in a college dorm, his dad had a lot of things to say, and none of them were positive. It broke Jeff's heart to lose his support, but it got easier to deal with the more successful they became.

When their recent album debuted at number one, Jeff's dad reached out to let him know he was proud of him. He didn't apologize, or even admit he was wrong, but he was trying a little. It was enough for Jeff from a distance.

But apparently it wouldn't be at a distance anymore.

"He's your VIP ticket?" Eddie asked.

Jeff nodded. "Him and my mom. They heard about it and insisted on coming to see what all the fuss is about."

"Who said there's fuss?" Eddie joked. "No fuss here. Just a lot of people who wanna sleep with us or be us."

"Yeah, I guess they wanted to get the experience without going to a regular show."

"We'll have the best show ever, then. Gotta show them how fuckin' cool you are, right?" Frankie said as he pulled Jeff into a hug.

****

Jeff's parents were the first ones backstage after the show, somehow beating Gareth's parents, Wayne, and Frankie's mom by minutes.

He gave his mom a hug, but hesitated before holding a hand out towards his dad.

Everyone watched as his dad looked down at it, then back up at Jeff.

Jeff dropped his hand, and only his closest friends in the world could see the disappointment on his face.

But his dad's arms wrapped around his shoulders, and the entire room breathed a sigh of relief.

"Proud of you, son. I'm glad you didn't listen to me."

"Really?" Jeff asked against his shoulder, voice wet and rough like he was holding back a sob.

"You're a true rock star. Can't say I ever thought it was possible, but seeing you up there, I know that's where you were meant to be."

When Jeff pulled away, he noticed both of his parents were wearing the shirts that had only arrived at the venue the day before.

Everything was correct this time.

When Jeff's dad turned around to say hi to Frankie's mom, Jeff looked at the date on the back.

"You're fuckin' kidding me," he groaned.

"What?" Eddie asked, watching the door for Wayne.

"They got the date wrong!"

Eddie laughed. "I guess our encore technically played on June 20th, so that's gotta be at least a little right."

"We have to fire our manager," Jeff shook his head. "Today. I'll hire someone off the street. Only qualification is knowing what a calendar looks like."

[chimggukchim]

But it will not and cannot be what it was before. Because these two have their separate lives now to live as well. Will they involve each other in their big moments? I have no doubt they will. And yes, they might spend time with each other's friends as well because that's how normal friendships work.

uhhh the same thing could literally be said about jikook. they've changed and that's ok, even the entire jikooker space was full of speculation about the "change" after AYS started airing because it was that obvious to everyone that they were different as a duo. Never did I think the same jungkook that planned a whole trip to tokyo and only bought jimin gifts, would in the future not be bothered to show up for jimin's solo work even when asked and that the two hanging out on tour every night together would only see each other because they filmed a travel show. I still think they're important in each other's lives, obviously they find comfort in each other's presence to enlist together which thankfully is exactly why the buddy system exists, but I do think their friendship has changed over time and I think jimin especially (like RM with team RM) leaned on other relationships when he was hurting, feeling depressed, and going through deep stuff. I'm glad jimin was able to find people who really understood him and could help him work through all that during that time. And that's fine too, friendships change over time and fill different needs.

People were really weird about the changes in AYS, making up theories about them breaking up or one being mad at the other or whatever other messy stuff, but I think it was just two friend who hadn't been on camera or seen each other in a while trying to find their footing again. Luckily I think they have the kind of friendship that can find its footing relatively easy, you know like that friend you haven't seen in years, but after a couple hours of chatting its like you're back to your old selves with each other.

I would have agreed with you had it not been for the fact that these takes are completely inaccurate. Nice try. Firstly, I don't know what jikooker space you were in (unless you're just trying to gaslight) but everyone was enjoying the content, celebrating jikook being together and being cute together. Not one jikooker I saw ever said, "Well...jikook are awkward and so clearly they're broke up".

And change? Different? Did we even watch the same content? The only thing different with AYS versus other content was that we were now getting just two members and not seven who could have played off of each other. It's also why the vibe totally changed when Tae came on...because just one more person meant 4 different dynamics to showcase as opposed to one.

Your point on JK not bothering to show up for Jimin at all? Really? Now where, when and how did we come to that conclusion?

Firstly, I don't know how new you are to the fandom but do you know that when Jimin was shooting for Serendipity and recording it, he purposely told the members he didn't want anyone there because it would be awkward for him?

The truth is when it comes to someone's art, sometimes they want to experience it by themselves even though they may have a significant other. Sometimes, it's easier for them to sound off of people not their SO.

But I personally believe that Jimin did share part of his journey with Jungkook - JK was clearly joking around in their Festa dinner when he 'accused' Jimin of sharing his song with others and not him, if the giant a$$ smirk he had on while saying it is anything to go by. He freaking also recorded Letter. Plus, if Jimin didn't reveal in the MiniMoniMusic interview that he, JK and Yoongi had met up, we wouldn't have known it happened. So clearly, these boys all meet many, many times and we just aren't privy.

Just because they don't talk about something publicly with fans does not mean it did not happen.

Jimin and Jungkook did actually see each other during their solo projects, and much more than we would be led to believe.

Next, Jimin, Jungkook, Joon and everybody else in BTS and beyond are in their right to lean on others for support and advice. And clearly they do (everyone has their own little circle of friends apart from the group after all...including jikook) but when did that ever mean they don't also lean on each other?

Here in the real world, a person's significant other isn't their be all end all for comfort, contact and conversation. But they are a big part of it, which I still firmly believe Jikook are for each other.

Because, like you said, they did CHOOSE to enlist together, because of that very same support that you tried to deny they are to each other. Because in no way would they have chosen the hardest route in the military otherwise. It's also a decision they would have made way before AYS was a thing, and during its filming as well.

Anyone who saw the Sapporo leg of their show, which was just weeks from their enlistment, could see the emotion there.

So, thank you for trying to firstly sneak your points in, you know, the 1. Jikook are friends/it's friendship, and 2. They're the same as taekook and changed.

But I'll stick to what I have personally seen, which is, yes, Jikook's relationship has changed over the years - it's just gotten stronger, more intimate, more supportive.

[hooksbooks]

Fanfic Writers Appreciation Day

This year I participated in @renegadeguild's Renegade Loves Fic (Writers) event for the first time, in which we celebrate Fanfic Writers Appreciation Day by binding two copies of a fanfic we love and sending one copy to the author.

I chose Florigenesis by @nientedal (and its sequel your roots send down to grow as an epilogue), which is a Megamind/Roxanne hanahaki story. Or, in the words of the author, "Less 'Hanahaki' and more 'mutually-requited pining with flowers thrown in for flavor.' " I loved the imagery of the flowers and had a lot of fun typesetting it with as many floral motifs as I could fit in it.

The flower Megamind ends up coughing up for Roxanne are dahlias, so I found some open-source images of dahlias sourced from books in the public domain to use as scene breaks and as a watermark behind the table of contents. Additionally, I used the font "Lime Blossom Caps" to use as a drop-cap at the beginning of each chapter. The text ended up being a bit more than 380 pages.

This is the first time I've done a book partially covered in paper instead of all in bookcloth. Before gluing the paper to the cover, I sealed it with homemade paste wax, which I think turned out really well. The book has a lovely feel to it--I'll definitely do some more partial-paper covered books in the future.

Also for the first time I sewed a headband on each book. It turned out fairly well. I used waxed linen thread as the core (the waxed thread that came with my bookbinding kit--its braided and so thick I can't imagine using it for sewing signatures).

Additionally, I got myself a chisel (and sharpening kit) to trim the edges, which turned out much better than expected. I still don't have something to hold the book horizontally while I trim so I'm still trimming vertically for now, but it turned out much better than trying to use a utility knife like I was before.

Technical Details:

Quarto size (quarter-letter, about A6)

Sewn-on made endpapers

Rounded but not backed

Sewn-on headbands (no tailbands)

Chisel-trimmed pages

Oxford hollow

The linen tapes are frayed and glued to the exterior of the boards

Sewn-on bookmark

Things I especially liked about this bind:

CHISEL TRIMMING! I knew it would up my game to have a chisel to trim pages with rather than just a utility knife, but WOW, it made SO MUCH difference! Once they were finished I kept petting the edges of the pages because they were just so soft and smooth and perfect.

I really like the sewn-in headbands. I'd probably use a bit thicker core next time, but they turned out well and I'm pleased with them.

I'm surprised how much I liked the paper-covered covers. I had planned on most of my books being full-bookcloth with this one as an exception, but with how much I like the look and feel of this book I will probably switch that around and do just quarter-bound with bookcloth unless I have a good reason to make an exception.

For the made endpapers, I glued just the edge of the endpaper to the white instead of the whole page. I quite like it--it's a lot more flexible this way and doesn't have a "noticeably glued-together" feel to it.

The wax paste turned out really well. It makes the cover feel very "finished" instead of just like scrapbook paper, which is what it actually is.

Things I'd like to improve for next time:

Because the text block is rounded but not backed, there's a little wrinkling of the endpaper glued to the board right at the hinge so it doesn't pull when the book is opened all the way. I'll have to experiment a bit more with this to figure out a good hinge for a rounded-not-backed book.

Although I love the flower cover, it's a little busy to have the title legible on the cover, so it's only on the spine. That's not a bad thing, but I'm not sure what I would do if I definitely did want a title/design on the cover itself.

I think honestly there's not very much to improve for next time. I'm very pleased with how this one came out--it's very nearly perfect.

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

The Feral Princess - Part 1

Marvel AU

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Theme: Soulmate AU / Medieval / Fantasy / Soulmate Marks

Summary: Bucky and Steve have known they were soulmates since they were children. Fate bringing a then sickly Steve and the future King together. War takes them apart and throws them back together over and over, in and out of each other lives, arms and beds. But something is missing and throughout, they know they are missing their third and final piece. The kingdom is now Bucky's and Steve's, the latter now a leader and no longer a sickly child. Both are war heroes, with the respect of their country and those that surround it. They are a force to be reconned with, admired and respected within the other royal houses. They could have any maiden or princess they wanted, but they don't want just anyone. They want their soulmate. They want their princess. Even if she is known as The Feral Princess.

Chapter Summary: *The easiest way to find your soulmate is to throw a ball, or you could just show a certain worldly lady your marks.

*This is an expansion of the sneak peek.

"A BALL!!! That's the best way!" Becca exclaimed.

Bucky rubbed his hand down his face, frustrated by his sister's input.

"Becca, why are you here?" He asked.

"I'm your sister, why wouldn't I be?"

"How did you even know this meeting was going on?"

The group, made up of all of Steve and Bucky's closest confidants, turned to look at Sam.

"It's not my fault, she wouldn't let me leave this morning and she is your sister."

"Maybe keep our plans out of your pillow talk." Bucky said disgusted, throwing a cushion at him in the process.

Natasha decided to try and move the conversation forward. This had already been the topic of every single meeting for almost a year.

"James, Steven, Rebecca does have a point. Balls are the usual way to find your soulmate, but before you interrupt James, I also know that isn't something you want to do. Too many people. Too many overeager maids, trying to part you both. There are other ways."

"Go on." Pushed Steve.

"Well, the chances are she could be of a similar standing to you, similar life experiences." Nat continued.

"Not many princesses have experience of war or know how to wield a sword." Clint threw in.

"Your wife could." Nat threw back.

"Because she was defending her family and, no offence honey, but you aren't a princess." He replied, turning to Laura.

"I'm not but Nat has a point."

"How so?" Asked Steve.

"There's always some sort of common ground, something familiar that ties you together." Laura replied, Steve nodded in understanding as Bucky huffed.

"So, we draw up a possible list" Nat continued, "princesses, maids and ladies of good standing. No meek and mild. Rule out any we know are wed, already with their soulmates, and then send for them or send someone to them."

Steve glanced to his left at Bucky.

"Buck?"

"Then one of you would have to see our marks." Bucky added.

"Yes James, that's how this works." Nat replied.

He sighed. He knew deep down this was the only way. He'd either have to scour every kingdom himself or throw a damn ball, and he couldn't let his sister be right.

"Fine!" He snapped standing abruptly. He began to throw off his boots and socks and pull up his trouser leg. Steve alarmed by his soulmates sudden agreement, started to quickly move to do the same.

"Should we send for Strange or Wanda? They could take an imprint" Asked Becca.

Natasha knelt down to examine their marks. Sure enough on their left ankles they had each others marks but alongside them, was another. Natasha smirked to herself. She knew those marks.

"No need for an imprint Princess. I know these markings."

Confusion washed over the group.

"What? How?" Asked Steve his voice quiet now. He'd always been careful to keep his covered and to his knowledge so had Bucky.

"A princess I know bares your marks."

"Who?" Questioned Bucky.

"Princess Y/N."

“You’re sure?” Steve asked nervously. He had been told once before of a match, only for it to be a lie and nearly rip him and Bucky apart in the process.

“I’d put my life on it.” replied Natasha.

“When?” asked Bucky.

“When what James?”

“When did you see her marks? Princesses, ladies, those from Royal households or court don’t usually flaunt their marks.”

“I met her during my time in France.”

Steve and Bucky both raised an eyebrow and glanced at each other. They were well aware of why ladies of the court and princesses go to France. Steve cleared his throat, a slight blush across his cheeks.

“And why was she in France?”

A smirk spread across Natasha’s face.

“For schooling of course.”

“Sam send a message to her guardians, we seek her hand.” instructed Steve. Sam nodded but was halted by Bucky’s firm voice.

“Wait! We won’t be seeking her hand.”

“Buck! You agreed, you said…” protested Steve.

“She has turned down every offer of courting and every marriage proposal from every admirer she has ever had, as have her guardians. The last one she shot through the leg with an arrow, the one before she threatened with a Wakandan blade, and then there’s the one the maid poisoned. So we make it clear that we are claiming her hand. Not seeking it. We are to wed her not court her.”

“So just so I have this right” replied Sam, sounding a little exasperated, knowing the trouble this could cause, “you want to send a message to the houses of Loxley AND Lionheart to say you are claiming the heart and hand and, well staking a claim, on their princess, the one known as The Feral Princess?”

Bucky was first to reply.

“Yes Samuel. Oh and make it clear, if she doesn’t come, I will fetch her.”

Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@animegirlgeeky

[sticker-star4]

There is one important thing about the Kirby anime that no one ever talks about. In the episode “Cowardly Creature” N.M.E. Sales guy informs DeDeDe and Escargoon that one of his monsters is missing. The monster, Phan Phan escaped from a program known as “Young Monsters of the Future” a program that is known to train monsters until they are traumatized from abuse which causes them to have no morals and destroy what’s around them.

This is a major reason why most of the monsters in the show are evil. Almost every monster Kirby has fought was more than likely trained there. All of the monsters the Star Warriors fought originally came from there. The monsters were probably trained to be sent to customers like King Dedede who constantly use them to get rid of Kirby.

I really wish this concept of the show was mentioned more since it was introduced late in the series. This episode came in a few episodes before the finale.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

While N.M.E. Tells Dedede and Escargoon about the program. He also mentions that a hacker was responsible for Phan Phan’s escape. Unfortunately we don’t know who the hacker is who saved Phan Phan from torment, but I have some theories about it:

1. Knuckle Joe

Knuckle Joe was able to work for N.M.E. before he betrayed them to battle off Masher. Maybe Knuckle Joe knew some things about the company while he was working as a monster manager.

Knuckle Joe developed hatred in his heart which caused him to transform into a monster. After Knuckle Joe redeemed himself, he didn’t want other monsters to experience the pain he has gone through. Knuckle Joe is a monster hunter, but understands that not every monster is worth hunting. He wanted to save as many untrained monsters as possible, so he hacked into the system to save Phan Phan.

2. Sirica

Unfortunately we don’t get to see much of Sirica’s life after “Crusade for the Blade” until the finale. In the finale she pilots one of the 3 rouge destroyas alongside Knuckle Joe and Sir Arthur. Maybe in between those two episodes she wanted to hack into the system to show her hatred for the company (Since the company created Kirisakin, a monster responsible for the death of her mother)

An interesting connection to this theory is that her weapon has the N.M.E. Symbol on it, confirming she knows something about the company. I want to know how she received the weapon and her life outside of Dreamland. I wonder if she has a similar role to Knuckle Joe where she is a monster hunter.

3. Both (alongside Arthur and his men)

I imagine that before the finale, all six came to an agreement that they should hack into the system to rescue as many untrained monsters as possible. Maybe Arthur did the planning while Joe and Sirica did the hacking together. Since Knuckle Joe knows where everything is, maybe not only he hacked to the web server but also led the Star Warriors where exactly the Destroyas are.

4. A traitor from the company

You know how Yamikage used for work for the GSA, but decided to later betray the army to work for N.M.E.?

Imagine the opposite of that

(Obv it wouldn’t be Yamikage, but I was just making an example) Maybe a worker that used to work for N.M.E. hated their job and decided to betray the company freeing one of their monsters.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Unfortunately we don’t know if the other untrained monsters were saved. In the Finale, Tokkori and Kit Cosmos planted a bomb that later destroyed the entire fortress killing any remaining monsters.

It’s honestly depressing to think that these poor creatures that were forced to train in this program never had their happy ending…

THE GOOD GUYS HAVE THEIR HAPPY ENDINGS, BUT WHY COULDNT THESE MONSTERS HAVE HAPPY ENDINGS TOO?!?!?

Dedede even says this line:

“And I ain’t got a way to order anymore monsters!” *While crying*- Fright to the Finish

This line also proves that the monsters didn’t survive the explosion

Young monsters of the future has such an important role to the story, and yet no one ever talks about it.

[starogeorgina]

Killer queen

Warnings: Incest

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen × Targaryen OC

1.04

“Muña!”

“Tré!” You call out as your son runs to you with his arms outstretched. The dragon keeper who accompanied him out of the pit nods, then excuses himself. You lifted your son up and kissed his chubby cheeks. “Did you have fun?”

Smiling brightly, he nods his head. Only a week after your son was born, Aemond began taking him dragon riding, so your son, who had just celebrated his fourth name day, was well acquainted with Vhagar. Tré learning to ride a dragon properly so young made you feel more confident for when he would be able to fly on his own dragon, Breeze, when they were both large enough.

His dragon came from a clutch of eggs laid by Aelora. Breeze’s body was silver and glimmered in the sun; his calm nature matched his bonded riders perfectly.

Tré points behind you, “Kepa!”

You watch as Aemond leaves the dragon pit and walks towards you. His toned figure is being hugged nicely by his riding gear as he struts towards you, looking pleased with himself. He rips his leather gloves off with his teeth before stroking the side of Tré’s cheek and brushing stray hairs behind your ear, saying, “You shouldn’t be lifting him in your condition.”

“Nonsense,” you say, shaking your head. “You just worry too much.”

Aemond’s hand rests against your swollen stomach. “I have every reason to be worried.”

Since the maester had confirmed you were pregnant again, Aemond had been treating you as if you were made of glass, which was understandable given how sickly you were during your first pregnancy. Goosebumps spread across your body as you watched Aemond take in your appearance, his eye blown with lust. He loved seeing you in revealing outfits, and the silver dress, which was almost completely backless aside from the thin fabric holding it together at your neck, seemed to be riling him up.

“I have a small counsel meeting to attend soon,” you say, handing your son over to him. Once you became a mother, you felt unsure of where your place was in your family; mother and father were king and queen after all, and having a baby made you want to take on more responsibilities to ensure his future was secure, so your grandsire suggested you attend your father's counsel meetings to learn the way of politics. “However, I will come find you after it while Tré is attending his lessons.”

You smiled, watching as your son snuggled into his father's chest, their silver hair blending together. Aemond still caressed your bump with his free hand while sighing, “I spoke to mother this morning. She wants to know how long we plan on waiting until we try for another once this baby is born.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her that we would have our own fleet within the next few years.”

You frowned at him; your first labor had lasted for days and was the worst experience of your life. Several times you begged for someone to end your suffering; of course the pain was worth it the moment your son was brought into the world, but you spent many years contemplating if you even wanted another, then decided you wanted your son to have a sibling, someone to grow up with. A subject you and your mother came to blows over several times.

Aemond chuckles. “I am only jesting, my love; you have already given me the family of my dreams. I would never ask you to go through this again.”

“I know,” you gulp down, feeling a wave of emotion hit you. “I should get going; I will see my favorite boys later.”

You walk away before tears spill from your eyes. By all means, you weren’t hurt or upset by your mother's question; you were angry. Angry that despite you having already made the decision not to have any more children after giving birth to the baby currently growing inside you, she insisted on trying to convince your husband otherwise.

—

When the council meeting was over, you spent some time trying to track Aemond down. He wasn’t in the nursery, library, training yard, or with any of your siblings, and Vhagar was flying riderless outside. It didn’t overly concern you as you knew he must have been inside the keep, but it was irritating as you wanted to spend some alone time with him.

When the knight opens the door to your bedroom chamber, you are welcomed by the sound of singing. You step inside and observe as Aemond sings a lullaby in High Valyrian as he pulls a black-scaled dragon egg out of his satchel.

You lean against the wall and say, “Fatherhood suits you.”

“And motherhood suits you.” Aemond turns around, giving you a devilish smile. He strides towards you, his hands gently gripping your hips, his lips now ghosting your own. “Especially this part, when you are full of my seed and swollen. The dragon growing inside you is strong. It’s easy to tell by the way you are glowing.”

“Hmm,” you nip at his lower lip playfully.

Aemond takes the opportunity and clashes his lips with your own, starting a long and passionate kiss. Just as his hands move to cup your heavy chest, there’s a knock at the door. Looking irritated by the interruption, he swings the door open himself, frightening the servant standing on the other side.

“My Prince,” the man says, giving him a neck bow before moving his attention to you, “princess. Prince Aegon sent me to tell you he’s awaiting you in the dragonpit.”

“Thank you, Silas.”

The servant smiles before bowing his neck again and leaving. Aemond rolls his eyes; he never understood your learning the names of all the servants who you interacted with daily.

You knew Aemond was furious by the way his jaw twitched as he watched you put on a black shawl to keep the chill off your bare back. Sternly, he says, “I thought you weren’t dragon-riding while pregnant.”

“No, I said I wouldn’t be riding on the dragon's back alone,” you corrected. “We will ride out on Sunfyre and fly back on Aelora.”

Unamused, Aemond repositioned his pants so that his hard-on was no longer visible. Huffing, he picks up one of his many books and sits down by the fire without saying another word. Aemond’s real issue wasn’t you going dragon riding; it was because he was jealous. Aelora would rip anyone who tried to mount her aside from you and Aegon to shreds, and your older brother would never let him forget it.

Your husband hadn’t made an effort to hide how envious he was of your connection to Aegon; a part of you always wondered if it was because it was the type of sibling relationship he craved himself, but you wouldn’t dare ask him, knowing the question would embarrass him. “Oh, my darling,” you say, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “I am simply trying to make the most of my time before the new baby comes, because when she is here, I imagine most of my time will be taken up with her and Tré.”

“I suppose you are right; besides, you’ll need to give our brother plenty of attention now before the new baby arrives. You know how competitive he can be.”

You pout at his words, “Aemond don’t-”

“You keep referring to the baby as a girl,” he says, kissing the back of your hand, changing the subject. “One of each would be nice; I hope she obtains her mother's beauty.”

You kiss him on the lips, then on the top of his scar above his eye. “It would only be fair since our son has gotten all of his good qualities from his father. I will see you once I return.”

“Be safe.”

—

On your walk back from the dragonpit, you hear two servants whispering in the hallway. They notice you staring and immediately curtsy. Smiling, you walk towards them and say, “Hello, I believed I heard my name.”

“Forgive us, princess,” a red-headed girl says frantically. “I meant no disrespect; I was just saying how beautiful your Targaryen hair is.”

“Oh,” your general said, surprised by her honesty. The same servant commented on your attire most days, commenting how wonderful it must be for a princess. “What do you like about it?”

Her face flushes red. “The braids, p-princess.”

“There’s no need to be so afraid. Do you like my braids as well?” You ask, facing the other servant.

She nods.

“Follow me.”

You lead the confused servants through the hallways until you reach your empty bedchamber. You had them both sit in chairs by the fireplace and begin braiding their hair to be similar to yours. During which time you learned the blonde's name was Laura and the redhead was Shayla.

While twirling strands of red hair around your finger, you ask, “How old are you? You look rather young to be working here.”

“One and two, princess.”

You had learned Shayla was the youngest of four daughters and that both her parents had died of a fever; her only living relative who was an adult sent them out for work immediately. “And you were the only sibling sent to work in the keep?”

“Yes, princess, my older sisters were sold to one of the brothels on Silk Street.”

Your hand immediately moves to your stomach, and you rub at it protectively. It terrifies you to think what kind of beasts the poor girls must have to deal with daily. “Do you know which brothel they are in?”

“I’m afraid I do not know princess; I haven’t seen them since the day we were sold. I do miss them terribly.”

You open your mouth to reply, but stop when Laura says, “Forgive me, princess, but it’s getting late. The head of the kitchen will scold me if I do not arrive before the sun sets.”

Hearing the fear in her voice, you give her permission to leave. When she’s gone, you return your attention back to the girl in front of you and ask, “What are your sister's names? And your last name?”

“Ava, Charlotte, and Bridget Our last name is Ford. Princ-”

“You do not need to call me priciness in every sentence,” you laugh softly. You make a mental note to ask Aegon in the morning to help you find these girls before finishing Shayla’s braid, saying, “Thank you for sharing with me. If it pleases you, I’d like to practice braiding your hair again, if that’s okay.”

Her eyes light up. “Of course, Princess.”

The young girl leaves your bedchamber just as your husband arrives; her grin never fades as she curtsies him on her way out, which puzzles Aemond, as most servants are too afraid to even look at him. He brushes it off and wraps his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “How was dragon riding?”

“Excellent; although I think I’m getting rather fat for it, I struggled to strap myself in.”

He presses a kiss behind your ear and says, “I shall inquire into finding straps with more stretch in it.”

“Perhaps,” you turn around to face him, not missing the devilish glint in his eye. You take hold of his hand, moving it to your breast and squeezing. “But I believe we have some time to make up for my husband.”