#we love ororo in this house

[your-average-toast-enjoyer]

Is the xmen franchise the best franchise in the marvel works. No. Definetely not. But do they have the best ship from the entire marvel universe? (Movie-wise at least) Yes. Absolutely. I watched all of the mcu after the xmcu and not even recency bias could beat cherik.

[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...)

[leviackermanstoes]

I REALLY WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING BASED OFF OF THIS

THIS IS 'RED'

SO ENJOY.

-

You didn't have hair like Jean. Or that fiery look in your eyes. Your skin wasn't smooth, and you were full of flaws only Logan refused to see. You weren't used to being second. Of course, you had been second for tests in the mansion or second in the bonding activities. Professor x encouraged everyone to play despite their exhausted groans, and you've played video games where you've come second to Ororo or Scott.

But never had you thought you'd be second to Logan.

There were people who had warned you. That Logan was not ready for another relationship. But you refused to see the signs in his struggles, and despite all that you had heard of the love he had for Jean, you still loved him.

Now, sitting out in the grass crying to the sound of the crickets, you regretted your decision to love another chance. He swore up and down, left and right, that he didn't love her anymore.

But a blind man could see it. A deaf woman could hear it. And a fool could do both with ease.

You were-are-a fool for Logan. You were a massive fool for him, and you had been since you played eyes on him. Every night you'd go to bed dreaming of him and every morning you dressed to impress him and get his adoration. But no matter what you did, he still looked at Jean and soon you began to lose the hope you once had.

And every night as you dreamed of him, he was dreaming of her.

-

"YOU THINK IM SOME KIND OF FOOL?!" You spat, pointing sharply at Logan.

Defensively, he scowled and slammed his hands down on the dining table, Chittering the plates and forks.

"WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?!" His voice boomed in the walls of the house.

"WITH ME?!" You exclaimed, your lip quivering. "YOU ARE THE PROBLEM LOGAN!"

He threw his hands by his head acting defeated. "Yeah, right, because it's never your fault, is it?" He scoffed.

Never my fault. Right. But when he woke up one night and stabbed me because he thought I had kidnapped Jean, that was my fault. When he wakes up to breakfast in the morning but it Wasn't Jean that had cooked it. That's also my fault.

It's always my fault

"NOT MY FAULT? WHEN IS IT NOT MY FAULT LOGAN?! YOU ALWAYS MAKE IT MY FAULT. WHY ARE YOU SO AFRAID TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY?!" You howled like a grieving wife.

To an outsider, it may have looked like you were screaming blue murder, weeping to the man who killed your lover. And you might have said to certain extent, the outsider is right.

"You were never there for me! Not once!"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. After the months and months of longing and weeping, long nights of screaming and horror within you, moments when you couldn't bear to be without Logan and moments when you didn't even want to think of him. Some nights spent holding him while he sobbed her name. Hers

"Fuck you logan" you spat venom "I tried to be there for you I really did. I really fucking tried. But you are a coward. You refused to let me help you and when you asked me for help it was always for me to put on her perfume"

You almost threw up. Gripping the wood of the table as you leant on it, wood chips splintering your nails felt softer than loving Logan.

"You are so selfish!" He boomed."You are a pathetic, cowardly woman! All I want is your help!"

You slowly got off the table, with all your strength you walked for the door. "Oh your gonna leave now?!" Logan hissed

You turnt to face him. "I was really hoping I would see the best in you logan, I was really hoping that one day we could have had a family, and loved them as our own. Now I see that if we had children, while I loved them as ours, you'd loved them as yours and jean's, and I can't have that. I can't live like this. Goodbye logan. I hope I made loving me worth your time"

[ffverr]

Ok so let me add my two cents to this and say how it isn't a good reference to Ororo and Scott's duel or history.

To do that I'll also compare McKay's reference in Avengers (2024) #18, which is just the proliferation of a fanon cliché at best, with Hickman's reference in House of X and Powers of X, which actually understands the context of the source material.

Storm and Scott's duel in issue #201 of Uncanny X-Men happens in a very specific context that both modern writers and fanon either forgot, don't know or misinterpreted it over time.

I-The necessary context:

Jean grey dies

Scott is deeply hurt by that

Over something like a dozen issues he decided to actually leave the X-Men as he doesn't feel up for it anymore.

The leadership of the team is naturally passed down to Storm that has always acted as a second in command to Scott. He often asked her opinion on plans and she often found last resort solutions when he was backed up against a corner.

On his "hiatus", Scott meets Madelyne Pryor. They fall in love, get married and Maddy is pregnant with a child as we learn when they reappear on the team in the mini: Alpha flight Vs X-Men.

Storm acts as leader of the team but goes through many changes, like losing her powers, which rattles her to her core and gives her some insecurities about her place in the X-Men as a leader.

An Asgard adventure tells the story of Storm and the new mutants getting kidnapped by Loki.

This emergency makes the rest of the X-Men call Scott back to the team's leadership for a rescue mission.

Madelyne is brought to Westchester to wait for the return of her husband.

After the X-Men's comeback from Asgard, The trial of Magneto is happening in Paris, where they are attacked by evil Mutants. They're immediately teleported to that emergency.

Charles Xavier almost dies, but is at the last minute rescued by the Star Jammers and his love interest Lilandra in order to get emergency care.

Charles is stranded in space, and no X-Men knows if he's even alive

This hurts Cyclops enormously.

During this long absence on the X-Men (asgard+trial of magneto), Madelyne gives birth to their child, Nathan, alone at xavier's mansion as Scott is gone fulfilling his momentary duty.

After their return, Madelyne feels like this huge absence from Scott and his half frequent comebacks to the team is making her lose him bit by bit.

So, with Charle's status as presumed dead, Scott, very paranoid and depressed, does the only thing he sees fit at the moment. Come back as leader because the team needs him without Charles around. This is Scott's pathetic attempt at regression to familiarity as Charles being dead and him becoming a father is a COMPLETELY new and very scary situation he's not sure to handle.

Becoming a leader again is a delusional idea considering he has pledged his presence and loyalty to his wife and newborn, in ALASKA, and Storm is already leader of the team.

Madelyne, pushed by the insecurity of her husband's lack of presence in their family, begs Storm to challenge him in a duel in order to banish the thought of leadership from Scott's head.

II- THE MISCONCEPTION ABOUT THE DUEL:

Storm didn't initiate it! She did not challenge Scott because she thinks she's a better leader than him or because she wanted to prove herself or even gain the leadership of the team for the first time (as some seem to think?).

She was ALREADY leader and completely agreed with Madelyne that Scott had to stick to his new family and responsibility as a father and husband. Ororo knows Scott extremely well, especially from an emotional stand point. Most of the time she sees right through him and she understands that this decision to come back to the X-Men as leader is coming from a place of deep confusion and loss. It's a coming mechanism for him, and she's not about to let him indulge in it when he's got new and more important responsibilities.

Thus, she complies with Madelyne's request and beats Scott in a duel for leadership.

#201 Uncanny X-Men

He snaps out of his delusional state (in which he couldn't even bring himself to communicate with Madelyne or be happy about the birth of his kid by the way).

He feels completely lost and dejected and comes back to his family. His relationship with Madelyne becomes distant and strained.(This plot continues in X-Factor).

Storm keeps on being leader of the X-Men and goes through her own hardships and journey for self determination.

So, no. Mackay's vision as this moment in time being "Storm can't go back to being under Scott's leadership because she's better than him or too cool to be a part of an X-Men team she doesn't lead" is utter bullshit.

III-Text, meta and fanon:

This fanon vision of the duel and later history between the characters just further carves the drift between storm and her friends that is already prevalent because of how many writers like to dehumanise Ororo as a character and limit her personal emotional relationships to the X-Men to a maximum.

Her and Scott have a deep friendship built out of mutual respect and their shared grief over Jean's passing.

God loves, man kills

She doesn't believe that her and Scott "can't go back to getting orders from one another" that's just a misconception....

The truth is, neither one or the other would mind taking orders from each other considering they work insanely well as co-leaders. (As they did during their time on the team as leader and second in command from #94 to Scott leaving the team)

The Meta problem :

The issue, of course, is meta-textual, and shouldn't be baked into the text.

Storm hasn't "outgrown" being on an X-Men team or being submitted to hierarchy. This is just mixing up meta textual and text.

Yes, as a character, Storm deserves to be pushed forward as a leader. It's a spot that suits her and puts her in a very interesting head space. It would be unfortunate for FANS and for the journey of the character to keep her subordinated to other leaders.

HOWEVER this isn't a feeling she has in comics. That just makes her relationship with Scott oddly bitter when in actuality, there is none of that...

Not to say they both don't enjoy a little fun teasing competition as "who's the best leader?" But it isn't that deep. It's not something they actually genuinely querelle about.

McKay's reference just feeds into the misconceptions about them and it sucks because they love working together! And this vision of their relationship just puts a useless drift between them that would, in the long run, take away their interactions from us.

To me, it's a cheap textual justification of why she wouldn't join Scott's Alaskan team when in reality she's just not interested in whatever fight he's fighting and thinks that at this moment she's meant for bigger things (protecting the entirety of planet earth, in natural continuation to her responsibilities on Arakko). It would have been completely fine to just say that instead of sticking it on them having a power struggle.

IV-Hickman:

Hickman's reference though is quite good! Not perfect, but it holds an overall good understanding of that spot in their relationship. (And their friendship in general)

In hoxpox Scott says "Once, I thought I was strong -- a leader of mutants. And then you showed me what strong was."

This line stays up for interpretation. But for me, it's Scott recognising that at that time, because of Jean's death and Charle's presumption of death, he wasn't in the right headspace to be a great X-Men leader. He was still dealing with a lot of codependency of Charles and jean and didn't just yet actually stand on his two feet in a way that wasn't fragile, strained and harmful for HIMSELF.

Meanwhile, Storm had lost her powers! She was going through a very very hard identity crisis. Dealing with imposter syndrome and overall depression. But that didn't completely hinder her leadership like it did Scott. She rained in her problems and handled the team the best she could.

Scott running away from his responsibilities as a father because of how complicated his bond to the team's leadership and members is, wasn't real strength. But Storm dealing with these life changing moments and still holding her ground was strength.

And that duel taught him this lesson. And that's why Hickman's reference is great. Not because Storm is an objectively better leader than Scott or whatnot, but because the two of them learned lessons about personal strength and perseverance from each other.

Storm responding with "I learned it watching you" is the cherry on the cake because she did. To a certain extent, on a tactical aspect, Scott taught her a lot about leading missions and that's undeniable.

Anyways, ted talk done.

Stan Ororo and Scott! The greatest leaders of the X-Men! Don't pit them against each other and leave their friendship feeling odd and distant for no real reasons. They'll never grow over cooperating.

[velvet4510]

What The Sequel(s) to X-Men: Days of Future Past Should Have Looked Like

I haven’t even seen X-Men: Apocalypse or X-Men: Dark Phoenix start to finish but thanks to this app i know practically the entire plots of both films and i’m just so utterly appalled by them. Not just with the way they mess up the timeline (Jean & Scott as teenagers and Warren as a young adult in 1983?? Excuse me?? No way Logan’s time shenanigans altered people’s birth dates, what??) But also with the way they just butcher every character arc - Charles being selfish? Erik settling down with a human instead of continuing to fight for his cause and make up for his 10 years of inactivity? Giving Erik an OC daughter JUST to kill her 2 seconds later rather than focus on his fatherhood story with Peter? Erik and Ororo siding with Apocalypse to destroy the whole world? Hank turning on Charles when he alone stood by Charles post-beach divorce all those years? Raven being ungrateful to Charles for creating a better world for mutants? Trying to convince us that Charles was somehow in love with Moira and Erik was somehow in love with Raven? The X-Men throwing Charles out of his own house?? WHAT IS THIS?????

Frankly I don’t get why the writers tried (and failed) to give us more Jean and Scott and Ororo when we got plenty of them in the other movies and we know thanks to the end of X-Men: Days of Future Past that Charles will still eventually recruit them. Jean and Scott’s very presence at the end of that film shows that the sight of Logan’s memories of Jean’s original fate prompted Charles to NOT repeat his other self’s mistakes and instead use a better approach to help Jean that enabled her to keep the Phoenix under control and not hurt Scott. That’s all we need to know about them in the new timeline. We don’t need to see Charles messing up yet again when it comes to Jean when that ruins a huge layer of the meaning and impact of DOFP’s ending.

James McAvoy himself pointed out how unnecessary it felt to recycle characters from the original trilogy when the X-Men in the comics are full of plenty of other characters that could’ve been introduced in a DOFP sequel instead. He’s absolutely right.

But here’s what I really think: if any sequels to DOFP just HAD to be made, they shouldn’t have tried to stuff in even more characters. If they HAD to include another old character we’d seen before, it should’ve been Kurt Wagner and Kurt Wagner only. Why? Because he’s Raven & Azazel’s son. And this would only add to the parenthood theme already present through Erik & Peter, and Charles & his students; add a new dimension to Raven as a character as we explore how she feels about being a mother, and what happened that caused her to be separated from her child; and add a new dimension to Hank as we explore how he feels about potentially being a parental figure to Kurt as a result of following his heart toward Raven.

The sequel(s) should’ve focused on developing the relationships that actually had been established/hinted at, and those that would naturally branch as a result:

Erik & Peter as father and son

Raven & Kurt as mother and son

Charles’ parental relationship with his young students

Charles & Erik getting back together

Hank & Raven getting back together

Hank dealing with being Kurt’s possible stepfather

Charles & Raven reconciling as siblings once again

Charles & Peter as stepfather and stepson

Charles & Kurt as uncle and nephew

Alex seeing all of this and being reminded of his bad relationship with his own parents that led him to get locked up before Charles and Erik found him, emphasizing Charles’ place in his life as his true “father,” and foreshadowing Scott by revealing he’s not in touch with his family (meaning he doesn’t know he has a much-younger brother)

Erik bonding with Kurt and making Kurt comfortable through being the only other native German speaker in the group

Erik & Hank dealing with their rocky post-DOFP relationship; Hank giving Erik a proper calling out for sending Charles into such a depression for a decade and for trying to kill Raven

Erik bonding with Charles’ other students and slowly realizing there is a place for him at the school

(Logan may or may not work as a character in such a sequel. But whether he has a big or small role, it must be acknowledged that Raven, not Stryker, saved him from the Potomac at the end of DOFP. So now he is on a different path, and is NOT Weapon X. Either he’s still at the mansion or went his own way with the open possibility of returning; I think the latter makes more sense since he’s such a loner and considering he wouldn’t remember the events of DOFP, he’d be pretty overwhelmed. Plus his explained absence would allow space for the film(s) to focus more on the other characters.)

Regardless, any villain(s) of those hypothetical sequels should’ve been the kind of antagonist(s) whose threat inevitably brought those aforementioned characters together and, in the process, fleshed out those relationships.

Also, no stupid 10-year time jumps between every movie. Keep it to 5-7 years after DOFP, at the most.

Think of the emotional impact that would bring:

Charles & Raven dealing with the fact that she chose not to come to him for help when she became pregnant

Hank & Raven discussing Raven’s history with Azazel and both of them admitting they went to great lengths to try to get over each other but nothing worked

Raven exploring motherhood and her feelings about either having abandoned Kurt as a baby or accidentally losing him, and Hank supporting her in this

Erik exploring his newfound fatherhood, and Charles supporting him in this

Peter’s feelings toward his dad for being absent from his life for so long and also for being a terrorist

Kurt’s feelings toward his mom for being absent for so long, and possibly for intentionally leaving him

Peter & Kurt becoming besties and bonding over being super-fast travelers who have spent too many years not knowing one or both parents

Hank wishing things had been different with Raven and that Kurt could’ve been his son and thinking about stepping into a stepfather role for Kurt

Erik & Peter perhaps getting stranded/separated from the rest of the group and forced to bond while trying to find their way back

Erik saving Peter’s life in battle, cementing their new bond

Hank fully embracing his Beast form (mutant and proud) in battle while protecting Raven and Kurt

Raven, Hank & Kurt as a badass blue family

Erik finally deflecting a bullet successfully to save Charles

Charles & Erik fighting side by side once again and realizing they’re better together than apart

Erik & Hank managing to find some common ground as they both have been unexpectedly thrown into fatherhood (see, no need for female fridging!)

Erik coming up with Quicksilver as Peter’s superhero name, at least getting the chance to name his son in this way

Basically the whole group becoming a big family

Perhaps closing with a flash forward a few years: Erik & Raven are now teachers at the school; young Scott arrives at the school and meets Alex for the first time; Charles & Erik hear about young Jean and head out to meet her; Hank & Raven manage to discover Logan’s location and head out to bring him back to the mansion - tying into the finale of DOFP

Those are just a few things that could’ve, and should’ve, been prioritized in a sequel to DOFP.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

“Asshole.”

“Brat.”

Your honor, I love them.

Water. Cold water.

It rushed into your burning lungs and instead of putting out the fire it made you sputter and gasp. Forcing in more water and out more air. You try to scream and can't. Try to fight your way to the surface and can't.

There's a hand on the back of your neck. Keeping your face pushed down and as you scramble for purchase-

"Fuck," you mutter, ripping your hand off the side of the tub. Forcing yourself back into the present with a groan. Everyfucking time. Every fucking morning. You cough and rub your chest, dragging your knuckles along your sternum hard. Hard enough to leave a red mark.

And not for the first time you wonder if Charles knows how many people have died suspicious deaths in this house. "Fuck old houses. Gonna live in a tiny house- All brand new," you mutter.

But by the time you come down for breakfast, you've touched three backpacks, a missing pair of shoes, and found a notebook of truly cringe poetry... you need a nap. The levels of teenage angst and old drama has you feeling... disoriented. The memories aren't yours, really but now they exist with all your other ghosts. Whether you want them or not.

"Brat," Logan said, setting a paper cup of coffee down in front of you. "You good?"

"Tired," you murmur. Overwhelmed, you add silently.

"You look like hell," he observed. "Still not sleeping?"

"You should see the other people," you mutter, cringing at the memory of the drowning woman. Rubbing your chest reflexively. You see her other places sometimes- dusting the vase on the 4th floor if you touch it. Kissing a man in the boathouse if you put your hand on the glass.

"Hey if you need-"

"I need to get to class," you sigh. "I'm running late. Thanks for the coffee, Logan."

"Sure," he frowned, watching you go and glanced down at the cup you hadn't touched.

"She'll be fine," Ororo said, closing her laptop. "It's just one of those days."

"Those days?"

"Her story to tell," Storm shrugged. "She's always cagey on the details but this is about the time of year things get a little 'tilted' to borrow the way she says it."

"Tilted?" he scoffed.

"Harder to manage," she said smiling a little. "Give her a few weeks. She'll perk back up."

Logan felt his frown deepen, "So in the meantime we just let her walk around like that?"

"If you can snap her out of it," she said, getting to her feet, "then do it. Otherwise, just don't make it worse."

[rebelliousstories]

Seasons Greetings

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1,078

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: Being so far away from home at the holidays, it was not something that most people could do. But leave it to a Cajun in love with another Cajun to bring home to him.

Consider Donating: Here

“Remy, ya ‘round ‘ere somewhere?” Poking her head into another room in the mansion, the woman was on the hunt. Looking around for her lover, she was trying to locate him so that he could come have some dinner.

“Remy, where ya at?” She called again, dipping into a random study. Finally, the familiar head of hair sitting against the windowsill. Sighing in relief, she was not sure whether or not she had gotten his attention, but came over to sit next to him.

Wrapping her arms around Gambit, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Whatcha doin’ up here, mon amour?”

“Just thinkin’, chere. Dats all.” Remy grumbled, keeping his eyes outside on the snowy ground below. He pressed a kiss to her warmed hand in return.

“Gon’ need more den dat, Remy. Ya been upset for da past few days. Tell me what’s wrong,” she tried to prompt him onto speaking more.

“Well, I just… guess da Gambit is feelin’ bit homesick, or- or like, nostalgic tonight ‘s all.” Muttering into the sweater the covered her arms, he tried to almost disappeared into the soft wool.

“Oh, Remy,” she cooed, nuzzling into the side of his head. “Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout dat’s got you feelin’ so down?”

He took a minute to answer, looking very hesitant to say what it was. “‘Member dem bonfires up and da road on Christmas Eve? I miss those da most.”

“Maybe we should show these Yankees what a proper Cajun Christmas looks like, yeah?” She shook the other Cajun slightly, looking deep into his eyes. There was a twinkle there that had not been there before as he got excited at the prospect.

“It’s snowin’, but dat jus’ means dat de ground no set ablaze.” Her smiled widened as Remy was getting into the spirit again.

Rushing to throw on the proper outside attire, she barely managed to get her coat on when she was being pulled out the door by her boyfriend. Giggling, they set out together to gather enough dry wood and sticks to build their little fires. It was a little difficult with the snow, but they made it work.

Once they gathered enough to make one, now the real fun began. The more wood they gathered became different shapes and creations. Remy managed to find just enough to turn into a log cabin looking thing, while she attempted to make one that looked like an alligator. All the while, they kept laughing, and smiling. Reminiscing about their childhood Christmas’s.

“What are you two doing?” A sudden voice came through as they were building a fleur-de-lis. Ororo stood there, white hair nearly blending in with the snowy background.

“Cajun Christmas, Storm.” The woman beamed, adding small twigs where she could.

“And what do you do with these wooden structures?” Noticing just how many there were around the front yard of the school, Storm was utterly confused as to what these two crazy Cajuns were going to do.

“We light ‘em up.” Remy stated.

“That checks.” Storm shrugged. “Want an extra hand?”

And just like that, now three people were working on building. Ororo was intrigued as the two southerners explained to her why they did what they did. “In Cajun country, these bonfires light the way for Christmas mass. Dey serve gumbo, and make sure people reach church before Pére Nöel reaches der houses. We must put up a hundred o’ these before Christmas Eve.”

“Yeah. And Pére Nöel to us Cajuns don’t come in a sled wit’ da reindeer. He come wit’ a pirouge pulled by gators. Dis why Cajuns da best.” She added to her boyfriend’s explanation.

The stories from their childhood around these bonfires demonstrated clearly just how much this tradition meant to them. She also noticed that Gambit was in a much better mood than he had been recently. Perhaps this is what he needed; a little taste of home.

What the three did not know was that they were slowly accumulating an audience. Students watched from the windows, or they made their way to sit on the front porch of the school. The other adults were also finding ways to watch what the three were doing. Only when they began lighting them up, did they realize what had happened. Oohs and aahs sounded off, making them look over to the front of the school.

However, one person that did not understand what was going on was Charles. As he rode through the school, he became more and more confused as he could not find a single student nor teacher. That is, until he felt the culmination of all of their thoughts out front. Wheeling closer, he panicked a bit as he saw the flames but calmed down when he actually made it outside. With a smile, the professor found a spot to sit and watch the display of beautiful flames, and enjoy the warmth they provided.

Lighting the last structure, Remy grabbed his girlfriend’s hand and pulled her up to where the students and teachers sat. He sent a smile to Xavier, who winked a him in return. Storm went over to stand with Rogue and Wolverine who watched with rapt attention.

“This makin’ ya feel bettah, Remy?” She asked, leaning her head back onto his chest while she sat in front.

“Yes, it is, chere. Merci beaucoup.” Gambit pressed a kiss to her neck, and watched as the flames danced higher and higher. The chill of Christmas was gone, and he knew it was not about the temperature outside.

The fires went out a few hours later, but they continued watching until the wooden structures had been reduced to cinders. Only then, did everyone begin making their way in.

“Gambit,” Storm called, “thank you for letting me help you both. That was a lot of fun. Perhaps we can do it tomorrow for actual Christmas and you two can make some gumbo?” She left to go back into the warmth of the school before her after that.

However, the couple was stopped by Charles before they made their way in. “That was wonderful, you two. Next time, let me know first. I almost panicked when I saw the smoke rising.”

The couple looked at each other with matching smirks. Stepping forward, she rested her hand on the professor’s chair to lead them all inside. “Tell me, Charles. You ever had proper gumbo?”

Oh yeah. Remy was definitely in love with this woman.

[altoace]

I love X-Men Evo, and I have hundreds of incorrect quotes saved. I love all of these dumb teens (as well as Logan and Ororo) very much.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Scott: No, I’ll tell you what the problem is! The problem is—

Lance: {holds his breath and covers his ears}

Scott: Great, that’s just what your brain needs. Less oxygen.

— — — — —

Pietro: Isn’t it weird that people kill mosquitoes just because they’re annoying?

Pietro: Imagine if people did that to other people? I would’ve been dead years ago!

— — — — —

Rogue: Behold, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

— — — — —

Kurt, during training: Hey, who wants to see an impression of my mother?

Scott: Kurt, no.

*Kurt teleports out of the room*

Scott: KURT, NO!

— — — — —

Scott: Isn’t it weird that we pay money to see other people?

Kurt: Plane tickets?

Evan: Concert tickets?

Kitty: Prostitution?

Scott, eyes closed, holding his shades: Glasses.

— — — — —

Lance: {walks in}

Todd and Fred: {making horse noises at each other}

Lance: {walks out}

— — — — —

Tabitha: Every now and then, I like to do as I’m told just to confuse people.

— — — — —

Kitty: {running away from mutants working for Magneto while on the phone}

Scott: Where are you?!

Kitty: I don’t know! You tell me!

Scott: Any sort of notable sign or something?!

Kitty: Umm…staircase!

Scott:

Scott: Anything else? Like a room name?! Any item that’s unique?!

Kitty: Fire extinguisher!

Rogue, muttering under her breath: She’s gonna die…

— — — — —

Kurt: When life gives you lemons—

Rogue: Squeeze them in people’s eyes.

— — — — —

Evan: Someday, in the distant future, people will once again be capable of hearing the phrase “what is love” without also feeling the primal urge to respond with “baby don’t hurt me”.

Kitty: So at that point, people will say “baby don’t hurt me”…no more?

— — — — —

Wanda: Can you pass the pepper?

Todd: What’s the ~magic word~?

*Wanda begins chanting*

Pietro, panicking: JUST TAKE IT OH MY GOD

— — — — —

Xavier: I admit, I was wrong to give up on you all so quickly.

The Brotherhood: Good.

Xavier: However—

The Brotherhood: No, no however. Just be wrong. Just live in your wrongness and be wrong and get used to it.

— — — — —

Lance: Where’s the yogurt? I thought you went to the store?

Pietro: {incoherent mumbling}

Lance: Huh?

Pietro: IT WAS ON THE TOP SHELF

Lance:

Pietro: I COULDN’T REACH IT

— — — — —

*at the zoo*

Lance: So, what are they in for?

Kitty: This isn’t prison.

Lance: So they can leave?

Kitty: Well, no but—

Lance, pointing at a penguin: I bet that one killed somebody.

— — — — —

Xavier: Do you know why I chose you as my first student?

Scott: I assumed you lost a bet.

— — — — —

Scott: What did you guys get in your yearbook?

Evan: “Best smile”.

Kurt: “Nicest personality”.

Kitty: “Most likely to start a bar fight”.

Rogue: “Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one”.

— — — — —

Jean: Evan, if we get out of this alive, I will kill you.

Evan: So what’s my incentive to live?

— — — — —

Kurt: Are you a morning person or an evening person?

Scott: If I’m lucky, I get a good few minutes in during the middle of the day.

— — — — —

Scott: Sorry I’m late. I broke down on my way here.

Rogue: Is your car okay?

Scott: Car?

Rogue:

The X-Men:

— — — — —

Lance: Mystique is gonna try and have you killed.

Scott: I can’t say that surprises me.

— — — — —

Kurt, about Tabitha: I don’t know what she’s planning, but I can tell you two things. We won’t like it, and it won’t be legal.

— — — — —

Pietro: Of all the things I am low enough to do, how could you even doubt if that was one of them?

— — — — —

Todd: Why are only roosters allowed to start the day screaming?

Lance: Because we live in the same house and I will murder you.

— — — — —

Scott: We can’t tell you because you’re not a member of the club.

Wanda: What club?

Rogue: The hating Magneto club.

Wanda:

Wanda: The fuck? I should be the leader of that club.

— — — — —

Kitty: Guys! Logan just fell down the stairs!

Ororo: And what did he say?

Kitty: Should I skip the swearing?

Ororo: Yes.

Kitty: Then he fell in silence.

[thattripleabattery]

Bro, do u have any hc about (xmen evo) logan???

I have one and its basically:

In the weapon x time, they tried to make an emergency system (a silly machine near logan's tank) to prevent logan of whooping everyone ass, basically, a "switch" turn on/off using his nervous system

Anyways, for some reason the system got down for some minutes causing logan's escape, HE OBLITERATED the machine so the weapon x peps couldn't turn him off

Tho if they tried to remove the spinal thingy it could damage logan's healing factor (i saw somewhere his healing factor is connected with his brain ) so they let it there

In other words: PEEPAW LOGAN HAVE COOL SPINE MECHA THINGY AND ALSO BACK PAIN 24/7 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Oooh yes I will! I definitely agree with that hc. I love your fanart btw! All these headcanons will be related to evolutions

- Logan believed for a long time he was nothing but a weapon and was scared at first to be at Xavier’s

- I believe in✨dad bod Logan✨supremacy

- He still treats rogue, Kurt, Scott, kitty, and Jean like kids when they’re adults and still calls them by his nicknames for them

- He’s aroace spec

- He has a crush on ororo

- He has really sensitive hearing (and nose) which leads him irritable in the house

- His eyes do the thing when a light shines on them like animal eyes do

- Used to be insecure about his fangs that he would mumble so no one would see them, he doesn’t care now

- He has let kitty paint his nails one time

- Since we get little backstory on this version of Logan, so I headcanon evo Logan as half Japanese, half white since his last name is never said in the show (I’m pretty sure) and it’s just a headcanon for evo

- Along with that, he doesn’t remember since he can’t remember a lot of things before weapon x

- Each of the kids has accidentally called him dad at least once (Scott has done it multiple times) and he feels like crying every time they do

- He’s afraid he’ll become like sabertooth

- Has “berserker rage”episodes but has never hurtany of the kids during an episode

[theelectronicstranger]

Ultimate X-Men #3 Discussion

          If you have not read this issue, then please look away now! I’ve been really loving this title so far. I think this issue is worth your time and money, so don’t spoil yourself and maybe come back to this when you’ve read this issue.

          I really enjoyed learning more about Mei Igarashi/MayStorm this issue and seeing how her powers manifested. We saw a bit of her connection to Storm/Ororo; in the issue, we saw a glimpse of her looking up “Storm” on social media and reading all about her escapades as a freedom fighter in West Africa:

I already talked about this in my Ultimate Black Panther #1-3 Discussion, but I really appreciated that we get some confirmation on who Storm is and how she is related to Mei in this universe. I also like how this is kind of the first time these books have connected with one another. Unless you count the Tony Stark appearance in Ultimate Spider-Man #1, there hasn’t really been that much crossover in the first 3 Ultimate Universe titles. My only problem with them showing Mei and Storm’s connection is that I wish it was longer. I would love to know more about the extent of Mei’s interest in Storm. I’m hoping we see more of her connection with Storm and maybe see her work with Storm in the future as the stories of this universe progress. Although this little panel suffices, I just wish there was more.

          We also get to see Mei’s family life in this issue, and it is not good. Her parents seem to be fighting all the time because her father seems to be cheating on her mother with another woman. Also, her dad seems pretty checked out with the whole relationship and his family in general because anytime we see him, his expression doesn’t really change. He’s just looking at his paper or looking somewhere else. It feels like he has straight up disdain for the family he has, and Mei has learned to dislike her father because of his actions and inaction within their family. He is also pretty abusive in this issue. When Mei talks back to her in this issue, Mei’s father hits her without any remorse:

What really gets to me about these pages is the fact that he just did it so nonchalantly. Like he knew this was just something Mei deserved or something he needed to do to punish her daughter. He did it so matter-of-factly that it was really scary and effective in making me hate this guy, which makes what happens next so satisfying:

This is my favorite panel of the issue. Mei, after being struck by her father, unleashes and awakens her mutant powers. It’s like all this pent-up anger and repressed emotions she feels inside just explodes and makes themselves feel known. I absolutely love Peach Momoko’s art here. I think she drew Mei’s awakening so well, which makes what follows after so heartbreaking:

Her father doesn’t even flinch, and he doesn’t change his demeanor. He just wants her out of his house. When I first read this, I was speechless because her father was just so cruel. He didn’t even try to understand what happened or understand his daughter at all. All he knew was that her daughter was now a liability and someone he couldn’t control anymore, so he told her to go. This scene just completely deflates that big burst of energy from when Mei awakens her power. It’s as if there’s nothing that she could do to change how her father feels and acts about her. Even her powers manifesting wasn’t enough to get a better reaction from him.

          I’m going to talk a little bit about the Shadow King (This is still not confirmed by the way, but we still don’t have a name for him so I’m just sticking with “the Shadow King” for now). We saw a bit of him this issue. I still maintain my belief that it was too early to reveal that the Shadow King’s identity was an actual physical person and not some spirit or entity because I felt like all of the mystique surrounding his identity and what he is went away when we found out what he looked like. I really would have preferred it more if his identity was kept a secret for at least a year. Yes, there’s still some questions regarding his identity and his motivations that are left to be answered. However, I felt like we could have kept more of the horror aspect of the book if his identity was kept a secret for a little longer. I’m not saying that it’s not there still, but with this issue specifically, it felt like that aspect has been diminished. I understand that Momoko probably wanted to temper people’s expectations of who this person is, so I’m trusting that she knows what she’s doing and I’m just going to enjoy what she has in store for us in the future. I am a little excited to find out more about who this person actually is and what his motivations are, so I hope we get those answers soon.

          This issue also introduces us a bit to Nico Minoru, which was a nice surprise. As far as I know, Nico Minoru was never a mutant unless I’m missing something. If I am, then please let me know. I’m pretty sure she’s a sorceress/witch in the main 616 universe and was never a mutant. I wonder how this version of Nico Minoru’s powers work because is seems to hint that she’s a psychic in this issue; but also, at the end of the issue we see her holding a magnifying glass that oddly looks like the Staff of One:

I like her design in this issue and I’m wondering if the magnifying glass helps her use her powers at all. Maybe that’s how she knows that Mei and Hisako are mutants. Sidenote: This is the first time in this series that anybody has mentioned the word ‘Mutant”. If that magnifying glass is the Staff of One, then that makes me wonder if certain mutants in this universe need “trinkets” to activate their powers because Hisako in this issue talks about how her Omamori is always with her even when she forgets it:

When Hisako activated her armor power back in Issue 1, we see her holding her Omamori in her hand:

The Omamori looks exactly like her armor too. My theory is that maybe certain mutants in this universe are connected to certain items that helps them manifest their powers? We know that this universe has a very interesting history with artifacts and stolen destinies/powers. The Maker took certain items/artifacts that would have turned certain people into superheroes. What if this universe holds value to those artifacts/objects and that is how some mutants use their power in this universe? What do you guys think?

Anyways, I want to go back to the picture of Nico Minoru’s introduction and focus on the little girl on Nico’s right:

The little girl is wearing bunny ears, and my immediate thought is that it was Molly Hayes of the Runaways. Maybe even the girl with the eyepatch is Gert Yorkes? I don’t really know if that’s Molly or if that’s Gert but I’m excited to find out. Also, I want to point out that Mei Igarashi is technically a runaway right now. She’s not with her parents anymore. It seems that she’s alone right now, so maybe we will see a version of the Runaways in this series? What do you guys think? I personally really like the Runaways team, so seeing them in this book in some form or another will be nice.

          That’s all I have for this issue of Ultimate X-Men. Thank you for reading this! I’d love to know what you guys think of the issue. I didn’t talk much about Hisako this issue because this issue was more about Mei, but there were some panel in the beginning of this book that I want to see where it goes for a bit before I talk about it. Thank you for reading and have a great day.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Humans And Mutants - Chapter 12 - Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Title: Hello, Mr. President

Previous Chapter | Current Chapter | Next Chapter

Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Bobby (Mentioned), Jones (Mentioned), Kurt (Nightcrawler) (Mentioned), Scott (Mentioned), Jean (Mentioned), Ororo (Mentioned), Charles, Rogue (Mentioned), other kids (Mentioned), President McKenna, Abrams (Mentioned), Stryker (Mentioned), and The Vice President (Mentioned)

WC: 992

Warnings: X-Men canon violence mentioned, X-Men canon storyline, brief mention of death/killing, italics, Jean doesn't die (I couldn't find another gif), slow burn, slight angst, and fluff

It was quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the constant hum of the jet. The kids sat in the rear, leaning against each other for warmth and comfort. Bobby and a few others were asleep, while little Jones was fidgeting with Kurt’s tail. 

Logan watched Scott wrap the bandage around Jean’s eyes. You helped Scott with the bandages, rolling them out for him, handing him the scissors, and helping him with whatever he needed help with. He would’ve looked at Jean, but the entire time he was watching you. 

Logan's heart raced whenever you were near, a feeling so unfamiliar yet intoxicating that it left him breathless. The way his stomach fluttered at the mere sight of you was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He realized then, that what he once felt for Jean paled in comparison, fading like a distant memory. What he felt for you was something deeper, something he couldn’t ignore. As he watched you, captivated by your every movement, your smile illuminated the room, and in that moment, he knew - with absolute certainty - that he was falling for you, and he had left his love for Jean behind.

And, besides, Jean was dating Scott, nothing would’ve come from it. He didn’t know why, but he felt sort of happy, excited even? This weird weight was lifted off his shoulders.

Charles glanced at Logan, gaining his attention, and nodded. Logan broke his gaze away from you and got up, heading to the cockpit; Ororo and Rogue were at the controls. Ororo looked back, at the kids, and at the X-Men as the X-Jet flew away into the clouds.

~~~

Moments later, in the House of Representatives, President McKenna was in the middle of presenting to the State of The Union Address. Abrams, a Senator in the front row, was pouring a glass of water from a pitcher.

“In this time of adversity we are being offered a unique opportunity, a moment to recognize a growing threat within our own population, and take a unique role in the shape of human events.” President McKenna spoke. “I have in my possession… Evidence… Of a threat being born in our own schools.” He continued, but paused, looking at the Vice President, who sat, strangely dazed. “A threat we must learn to recognize… In order to combat it.” He finished. He paused again and looked around. All of the people around him were sitting perfectly still… Completely motionless. 

Every single person in the room was frozen in place. Senators, aides, secret services, and other government workers. Senator Abrams was still pouring water, which overfilled his cup and ran down the table. A dozen tech guys were perfectly still, and monitors switched to static. The President saw that his teleprompter had gone static too. Suddenly, the doors swung open, revealing you, Charles, Logan, and a few of the other X-Men. You all headed down the aisle towards the President; Logan held a file folder in his hand. The President stared, surprised, as you neared, “Who are you people?” The President asked.

“My name is Charles Xavier. Please sit down, Mr. President.” Charles said, gesturing to the chair.

“I’d rather stand.” The spooked President spoke.

Charles nodded as Logan glared at the President, who was looking around, restlessly. “We are mutants, but we are not here to harm you. Just to talk.” Logan handed the file to the President, as Charles continued. “These are files from the private offices of William Stryker.”

McKenna hesitantly reached out and took the envelope of files, and thumbed through them. “How did you get these?”

“Let’s just say I know a little girl who can walk through walls.” Charles said with a smile.

“I’ve never seen these before.” McKenna spoke, narrowing his eyes, confused.

Charles nodded, “We know.”

McKenna raised an eyebrow, “Then you also know I don’t respond well to threats.”

“This isn’t a threat Mr. President, this is an offer,” Charles explained, still smiling politely, remaining calm. While McKenna proceeded to look over the files, Charles approached the podium. “I realize you may have information about me. About my school. About our people. I’m willing to trust you, Mr. President, if you will return the favor.”

“What are you proposing?” The President asked, suspicious.

“There are forces in this world, mutant and human alike, who believe that a war is coming. You’ll see from those files that some have already tried to start one.” Charles explained as you and Logan watched as the pitcher of water that Abrams was pouring came to a trickle. You shook a hand in front of the Senator’s face, amused as Charles continued. “If we expect to preserve peace, we have to work together.” McKenna looked around, at the frozen congress. “Do you understand?” Charles asked the man.

McKenna stared at Charles for a long time, and for that long time, he didn’t speak, but when he did, he said, “I think I do.”

“I’m glad.” Charles’ smile widened, “We are here to stay, Mr. President. The next move is yours.”

You and everyone else headed back up the aisle and disappeared behind closed doors. The President looked around, startled as the monitors snapped out of static and displayed live video of the President, who was not speaking. No one in the room had any idea of what just happened. Abrams had poured water all over his pants, realizing what he had done, he found himself flustered. President McKenna looked at the Vice President, who glanced back at him. He then looked at all the teleprompter, and to the public, who were waiting and waiting…

McKenna breathed in deeply and looked at the files on his podium. He looked at the old files, the ones he was about to consult… And carefully placed Charles's files on top of them. Everyone headed down the long hallway, past guards and workers who walked by, unaware that anything had happened at all.

~~~

@ashdoctor @powergirlsupremacy @weallhaveadestiny @amandarobertboyce @casey162 @ayamenimthiriel

~~~

Main Masterlist | X-Men Masterlist

[nathanbellamy]

House of Dadneto Checkpoint 2 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

@house-of-dadneto | my ao3

Since I already previewed my 5+1 Things fic here, I figured I'd use this checkpoint as a chance to reveal some excerpts from my other (as of now untitled) fic for the “Outsider POV” prompt.

[For context: Erik stumbles upon Peter and Kurt kissing, and promptly arrives at the conclusion that the secret Peter has been keeping from him is that Peter's gay. And, like, Peter is gay, but Erik couldn't be more wrong.]

Passages under the cut:

...

Erik knew that Peter was getting close enough that he’d soon be in earshot, so he completely disregarded Raven’s words, staring at her with laser focus. “All love is love,” Erik said abruptly, forcing himself not to cast a glance towards Peter.

“What?” Raven spluttered, but her confusion was unimportant.

“All love is valid,” Erik continued loudly, and in his periphery, he could see that Peter was staring at him as the young man walked by. “We are all a family. I fully support the love you just mentioned, Mystique, because loving anyone is okay.”

...

“Is that seriously a rainbow pin on his flannel?” Jean said in a low voice, exchanging a shocked glance with Scott. “And a rainbow scarf?”

“He is expressing himself,” Ororo said with a shrug, taking a bite of her toast. “I see nothing wrong with that.”

“We’ve seen him in a full cape, chestplate, helmet, and boots,” Peter began, watching Erik as the man took a seat at the table. He turned back to his friends, shaking his head. “But somehow this is the most deranged fashion statement I’ve seen from him yet.”

...

(Needless to say, I've been really enjoying writing this one.)

[x-manson-annotated]

X-Manson Annotated Chapter Three - Part 7 -  THE RAID

So, Ariel's arrival, Betsy's kidnapping, and The Raid all happened very close together.

Did Gabrielle mean to say the "Korean conflict" here? It's not listed among his accomplishments earlier in the story. But his resolution to the Vietnam War is mentioned.

*God Loves, Man Kills Reference. There's something real ironic about cult leader Charles fighting with a fundie with murderous intent.

**I'm not sure what Warren's thing in L.A is.

God Loves, Man Kills was released in 1982. So, we may be two years into the future, or here the events are still happening in 1980. I like to imagine most of God Loves, Man Kills still happens but nobody learns anything from it.

Vance needs to just shut the fuck up about The Avengers.

*another instance where the interviewer thinks Emma manipulated the students.

**Pricey trip in a cab, Doug.

Tarot is still a mutant in this AU. But there's no mention of her power. Does this mean that maybe instead of bringing to life figures from Tarot cards, she's a mild precog?

*What was left of the helicopter? Did someone destroy the helicopter?

**The Rolls pulls up with Xavier, Logan, Summers, and Grey

Everyone left at the house:

Piotr and Sean.

I have no doubt that either one could take out a helicopter on their own. But there is one factor that nobody has considered. Another person who could down a helicopter that isn't potentially being mind-controlled is Ororo. And nobody knew she was there.

*see there's a lingering after-effects of a storm blowing around, maybe Ororo's powers are less precise than in the comics.

*The armory is real and Xavier does have a room full of guns in the comics. My man's unhinged.

**The way that he's talking here with the door that opens onto a balcony reminds me of The Runaways where the group watches their parents in The Pride doing the human sacrifice. This predates that by several years, so they're probably both drawing on something from somewhere else.

I think this is the first mention of Cable.

Now our Nathan count stands at a possible 2.

This feels very comedic, definitely an "Oh Shit" moment.

Tear gas grenades. People crawling out of windows everywhere makes it feel like there are more people not identified by Doug or the documentary crew.

Marie-Ange Interruption Count: 1.

It's possible he was also forced to remember The Holocaust by either Xavier or Cable. Just like in the popular meme.

[stormandforge]

Raw reactions to X-Force #6

This issue is a feast for Forge and Sage fans. I am both. I am eating well.

Spoilers below.

Note: I took down the initial version of this post because I wasn’t happy with it. Apologies for any confusion - the old brain is restless this week.

*points to blog name* I will deal with this aspect of things in a separate post, because I have too much to say. Happy things.

What comes to mind when you think of Forge? I’ll bet it’s his power, Storm, the power neutraliser gun, his status as a war vet, his magic, and if you’ve been paying closer attention, his super cool house, his simulations and Mystique. True believer, all of these things feature in this issue in some way or other. (With the exception of the magic, but that’s because Marvel won’t let Geoff Thorne write about it.) It’s a Forge fest. And what’s even better, all of these characteristics and connections are shown to be evolving. For example: Forge's guilt is no longer about Storm; it's about Surge. All writers have given him for the last 40 years is guilt and shame over the power neutraliser gun, but Thorne has given him something new to atone for. Character development. For Forge. Never thought I’d see the day.

The warrior speech is perfection. A respectful cultural reference acting as metaphor for Forge’s evolution as a character. I don't know if a Native reader would find it overdone, but to me it felt like an impactful nod to his heritage that wasn't cartoonish, for once.

I hope the mention of him abandoning his family and tribe means we’re going to get more backstory. I so want that for him.

So, Forge’s simulations. I don’t like them. They’re too easily misconstrued, and they make my boy look like a bit of a pervert. So I was a bit apprehensive going into this issue – especially since it was meant to feature both Storm and Mystique. In the end, does Forge emerge looking like a creep? No. Does he emerge looking like he needs to have his head examined? Definitely. Which is completely fair.

I've seen people complain that the characterisation of Storm and Mystique was simplistic. Guys, that’s not Storm and Mystique. That’s Storm and Mystique as seen by Forge. Big difference. Can you imagine Ororo lovingly stroking his hair after finding out he sacrificed Nori? LOL. Me neither.

The Aerie lives! But it looks like…a corner loft in Brooklyn? I have to take back some of what I said about the art in my previous post on this issue: I did cringe in places. But I also know very little about art, so it’s down to personal preference.

What kind of Benjamin Percy nonsense is that in Forge's fridge? Can we please let his protein shake/gym bunny phase die with Krakoa? It didn’t make sense then and it still doesn’t now. This is the man who got Ororo in bed through the power of his cooking, why would he survive on supplements?

We have a villain, people! Her name is La Diabla, and she is a mood all to herself. She gives off classic villain vibes, she cackles like a witch, she eats pop-corn while you're getting zapped by your ex, she singsongs the word "punishment" and she wears an all-purple outfit. Also: her name is Corazón Estrada. CORAZÓN ESTRADA. That's the most over-the-top Spanish name I've heard after the names of my own ancestors. (Or maybe Spanish names just sound dramatic. Either way, I love it.)

More things to like about La Diabla. 1/ The alchemy thing. It's magic, but reimagined, since it dabbles in science. It feels new to me in the context of Marvel, so I'm curious. Tailor-made for Forge, too. 2/ By being the official villain, she exonerates Forge. By comparison, anyway. There’s no way this man is completely clean.

You know who else is a fucking legend? You guessed it, it’s Sage. Look at her, just look at her please, crashing Forge's little holo-show with a Matrix-style entrance, reading him for filth and solving the ongoing mystery in under 4 pages. Oh, and she destroys the very concept of Mystique while she’s at it. THE FIRE. THE SLAY.

“faux-roro”, “let’s not play dueling mutations”, “placebo-Surge”, “lazy mercenary tier” – the zingers in this issue! I love it when you can tell a writer is having fun with a character.

Ok, I’m going to say it. As soon as I realised, quite early on, that Forge would be hanging out with holograms of his exes in this issue, my shippy heart started praying: let Sage shut that shit down. And that’s exactly what she did. Could be, you know, symbolic - her being the one who helps him snap out of it. Just saying.

Yes, I’m still shipping my two nerds. Their dynamic has me entranced. I love how they play off each other – intellectually at odds but riding the same brainwave when it matters. I love the open way they always talk to each other. I even love their conflict, it’s what makes things interesting.

Sage isn’t narrating in this issue, but her line "I'm thinking. Of course I am, I'm always thinking" still makes an appearance in dialogue– and it’s Forge who says it. Is he quoting her? How can he know this line? It’s also possible that it’s Sage who’s been quoting Forge all along, since we don’t know how far in the future Sage’s narrative voice is. Or it’s simply a gimmick. In any case, it’s cute.

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2024 No. 16 - Wound cleaning

07/01/2018

After Scott had grilled Hank with his inquiring gaze for the better part of the last four hours, all without the need for the use of his powers, it was, ironically, Artie  instead who gave him the badly needed update on his wife's condition, silently as ever.

Scott hadn’t really expected anything different, still, it was another stab of disappointment and gloom when the X-Men's former pupil got up abruptly, after hardly having moved ever since entering this sick bay room, basically the second Noemi slumped in her chair too, her heavy panting finally evening out, her hand slipping from where she'd kept it firmly on Katja's forehead and temple for so long. Artie didn’t even bother checking if the power of his mind monitor showing everything so burdening, so sickening that had gone down in this deep mental connection, was needed any longer before heading for the door, just dropping some small package on the nightstand that Scott couldn’t immediately make out from his chair on the other side of the room before he made a run for it. At least the boy stopped for a brief moment when Scott quietly called his name, too overwhelmed for a proper address at the first moment by this still so very hostile, so very disinterested reaction. And just when Scott had hoped no less that there would be at least a way back to friendship with this young man after Artie had reluctantly agreed to help his old caretaker's mind be freed from Emma's hostile takeover. No such luck. The unambiguous image of New York, surrounded by the Field's protective glow showed up on Artie's monitor, and then the one of an abstract handshake, followed by a bold, glowing question mark, Artie's huge white pupils narrowing when he looked back over his scrawny shoulder.

"We'll do our best; I already promised you that." Scott wished he could have told the boy who'd already gone through so much in his life, who'd already lost so many homes and loved ones, that there would be a peaceful solution to Mystique's takeover of a beloved US metropolis. But they'd already decided when Ororo and Scott had called Artie for their desperate request in the morning that bullshitting each other wouldn’t help anyone at this point. "None of us wants this conflict to turn into a massacre of both mutants and normal people. No one hopes more than me that when the day comes when we all have to decide how to solve this crisis, we'll do it in your office with pen and paper, not with swords in our hands. Or I would already have called to arms."

Artie nodded slowly, visibly not entirely happy with the answer but also at least not as aggressive as at the beginning of that com conversation earlier. He shortly raised his hand for a polite greeting and then hurried to get out the door before he'd possibly risk his patient waking up and actually do something as perverted as trying to talk to him after all these years of enmity. He'd not come here to make amends in that regard. For that, it was probably just simply too early after all.

Scott didn’t get a chance to mourn these deep abysses that New York had opened not only between this house and some of its once most loyal followers for long because a stir small from the so very pale figure on the bed next to him had him startle. The last of nauseous tightness in his throat finally dissolved when his eyes found Noemi's dark ones on the other side of the bed and she nodded at him shakily, visibly still processing all she'd had had to see in this mental cleansing.

It still bothered Scott a lot that this still far too young girl had had to endure that shit at all but for the moment, she seemed sufficiently composed, even had a small smile for him to spare when he took her hand across their patient's shape for a long, firm moment. For now, just like said patient, Noemi needed rest more than anything. Talk about those gruesome images of a long gone past in Katja's head that she'd had to witness, they would when the girl would feel ready for it.

With that silent promise and assurance on his mind, Scott managed to turn off his bad conscience somehow and finally turn his attention to where it was needed most right now, gently resting his palm on Katja's frighteningly hollow cheek. "Welcome back, babe."

"Tell me I did not sleep through the Dancing with the stars finale." Katja finding back to her peculiar humor before she'd even really opened her eyes was the last proof Scott had anxiously been waiting for that she was indeed back to her true self, just like that brilliant smile on her lips when their eyes finally met, that he'd been so terrified to never be allowed to see again.

"Don't worry, no spoilers until we catch up." Half chuckling, half with a sound that sounded suspiciously close to something else entirely, Scott carefully wrapped his arms around his wife's body, hiding that hint of too-deep, too-vulnerable emotion against her neck until it passed, just relishing for long seconds of gratefulness in the quickly strengthening, tender touch of a beloved hand on his neck in the warmth of that soft skin against his cheek, ignoring the slightly sour fragrance on it from long hours of cold sweat and a terror that after today, at least might finally be processed just a tiny bit more. It had been difficult for all of them but they'd pulled through, nothing else counted for the moment.

Hank's nagging rumble in his back reminded him that they weren’t alone in the room and that he'd only feel completely at ease if he could bring himself to entangle from his wife long enough for their team doctor to check on her, so he somehow got himself together and pulled away, no matter how much he hated to right now.

Accordingly irritated he felt when Hank didn’t sit down on the chair next to him to aim his sensors on Katja at all but reached for Scott's arm instead, starting to remove the bandage from it without even asking. Of course, it hadn’t escaped the sharp feral senses of his old friend that Scott had been going easy on his left arm ever since yesterday.

"Uh …"

"Not a word, my young Captain. Vital sign readings say, your wife is just fine, and this thing needs changing since like yesterday. You know how much I hate sloppy treatments." Hank drew his upper lip back between his fangs in disapproval when the admittedly slightly unsightly ruin of blisters, swellings, and reddened spots on Scott's wrist was revealed where his com watch had gone down in sparks yesterday. Thinking about it, he should probably have taken a minute at least after that battle to get that checked out in spite of his limitless worry for his wife.

Hank was nice enough to not give him shit for his occasionally questionable health management this time, just reached for disinfectant, clothes and healing salve with an exasperated sigh. "Remind me not to let Logan do first aid on anyone anymore."

"Hey, at least he didn’t just empty a bottle of whiskey over it this time," Scott gave back with half a grin, breathing with gritted teeth through the disgusting ripping sensation when the last bandage layer came off and Hank carefully started to go over those slightly infected spots with a small dab. "They call that progress or something."

He only realized that for once, his wife wasn’t feeling like joining in some morbid joking when he heard Katja gasp sharply, saw her round eyes go large when she saw the nature of his injury and something promptly came back to her that Scott had half and half hoped would be buried forever in that delusional nothingness that the foreign mental takeover had caused in her yesterday.

"Voltage burn? That … Fuck, Scott, was that me?"

He shrugged with his good shoulder, letting her know with a sincere smile he couldn’t be further from being pissed about something like that. When you grew up in a house with several people with mental powers, anger over something that a victim of such gifts simply wasn’t responsible for, was an entirely alien notion to you. Sometimes he just wished, such easy acceptances came to his wife too, without him having to lecture her into new self-confidence every damn time. "We've done kinkier things than a little electro play."

Noemi promptly looked as if she'd tasted an especially sour apple. At least she started to have some color in those round cheeks back now, her thoughts hopefully stopping to linger with far less harmless pictures in her head than Scott had just accidentally put there. "Ew. Really, Uncle?"

Scott ducked his head apologetically, never let go of Katja's hand with his uninjured one though. "Apologies, but I rather prefer to have you suffer for five seconds than me for the next five years because I married a woman who just loves to take the blame for everything, no matter how absurd."

"How about going to Emma without telling anyone?" Katja asked quietly, her depressed gaze still on the traces the powers of said psychotic bitch had left through her from afar on his skin.

Scott instinctively set his jaw for a moment, and this time not because Hank went over an especially deep blister with his cloth. That too had to be part of this conversation, much as he hated to criticize his partner right after waking up from this nightmare. But if he wanted to help her with that guilt complex of hers, part of that was also not sugarcoating it when she did fuck up every now and then. "That, you'll get a good spanking for as soon as Hank lets you out of here."

"Okay, I'm out." Noemi got up on still slightly wobbly knees and headed for the door similarly quickly as Artie earlier, hopefully right on the way to some badly needed hug from a family member herself. For the moment, they could all use some privacy, admittedly, and all that Scott wanted to tell this so unbelievably courageous, empathic girl still could wait until neither of them would feel so physically and mentally beat anymore.

Katja however, still had something crucial on her mind, and it was another lift weighted from Scott's heart that she was already feeling well enough for that again to sit up and raise her voice slightly. "Kid? I owe you."

Noemi snorted and rolled her eyes in such a perfect imitation of her father's gruff manner that Scott couldn’t help but grin in spite of a response not exactly kindly towards a certain person who would never get a chance again to defend herself against such digs. Some things, no mental gift on this planet could heal. "After helping raise me for 17 years instead of the woman whose job that would have been? I don't think so."

"I'll think of something anyway," Katja promised her with a mischievous little smile, reaching for her phone on the nightstand as soon as the door had slid shut behind Noemi, probably to already look up online for said gift, whatever it was that she had in mind ... Her hand froze mid-movement when she spotted a certain souvenir waiting on the small metal container there instead, shaking heavily when she reached for it, apparently only now understanding that it hadn’t been only Noemi's powerful gift that had shown her a way out of her mental captivity. There might be a very real frustrating chance that her other savior, she would never get to thank, for more than one reason. Maybe for now, it would have to do that Artie at least wasn’t that angry with Katja anymore, as Scott only understood when he saw that the boy had left a pack of Spider-Man-themed bandaids for his former caretaker.

Hank finished redressing his wounds just in time for Scott to get down on that bed finally and firmly pull his partner close again when the tears started to fall.

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

[popculturebuffet]

House of Claremont: Warhunt! (UXM #94-96)

Hello all you happy mutants and after far too long, welcome back to the House of Claremont, my long look at the Chris Claremont era of x-men! We're finally back peforming to you after the senses shattering debut and just in time too. This year marks the 60TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE UNCANNY X-MEN and i've been chomping at the bit to get back to the strangest heroes of all. And while I have something bigger planned for their anniversary in july, for now you'll be hopefully getting a monthly does of mutant mayhem from here.

So when we last left off, despite the title of this feature, Len Wein kicked us off with Giant Sized X-Men #1 as a new generation of x-men was brought in to save the previous one, crabs were killed, islands walked like men and our story ended with 13 x-men and some questions as to what they were going to do with such a thing. This time we get our answer as most of those x-men leave, one who stays dosen't have long for this world, and a narrator is a real dick to cyclops. To me my x-men!

Warhunt:

So with this issue we begin Chris Claremont's actual tenure on the book… KINDA. See while Warhunt is scripted by Claremont Len Wein still plotted it for Giant Sized X-Men #2, where it was planned to have the All-New All-Diffrent X-Men continue. But the book was such a MASSIVE hit, they couldn't resisit bringing it back from reprints, and with Len Wein busy with editing AND the hulk, he passed it on to Chris, and the rest is history.

Warhunt picks up shortly after Giant Sized with, as so perfectly Claremontily put, the breaking of a man's heart: While Charles Xavier gladly congradulates the x-men, Sunfire decides to tell them all to fuck off, and while true to form Shiro is a dick about it.. he does make a point: he agreed to help for one mission, he did that. He never agreed to join the team and given he stormed off before the mission even began and only came back out of honor, I honestly don't know what Charles expected

The rest of the All New All Diffrent X-Men now have to decide if their staying or not: Storm is the first to agree to stay, deciding that "two days is nothing", fitting Ororo's spirit perfectly and marking a nice shift to the character we know and love, whiel Wolverine figures "Eh beats waiting around for action and shit. " Nightcrawler just sorta stands there and Colossus isn't sure.. which Xavier takes as a yes apparently as he never goes back to it and later considers it setteld after dealing with our last new member:

Xavier is a Jerk: 4

Banshee is said last one and his response is "I"m too old at 40 somethign to be doing this! Begorah or something!" but Xavier goads him with a "Well if you can't hang with these 20 somethings then bawk bawk chicken man bawk bawk" and Cyclops makes the more persuasive argument that he woudln't have to run anymore, he' dbe among friends. Banshee agrees and Xavier has an x-man and assumes it's settled.. onlyf or angel to drop this bombshell

The original x-men, minus Cyclops have all decided to leave as their adutls now and want to live their own lives. The reasoning isn't terrible.. but the execution is abrubt as hell. It's just "Whelp we were doing this yesterday but now we don't have to piss off old man!" I don't mind the original x-men leaving: Scott , as we'll get into in a moment, gives us a represntive for the old guard, and most of them come back in some form with Jean, Warren and Alex all rejoining eventually at diffrent points. It allows the new characters to breathe. But for fans of the original roster it had to be a small slap in the face ot see the originals just decide

I get this was originally supposed to be a large one shot, but for such a big event you'd thinkt hey'd of left more than about a page worth of explination. Even for the more action heavy bronze age, this is abrubt.

We do thankfully get some Pathos as there's one X-Man who isn't so sure he's getting the fuck out of there: Scott Summers. His brother.. is a bit of a dick saying "I don't mean to push you big brother but…" then you do Alex. You do mean to push him. You a'll made this decision without talking to him or asking what he wanted.

God Dammit Alex: 1

Trust me.. i'm going to need this. I"m also going ot need this

Go Fuck Yourself Wolverine: `1

Yeah early on Wolverine's main personality is being a prick and trying to murder anyone within claws range, so expect this to shoot up real quick. Case in point he gets mad that… 3 people who genuinely love and repsect professor xavier find it hard to break it to him their leaving. And alex and lorna too I guess.

So it's up to Cyclops to stay or go and we get this gem of a line

Comedy. Gold. As is the fact that to signify he's not leaving he wears his full costume to say goodbye to his friends. Oh and I almost forgot this key part of this feature

God Hates Scott Summers Count: 2

For his CURSED MUTANT ENERGY BLASTING EYES

What ends up working though is his goodbye.. and his first words outline the character arc Chris has planned for him and really speaks to WHO scott is when written at his best

Scott.. is a man of duty. This can often be poorly translated to adaptations as "boring stick up his ass man with CURSED MUTANT ENERGY BLASTING EYES action", but when written right he's the first belieiver in xavier's dream and his best student. He's a man whose trained himself and his powers to their peak and will fight to the last person, a master tacitcian who is hard to take out even if he's easy to disarm and will not give up. He's batman if batman had CURSED MUTANT ENERGY BLASTING EYES instead of cool gadgets. He's a good man doing his best for the world and his people. But he's also at the end of it.. alone. He found love, but ultimately his duty comes first because it has to. Because someone has to fight for this, someone has to keep going. The question Claremont poses, at least before things go off the rails thanks to editorial but we'll get to that is can Scott give it up? Coudl someone else do the job he's chained to? We'll find out as we go.

For now though we soon see after why he has the job as once the original class is off to form a failing superhero team or show up in just three or four issues, Scott gets the x-men to training and while I can't show it here as it's too big, we see a glorious one page spread of him pushing the x-men to their absolute limits int he danger room over the next few weeks. To quote the page

"And so it begins, the days, the weeks, of training. Six horus a day, five days a week, week in, week out until the halls of this old, venerable mansion echo and re-echo with the suonds of battle, until these neophyte x-men begin to wonder if there was ever a time when they weren't fighting for thier lives. And when they falter, give in a little, give up, a voice snaps them back into line. A harsh voice, an angry voice, biting, merciless. The voice of the man named cyclosp who drives the x-men hard and himself harder, who takes six proud unique indviduals, six loners and outcasts.. and forges them into a team "

It's a whopper of a narration and speaks to Claremont's strength: to many back then narration was just part of how comics were done. But Chris goes all out , making it every bit as descriptive and flowery as he can, every bit as gripping. Is it a tad cheesy sometimes? Oh yes, and we'll get to the shining example of that soon, but when it works, it works. Instead of feeling like he's explaning what your seeing with your eyes, it helps enhance it, adding an extra grandeur to the procedings.

At any rate eventually the training gets tiriing and Thunderbird gets cut by a laser and Cyclops yells at him, he yells back and Charles yells at both of them to "cease this shameful display"..

Professor Xavier is a Jerk Count: 5

This one is a bit .. milder though. While HOW he did it was stupid, he's right that Cyclops can't just blow up at his teammates, though Scott is just as right that Thunderbird NEEDS to be careful.

We then cut to Valhalla Military Base, the headquarters of Norad in this universe and home of several dozen missles. It's likely based on actual miltary bases, as Chris himself served in the RAF and thus likes to inject both aircraft and military stuff in where possible. So here we get one of the DUMBEST supporting characters i've ever seen. He gets an unmarked package and opens it, which itsel fis bad.. but then this happens

Okay it's actually a DIFFRENT bunch of weird animal persons with presumibly smaller dicks, but I need a minute to pick apart how much this guy deserves his darwin award. In a secure miltiary base, in a world where superheroes are a known quanitity to the point the goverment frequently calls the avengers for help and even does so with this very crisis, where supervillians are frequent and shield is likely a call away.. you decide to PRESS some random button you got in the mail. Yes his friends all joke and he assumed it was from them but even pre 9/11 i'm confident most goverment personel knew to actually.. check packages and make sure they were safe in the headquarters of fucking NORAD. I mean I get it a bunch of animal people, the ani-men naturally, teleporting in isn't what you expect but like.. someone could've set it to shut down their tech or to blast him in the face with acid or just explode in a cloud of knockout gas. There's a million ways this could've gone wrong without super furries.

What makes this somehow funnier and more agrviating? This was a PLAN. Count Nefaria's grand master plan for his Ani-Men's attack… was to pick the dumbest man in all of NORAD, to likely spend hours going over personel files he bought off HYDRA or something, just to pick the ONE GUY who would be stupid enough to do this and hope his buddies were equally dumb enough to not stop him. He likely tracked shifts, made sure everything lined up .. just so he could do a plan that as we'll see still ended up stupid because despite his detailed files he still didn't.

Anyways the ani men clear these guys out and we meet said count. Count Nefaria is a long time marvel villian, a chap in a dracula style suit and cape and i'll admite a dope ass monocle. Sadly despite said dope ass monocle… I really have never liked him. He later gained a crapton of superpowers.. but all he's ever been to this point is a generic bwahahaha villian who happens to just be powerful, and ta this point he isn't even that. Hopefully the currently running x-men: lethal legion fixes this, but for now he's just one of the more boring villians the avengers and x-men have fought despite his singifigance to both. It's not a huge shock that despite reinventing plenty of old x-men foes , this guy never showed up again and was brought in by his predecssor's plot. Anyways Nefaria puts the rest of the facility to sleep with some mmmmm drugs and makes his demands, which Charles calls the x-men in to hear. Turns out he was forwarded this by beast. As I mentioned last time Beast was an avenger at the time, so he wasn't there for the big goodbye and is also kinda confused all his friends are gone and Charles.. dosen't bother to explain

Xavier is a Jerk: 6

I get they only have three hours but he could you know say "I will tell you in a little bit but for now these are the x-men" I mean he probably did but there's exactly ONE person Hank knows in that group. He's bound to have questions like "are the others okay" "where did they go" and "why are you such a dick sir and can future me take lessons for you when I go into my mostly supervillian phase?"

Xavier ratchets up another

Xavier is a Jerk: 7

Right after as he forces Scott to take thunderbird with them despite being injured and planning to punch cyclops if he refuses. Because that will surely end well.

At any rate our heroes head in and we get our first instance of anti-mutant racisim in this run as the general was expecting the avengers, though while he's not happy about "You muties" the first apperance of Chris' fantastic slur that would become a staple of x-men from here on, he has no choice… and the x-men have only 45 minutes. So it's like metroid if ridley was a european count clearly doing some hard meth.

Our heroes encounter a big roadblock as Nefaria lobs missles at them while calling them his greatest enemies.. when at this point all they did was fight him once, while the avengers destroyed his castle, go thim deported to italy and thrown out of the maggia. IT's not a huge shock he went back to fighting them after this as it feels more personal and he started getting minons and such.

At any rate our heroes soon face the bases sonic disruptor.. aka SOME SORT OF DEATHRAY THAT COMPLETELY DESTROYS THE BLACKBIRD.

Also

Blackbirds Destroyed: 1

I have a feeling i'm going to need this.

We enter our next issue as the x-men are FREEEE, FREEEE FALLLIN. Cyclops, once he recaps the previous issue in his head, comes up with a plan: have storm and banshee each take two people, and nightcrawler just teleport. This.. is one of Cyclops less proud moments as said plan is tripped up by two things he really should've known after weeks of training or at least asked about before trying to field test them: Kurt CAN teleport… but the law of conservation of energy means his velocity sticks. This nicely not only adds a weakness to kurt's powers, but also explains why he can come out of it into a punch or what have you: his momentum goes with him, while Banshee can only carry one at a time and thus has to come back for scott. It makes Scott come off like a weak leader: I get not knowing EVERYTHING, no one will know about Wolverine's healing factor for some time, but it's weird to emphasis they've trained together for weeks.. and then not have Cyclops test one of the most vital manuvers a team needs to pull off, especially when you reguarly travel by jet and said jet can easily be batted out of the air by enemies. I mean the death ray is diffrent and their will be a good explination when we get to magneto why he wasn't on the roster for training, but getting out quickly and safely in case the jet crashes should be one of the first things he prepares for and feels weird he didn't.

As for colossus we do get a very ncie payoff ot that scene I drew attention to last time where Storm REFUSED to let him drop despite him asking to, and he was understandably annoyed. We find out why as this time with this delightful image.

It's a nice funny moment, and while everyone worrying h'ed killed himself is a bit.. much givne they haven't known him long and don't know what he can survivie, the payoff is genuinely hilarious. Everyone doubted him, but PItor.. is just fine. We also get a ncie little scene of Banshee rescuing cyclops.

Now their at the base Scott gets his braincell back and has a fairly clever plan, have Nightcrawler teleport inside: while blind telporting is incredibly risky for Kurt, here it's less of an issue as he at least has an idea since it is an access hatch. He soon encounters one of the Ani-Men croaker and we get mroe anti-mutant hysteria in an intresting way: despite bein ga mutate (i.e. a human given powers via a vat of radioactive cream of wheat or what have you instead of the x-gene), Croaker is still a bigot, considering Kurt a freak despite having every reason to sympathize, showing that bigory.. is often just blind stupidity. Kurt beats his racist ass though but he gets away and the X-Men deal with a few issues: murder gas, brainwashed soldiers, etc.

We then get a fight with the ani men, which is sadly short, but still fun. Honestly I like THEM even if I don't like the count as they have intresting desgins, a unique dynamic with the x-men as seen with croaker and the tragedy of badly wanting ot be human again. It's sad they didn't show up again even if it's good count chocula didn't. The fight also has a truly great moment when we see what happens when you try and use hypossi on a man whose control of his CURSED MUTANT ENERGY BLASTING EYES is the only thing keeping you safe.

So with that the team splits, most of them trying to shut down the doomsmith in time while Thunderbird and Banshee go after Nefaria.. and this… is where we get what this story is known for. Nefaria attempts to get away in a plane, but Thunderbird refuses to let him and jumps on it, recklessly attacking him while everyone BEGS him to stop from Banshee to Xavier. Granted Xavier also does the dick move of yelling at cyclops for focusing on the doomsmith.. despite Scott having no way to know Thunderbird is in danger nor the Doomsmith was destroyed in the fight until Xavier TELLS him these things

Xavier is a Jerk: 8

Seriously I didn't expect this to stack up so quick. At any rate the x-men run tos ave thunderbird from himself, but he refuses Xavier's warnings and the others ar etoo later… and all Charles can do.. is stay with him as the inevetible happens

Thunderbird is dead. The first x-man has fallen in the line of duty. And I know Changeling died as Xavier's body double, but this is the first example that was purely in duty. And it'd stick till 2021 which for comics.

As for WHY it happened it's simple: the team didn't need two argumantive tough guys. You only needed one to reguarly tell Cyclops

And since Wolverine was more popular and had more unqiue powers with his claws, Johnny was chosen to bite the bulet.. or plane.

I"m torn on this decision. On the one hand, I see why they choose Wolverine to live: he had a hell of an intro fighting the hulk, and while he wasn't exactly well liked at first, he fit the role of contrarian jackass better as unlike Thunderbird, he clearly HAD seen a lot of field duty so he had just enough cred to understand why he keeps checking cyclops, but just enough psychotic rage for you to pick Scott over him at this point. In contrast Thunderbird was just a punk kid who came out of nowhere and constantly got himself in danger. HIs death made more sense.

The problem is int he implications: they took a frustrated 20 something who hated white people.. and had him die for ignoring a white guy and that be all he's EVER known for for several decades. I get Len really didn't think these implications through, but the fact no one else ever thought to fix this till 2021 (though the Hickman era TILL then gets a pass as they likely had said revivial planned), is messed up. It's not the most messed up racial landmine the x-men have ever dealt with , but it's still pretty bad not helped by John being one of only two POC on the team at the time of his death and another POC character wouldn't join till 14 years later with Forge. He's also literally drawn with red skin. It was this fucked up coloring thign they did back then, Shang Chi's was gold at first. That's not Chris nor Len's fault, but it is profudly fucked that was marvel policy and shoudln't really go without mention. Chris would get slightly better at this as while he didn't add any more poc to the x-men, the new mutants were far more diverse, and Dani Moonstar would go on to be a fully fleshed out three dimensional native american character and not one who feeds into harmful sterotypes and dies in the span of three issues.

Overall Warhunt is.. eh. While Len did a great job plotting the first story this one feels way more rushed and really should've had another issue to breathe or two before they killed off John as while his death is presented well.. we barely knew him. It dosen't help that while the ani men like I said are intresting, Nefaria REALLY dosen't have a strong connection to the x-men or come off as much of a threat. They try , but his plan is so stupid and he does so little besides teleport in after his minons do the hard part and seemingly die in a plane crash, that it's no wonder Claremont had zeor intrest in having him come back despite having taken an x-man with him. The story is impotant historically.. but honestly reads fairly dry. Thankfully dry, rife with implications, or bad aren't things you can really say about our next story

Night of the Demon:

Now we properly begin Chris' run on the book with one of my faviorite single x-men issues. I mean there are a lot, Chris was great at longterm story but just as fantastic at making one off stories, but this one just has a great pacing, bonkers premise that ends up working, and some good character moments.

It also helps it begins with one of the most hilarious moments in x-men history that also somehow still works dramatically. The first page or two is the narration just.. berating cyclops, who naturally is taking his first casualtiy as a leader not at all well and while I get the intent, it's mostly just Scott beating himself up but since internal caption boxes weren't a thing yet , it instead comes off as the narrator yelling at him, cumilating in this glorious pile of panels.

The Narrator is a Jerk: 1

What keeps it from being just hilaroius though is scott following it up by letting loose with his powers for the first time, really letting it all out.. and destroying the surronding forest leaving a devistated husk.. and also destroying some old obelisk. Eh probably nothing to worry about.

And you can really tell Chris has been left to his own devices with scott… because we get ANOTHER graet character defining moment here.. not only does Scott berate himself for doing this.. but he also comes to term with the death quickly, but in a way that makes sense for him: He wanted to be the leader.. choose it over leaving..a nd this is what comes with it. Sometimes you train up a good man .. and sometimes he dies. You can't control it. John choose to stay on the plane… and Cyclops has to choose to go on living, wishing john a nice rest in piece.. while smoke rises behind him which can only mean one thing

While that goes on the x-men train and Logal reacts to a stray blow by cyclops like a sane, well put together indvidual

Yeah this is probably the most infamous of Early Logan's jackassery. He attempts to murder TWO diffrent teammates because one accidently hit him (and apologized and made sure he was okay) and another laughed at him. And his second would be victim is now his best friend.

Rather than deal with the fact one of his X-Men just tried to stab another in front of him Charles instead talks to Banshee about Scott's mental state…

I mean I can't fault him for worrying about Scott or the roving narrator stalking him, he's the closest thing he has to a son as far as he knows. But is he really going to say nothing about Wolverine trying to make Kurt into blue sauerkraut. Raelly? Well okay then

Xavier is a Jerk: 9 There is a layer to this I didn't notice till I started writing the review though: Charles confides in Sean… because he's likely the next one up if Cyclops needs time off to mourn or to set himsef straight. It's a great use of show don't tell, impliclty telling us Banshee is the x-men's second in command at this point. It also makes sense at this point: Storm , Colossus and Nightcrawler are all brand new to this and Wolverine just tried to cut up two diffrent teammates for looking at him funny. Sean by contrast has fuller control of his powers, has been at this a while and while new to x-manning has the stablity and experince needed. It's also intresting to already hint at something years down the line: the idea of an x-man lineup without cyclops. Keep in mind we're only on issue THREE of claremont's run and fourth of this era overall, but intentional or not the seeds for a later arc are there. Wethere this scene helped him decide on where Cyclops went during his run or something else, it's neat to note.

Finally for this scene Charles asks Sean to go meet their house keeper.. and meet her he does…

Moria MacTaggert, scientest, secret mutant , the love of sean's life.. and for this arc ostebnsible housekeeper, though Claremont already clearly has other plans for her.

More on that in a bit for now we cut to Project Armageddon.

Yes Project Armageddon is the brain child of Stephen Lang who weirdly is not , as far as we currently know, related at all to Scott Lang. For now i'm just going to assume he's Scott's deranged cousin he dosen't like to talk about. You can easily see why in this panel as he outlines the project to former friend and air force col micheal rossi, whose here to see if the goverment should scrap this..

Okay 1) if this wasn't the us goverment i'd be honestly shocked he embezzled a billion dollars and their just now caring about it, and 2) Ther'es nothing that quite sells your project like wide eyed ranting about how you need to 'KILL THEM BEFORE THEY KILL US KILL THEM ALL". Granted nowadays you'd have cable news talking about how your an upstanding indvidiual whose just misunderstood, so maybe Lang just pitched it in the wrong decade. At any rate Lang is convinced thanks to previous arcs the mutants are a threat, feeling they killed Bolivar Trask and Larry, his so. Both died due to his own creations the sentinels, who I assume need no introduction but for those who have never heard of the x-men apparently their giant killer robots designed to kill mutants.. who usuallyd ecide the best way to do that is to enslave humanity too, yet keep getting built because humans be smart. So yeah he's talking out of his racism hole and Rossi intends to shut down the project which Lang naturally responds to by saying he'll never get to washington.. ALIVE.

Lang is the first racist the x-men face in this run and feels like the blue print to most anti-human bigot antagonists afterwords: he bleivies "their going to replace us", uses sentinels, and has an elaborate plan for genocide done in secret. It's a blueprint the x-men will see a lot and most human villians from here on out follow in some way up to Orchis in present day, but with enough variety to not get too tiresome.

Back at the mansion Sean flirts with Moira, kicking off one of the most stable and enduring relatoinships in x-men history which surely won't end horribly and have Sean become a spooky ghost as a result, while Storm questions who the eff is this? Xavier says "tha'ts my affair" but assures her her secrets safe with him. Why dosen't he tel lher? Because

Xavier is a Jerk: 11

Anyways this party is interupted like most x-men parties… by Cyclops getting thrown thorugh the window, in a way that feels like a young kevin eastman and peter laird were taking notes… and as for what did it.. .well you'd think given what the x-men usually fought it'd be a supervillian, perhaps the juggernaught or one of 80 aliens they fought in the OG Era or maybe stephen lang got started early.. but no the result.. is gloriously batshit and out of left field.

Yeah for those less familiar with the x-men… Chris started an important trend: ANYTHING can go in an x-men story. The X-Men rival the TMNT in terms of "franchises that are a core part of me that really can do whatever the fuck I want. " Part of the problem with the films as they went on is they tried to tamp down on the inherent weirdness instead of embrace it which made sense for the first trilogy, as they were trying to sell superhero movies to an audience at all, but by the mcu era where the compettition was throwing out talking racoons it made less nad less sense ot not go to space or bring in a giant one eyed demon who happened to be sealed in Charles back yard for some reason. It' sone of the big charms of Claremont's Run: he knows Comic BOoks can be inherently goofy… and thus leans into it, decades before the 2000's made it more standard practice. He has over the top villians and set pieces but grounds them in character. I mean this demon what was sealed in Charles back yard.. came from Cyclops being in deep grief over his first casualty as a commander.

It also shows the gulf between Nefaria last issue and Kireok here. Kireok.. also dosen't really go on to be all tha timportant, with other demons taking his spot once we get into everything with Limbo here and over in new mutants. But where as Nefaria is a standard d-list super villian, Kirreok is an unstoppable, horrifying demon. A being who EAISLY steamrolls through most of the x-men's early attempts, shaking off Cyclops at full power, which we just saw decimate a forest, shurging off coloss and nightcralwer tyring to pummel him and easily downing storm. the only one who can harm him.. is wolverine… and it's only by sinking to the monsters brutal level

Once again Chris well sums up where the characters are at: in this case Wolverine is a murderous beserker, able to go after foes with a savage rage purely on instinct.. but as we've seen it also means he attacks his own allies, has no real friends ad this point.. and unlike how he'll be later he enjoys it. He LIKES being more beast than man and is glad for it.. the questoin is really.. how long will this stick?

At any rate Kirreok proves how deadly he is by regenerating, so Charles does the natural thing and tries to read his mind…. and we get one of dave cockrums best panels. I haven't talked much about his art but it's a thing of beauty..and it's at one of it's heights here

Cosmic Horror Nightmares distlled into one panel, breaking the usually inflappable heart of the x-men. Thankfully Charles recovers because he's been through some shit and sends storm to do it. We get another good character moment and it's incredible just how many claremont packed into one issue. It dosen't slow down the main story either, each one's baked in but we've got moments that clearly set up character arcs for Cyclops, Wolverine and now storm who flies to go face these demons. Oh and MOira who I amost forgot to mention goes after Kirreok with a convient gun from the conveient armory we'll convenetly neve rheard about again.

But Storm's scen eis a classic as she gets swarmed by demons and i'ts a shame Cockrum's two runs on the books didn't have at on of demons, as he's very good at horror artwork and the monsters look truly grotesque and alien. Thankfully he WOULD ge tto design several actual aliens, so it ballances it's just a shame. But what we do get is horrifying as storm is enricled… and then flashes back to a happy childhood.. before seeing herself buried in rubble. This will be crucial next time as her clastrophobia comes more into focus but for now it means sh'es free and can seal the cairn the demons came from with lightning. Our heroes one.. but Storm is convienced Kirreok will return while Col Rossi apparnetly died in a firey explosion. And that's where we leave it.

Next TIme: We find out Stephen Lang's evil master plan as the sentinels return just in time for christmas! Cyclops brother sucks suprising no one! And the Juggernaught returns but can the all new x-men stop this motherfucker? UNtil then, thanks for reading my x-men