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[jaw-the-fandom-hopper]

𝙈𝙮 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙏𝙎𝙎𝙈 𝙈𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝙃𝘾𝙨

(𝙛𝙩. 𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧/𝙈𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙖/𝙅𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙒. 𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙚)

[✖] Warning: Lengthyyy postt... (again), angst, mentions of depression, toxic masculinity, repressed homosexuality, smoking, drinking, implied murder/killing, lmk if anything else needs to be tagged ✉ A/N: This one was actually set up as a draft and has a few hcs that were inspired a WHILE ago by @voltrixz and @mr-voorhees-husband, (and the movie Sinners too apparently...) so shout out to them and go check out their works :]!!

•----------• pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3

► Now Playing: Hozier - Angel of Small Death and The Codeine Scene

𐚁 I think about the fact that one of the decors in Montana's Big Sky bar quite literally says:

"NO FIGHTING, SPITTING, GAMBLING, CUSSING, SCRATCHING!"

... My personal hc of that is that Montana had placed up that set of rules a long time ago, back when he had initially gotten Big Sky for the first time. This would be at a time where he was also in the process of starting out his job as an Enforcer or at least a job akin to it (basic mercenary work) before his big score working for Tombstone. It'd be a time that he'd still have some level of morality in him and a wish to be "good" but, gradually the rules just begun to lose its meaning altogether. Good men and heroes don't get paid to just simply be good, unfortunately. So, he probably stopped reinforcing the rules, at least some of them. Hell, he probably doesn't even actually follow all if not a few of them.

But he still keeps it up, just as a reminder.

𐚁 Montana's got a pick-up truck. I'm sorry. He just genuinely gives me the vibe of some guy who owns a pickup truck and HEY. It's incredibly convenient for him I'd like to think (probably has a Dodge Ram or something too... Although, you can honestly change that because I am NOT familiar with car breeds, forgive me). With his bar, I'd imagine he'd probably need something to bring in new furniture he'd find or other.

He'd use it in his line of work too, when Big Man sends out a hit on a particular unlucky individual, the bodies might need moving or shovels need to be brought, maybe a can of gasoline. It's efficient, convenient and it's his.

—Said pickup truck would also probably be old, like really old. Definitely was used before he got proper ownership of it. It's black, and its interior has a bit of worn down leather seats. He's probably got one of those little pine tree air fresheners that smell of "black ice", and more often than not you'll find half-empty cigarette boxes, or a pair of leather gloves, a tool he'd been looking weeks for lost beneath the seats, something like that.

𐚁 He's got another vehicle too, and it wasn't initially intended to be there but... I'd like to imagine that Montana in his youth at least had some and if not one irresponsible spending. Maybe it was his first big paycheck and he started saving before this came along and caught his eye... That being a motorcycle (grrr... My head has been filled with biker montana propaganda... grrr...). Nights of adrenaline sparking joy rides, and reckless runs have now been reduced since he moved to the big city. It's hard to relive nights of speeding down long roads when the traffic is that bad, so the bike kind of just sits neglected from time to time until the opportunity presents itself for him to feel a bit young for once. Plus, it occasionally gets its moments of daylight whenever his truck ends up breaking down. It's always good to have a backup.

𐚁 He likes country music, that much is probably a no-brainer, but if we're being specific. I think he'd like country blues, and if I was to be REALLY specific about it—Chicago and Texas blues. He's got a few records and discs that sit around in his office in the back, probably stuff like "Pride and Joy" or "Texas Flood" by Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble, or maybe even "At Home Alone" by John Primer, just something he can play in the background while drinking by himself in his bar on late nights.

𐚁 Montana's not entirely a traditional man, and he's not that close-minded I'd like to think... BUT, that isn't to say that he still has a few beliefs in him that might be considered old fashioned to a degree like the idea of "being a man" or some other subjects. Something about the idea that a man must carry all the responsibilities and the weight of it by himself, is a thought that's embedded itself into his mind, hard-wired. The idea of being emotionally vulnerable and open about his emotions, past, or even everything he's been through so far is a no go. Crying? Hell no, not in front of people and not ever. He will not allow that for himself or the privilege of anybody else seeing that. Some of his beliefs almost and UNCOMFORTABLY border on toxic masculinity, the idea of "controlling your emotions" instead of letting them run rampant runs in his mind and it joins hand-in-hand with the unhealthy notion that "you shouldn't be emotional or open about what you're feeling."

𐚁 A few other ideas that he holds himself up to is to refuse the offer of help, not when he can do it himself. He's faced the experience of how cruel and unforgiving life can be in the form of a complete punch to the face type of lesson, and stack that on a few times? He's practically grown used to it. He's incredibly firm about how self-sufficient he is, and he's stubborn about it. Asking for help from anybody but himself is another cemented thought process he has, and he has the attitude that he trusts himself first over anybody else (even his own Enforcers). Unless he's in a state where he's in a physically/medically critical situation or straight up knocked out, you are going to be going through the TRENCHES trying to get this man to genuinely get off his high horse about receiving help, this extends to confronting him about any emotional/mental problems he has.

𐚁 There's also natural part of him that refuses to allow people to get incredibly close to him. That isn't to say he is incapable of having any close relationships whether it's romantic or platonic. He just prefers (for the better) some sort of distance just enough to sever off the feelings in him and lie to himself that whatever relation he had meant nothing, or at least not as much as he'd like to lie to himself about. He is in a dangerous line of work, the idea of having a relationship, much less a friendship that forces him to care about someone deeply is admittedly terrifying when they could disappear from his life at any moment. It's why he mainly sticks to either having some friendships, and hookups/flings. Leaves him often feeling lonely at times, but in his personal mind. It's for the better of himself. A self-made martyr designed for nobody else but him.

𐚁 Speaking of intimacy/closeness/and relationship stuff like that, I also think he'd also have a bit of repressed homosexuality. It's already scary enough for him to be with a woman and care for them deeply, but being with a man? That's just as equally conflicting, and if not more so. It's not to say that being against homosexuality was something that was heavily pushed down his throat. He probably had some sort of experience with religion at some point in his life. He probably never even thought of how he personally felt about it until a situation would have to arrive and slap him in the face over it. He's not used to the idea and even at times when he gets as close as he is with a man, he would never realize how close or how comfortable he is until it bites him in the ass and haunts him. He wouldn't even have a proper reason of why it's wrong or how it's "not right" in the first place which would send him even further down the pit of questioning himself.

𐚁 I'd also headcanon him personally as a man who's not really religious either. Faintly monotheistic? I think he'd at least believe there's some kind of Hell or Heaven, or maybe even some kind of god up there but it's not really a strong belief either. He's more than open to using the lord's name in vain rather than keeping it clean off his tongue. He just barely dances the line between atheist and monotheist, with some ghost of Christian belief in him. (Also, it's more fun that way to make him go insane when he can't directly use God/religious beliefs as a reason to why he feels "pressed" about his homosexuality. Yess... Make this man dread. Make this man search for a reason he has no belief in. Make this man question himself... Gay thoughts... Gay thoughts be upon ye—also if it matters to anybody, probably not, I personally headcanon him as at least bi with a little male-leaning preference... Then again I do it with every character I come across. Call me King Pride-ass)

𐚁 Used to be a huge flirt when he was younger, definitely was more prone to a few hookups and flings in his time. He considers himself a little bit "rusty" now but give him a shot of confidence or at least a moment and he'll be talking like he's right back to his old ways. (I'll probably talk more about the dating/romantic aspects of this man in a future dating hcs list)

𐚁 He's got a bit of a smoking/drinking problem. Smokes from time to time, but it's not always. Drinking though?? That, is more accessible to him, and he is absolutely a drinker. It used to be worse in his younger days when he was more "free" and reckless but as he's gotten older. It's gotten... A little better?? (I say this like it's a lot but actually it just translates to: you'll find him shit-faced and/or passed out in an alley a lot less, now the rarity will just be more found in his bar after closing hours). With his smoking problem, he probably has a tendency to just tell off people who hassle him about it that he's either far too deep into it now to stop, or the golden "I can stop whenever I want to"

𐚁 Montana is not by any means an insecure man about his looks. He's not overly narcissistic about it but he's at least comfortable in both appearance and his body. Doesn't stop him from being a smidgen surprised if someone openly brings up how handsome he looks.

𐚁 He likes escaping out of the city at times with nothing but a pack of beer out in the back of his truck, and a place out in the woods somewhere or just.. Somewhere far enough to get away from the city and clear his head. Sometimes he'll bring Fancy Dan or Ox along with him, sometimes he'll go alone. He mainly does it because he misses the countryside, and there's times where he might've regretted abandoning his old life as a cattle hand to go live his life dancing on the edge of a knife like this as an Enforcer... Or maybe that's the bottle talking for him.

𐚁 Not entirely all that artistic? (Look at the interior of his bar.. COUGH) Like I mentioned in my past hcs about him being at least good at origami, I'd like to think he's capable of making a few crafted pieces, but it's not entirely great. I think the closest form of art Montana might be able to do is whittling, and that's mainly because he works well with a knife. If you ask him to make you a drawing, he probably won't be as confident but given that he's also quite a bit of an observer to things. I think he'd be able to sketch and if not roughly draw something up for you that looks something like this. Also WILL NOT believe you if you tell him it looks good.

𐚁 Speaking of being an observer, he has a habit of people-watching. It kinds of ties into the fact that his main and natural role is being a strategist. Just sits back and analyzes a situation before calling the shots. I mean that as well as in... Wherever he goes, he at least ALWAYS gets a good look of the room he's in and if it's a cafe, restaurant, or some other type of establishment. He wants a spot that sort of gives him the entire layout of a room. He wants to know EVERYTHING that is happening around him in the very case that someone is following or is looking to take him out (working for the Big Man means that he's also prone to being victim to any of Big Man's enemies by association. Also undercover police or some other...). If he's also spent a long enough time at a place or around certain people, he's grown a habit of knowing people by their footsteps before they walk through the door.

𐚁 Probably has a bit of depression but he won't realize it in himself. Unless someone else starts bringing it up for him to realize it? He'll be in a bit of denial. He's trying to dig himself a rather modest/humble life but that's kind of hard when your life is being threatened at all angles. He's cautious all the time. Trusts no one. He's killed people. It's obviously done things to the man that he'd rather stuff in the back of his mind or into the bottom of a bottle. He's mentally fatigued and constantly stressed out. Doesn't show it at all but... He's tired. Always. And notably brushes it off like it's nothing. Always.

𐚁 He knows some other languages besides English, not well enough to write, and probably knows enough to speak with broken words... Which in his mind, means he can't speak it for shit either. But he DOES understand some words, he's in a job where he's been tasked in killing people of all backgrounds, meeting people from all kinds of backgrounds, and obtaining knowledge about certain people. He runs a bar, he's definitely heard a few things. I'd imagine at least one of the language he somewhat knows is Spanish, a few words here and there, a sentence or two, but don't try and start a conversation with him. He'll probably lose you at around the first five to three words. EVEN IF HE DOESN'T KNOW EXACTLY WHAT SOMEONE IS SAYING, I'D LIKE TO HOPE HE'S A CRITICAL THINKER. I'D LIKE TO IMAGINE THAT HE CAN PIECE TOGETHER WHAT A FEW WORDS MEAN... Like, based on the tone and at least a couple familiar English words that sound the same.

𐚁 Pretty decent with a guitar, he probably used to be a lot better in his youth and could play a few songs, but he's gotten a bit rusty nowadays. He's too busy with everything else and doesn't really have time to pursue more "leisurely" hobbies. Probably has forgotten a few notes, but he can technically play it. That's about it.

𐚁 Not entirely the best cook per say, but he’s incredibly competent in the culinary field. I mean this as in, for a guy who SHOULD legally have a food facility health permit—along with a few other things, Montana should at least be able to know the basics (and this is probably the most random headcanon I came up but as a kid back then who had to go through a Food Protection Course in my culinary class and it was MIND BOGGLING. You bet I’m projecting onto this completely random cowboy). You can at least trust him in the kitchen not to turn it into soot and cinder. He knows how long food should stay out. He knows the FIFO method. He knows the temp for meat without looking it up. He knows food safety. You can TRUST HIM I PROMISE.

𐚁 That being said, he's a basic cook. Knows how to season his stuff (ooughhh I hc him as a bit of cajun in him ooough), and if he's making food. He's at least making good food for himself. He doesn't care how it looks sometimes, as long as it tastes good and keeps him fed. He's happy about his work. Probably knows at least one recipe (maybe gumbo)

𐚁 Probably knew how to dance once in his younger days too, maybe a swing, a waltz, or even dare I say square dancing, but nowadays. He's not prone to "making himself look like a fool," at least not without a bottle or two first so he can swallow his pride with.

[jaw-the-fandom-hopper]

[jaw-the-fandom-hopper]

@loveydoveyuniverse requested Lobo for the free commission they got in exchange for being my 4000th reblog.

Thanks for sharing my work everyone.

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this image can only be shared on Thursday, Sept. 12

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[jaw-the-fandom-hopper]

Hello ! My supporting friends ,🖤💚💔🤍🍉

Thank you from my heart for what you are doing for the people of Gaza who are in bad need in this tough and dire time. 💔💚🖤🤍

You are examples for kindness, generosity and nobility. You have been standing with for long and showing how brave one should be in time of need. 🍉🍉🍉🍉

You helped me greatly to make progress in my campaign, but I am still in need of your kind support to reach my goal.✌️✌️

As noticed, the campaign is very slow😪😪 now and needs strong move and this can be carried out through your contribution and cooperation. 😯😯

Please don't leave us alone during this dire time. I am still in the first quarter of my campaign. ❣️❣️

https://gofund.me/0dc0aa34

can you say “Scam”?

[jaw-the-fandom-hopper]

Damian took another sip, before glancing at Victor with a small, begrudgingly muttering a small, “ain’t nothin’ wrong with a cocktail..”

The sudden movement of the older mutant turning made Damian glance at Victor, seeing him with the glass in hand. For a moment, Damian just stood there, he didn’t even try and dodge.

The glass hit him with a sickening thud, followed by the crack of the glass shattering. Damian stumbled back, barely catching himself on the bar counter with a cough of shock. A large shard of glass sticking into the temple of his skull. Blood mixing with whiskey as it started to pour down his face.

Damian stood there for a moment; dazed. He didn’t even know what to do at first, yet Victor could see the wounds beginning to heal on the younger’s head. The glass shard being push out the wound by Damian’s healing factor and clattering onto the ground.

“Jesus,” Damn said after a beat. “You could have just asked me to apologize.”

Damian bit back a sneer, badly hidden annoyance in his eyes. He was never quite good at controlling his expressions— the eyes the window to the soul, something he never quite believed, even if it was the truth for him.

“Can ya’ at least stop, starin’ at me?” Damian took his new cocktail from the bartender with a word of thanks. He took a sip, the sweet drink leaving a barely there burn in his throat. He preferred it that way, easier to get drunk if you didn’t vomit by your third glass.

“Damn freak.” Damian muttered it under his breath, but that didn’t stop Victor from hearing it loud and clear.

Damian did have some noticeable differences to Logan— and his multiple bastard children. Not that much hair, almost no muscle, and the smell. It was too sweet compared to Dakon or Laura’s, it didn’t fit. For that matter, now that he was closer, Damian didn’t look all that much similar to Logan either. He was taller, a chubbier face, and his hair was too thick— which was saying something.

Maybe Victor was more drunk than he thought. Could he even get drunk, for that matter?

[jaw-the-fandom-hopper]

I can't believe all of my favorite fictional characters are only popular with old Mexican guys

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Damian bit back a sneer, badly hidden annoyance in his eyes. He was never quite good at controlling his expressions— the eyes the window to the soul, something he never quite believed, even if it was the truth for him.

“Can ya’ at least stop, starin’ at me?” Damian took his new cocktail from the bartender with a word of thanks. He took a sip, the sweet drink leaving a barely there burn in his throat. He preferred it that way, easier to get drunk if you didn’t vomit by your third glass.

“Damn freak.” Damian muttered it under his breath, but that didn’t stop Victor from hearing it loud and clear.

Damian did have some noticeable differences to Logan— and his multiple bastard children. Not that much hair, almost no muscle, and the smell. It was too sweet compared to Dakon or Laura’s, it didn’t fit. For that matter, now that he was closer, Damian didn’t look all that much similar to Logan either. He was taller, a chubbier face, and his hair was too thick— which was saying something.

Maybe Victor was more drunk than he thought. Could he even get drunk, for that matter?

The scent is too sweet, some kind of cedar cologne with dark chocolate soap. No one else would notice something like that, especially not from the distance Victor was at. Several feet away in a crowded bar full of different smells and sounds.

For a while, Damian didn’t notice Victor. Then he finally did. Damian glanced over at the counter and unintentonally locked eyes with Victor. For a moment Damian stared back, confused. Damian didn’t look much like Logan now that Victor could get a good look at him, brown eyes instead of blue, no real facial hair, and a softer face shape.

After several agonizing and slightly awkward minutes of this odd sort of staring contest, Damian walked over to the bar. He didn’t speak to Victor at first, instead he ordered himself another cocktail before he looked back at Victor. Damian stared for a moment longer before he spoke.

“I’m sorry— do I know you?” Damian wondered before he adjusted his jacket nervously, “why are you staring at me?”

Damian wasn’t one for conflict, not at all. Yet Victor had stared at him for a while and Damian grew nervous. Maybe they did know each other? Did Damian simply forget Victor’s face?

[jaw-the-fandom-hopper]

|| Pallas Creed | Sabretooth's daughter ||

Pallas's current reference sheet (not being so chubby now)

close up images

This is furball is Pallas, Pallas Creed, she is the adopted daughter of Victor Creed in my AU. Pallas is a feral mutant with feline attributes and wild characteristics, she is going to take her father's place at some point, Victor trains her and prepares her for that.

Pallas was found by Victor on the streets of New York on a garbage container in the deep alleys, she had escaped from her current family, her body was skeletal and abused (Pallas was 12 years old). Victor thought she was completely dead, one of his thoughts was either to eat her or just return her to where she was.

Pallas was alive, she manages to tell with her little intelligence and babbling what she suffered, Victor takes pity on her and lets her stay on the condition that she cooperate with everything he says, time passes and Victor becomes attached to her and ends up adopting her completely, even giving her his last name.

Pallas is almost hidden from the world or that's what Victor tries to do, they became very attached since Pallas went through something similar to Victor in his childhood, he sees himself reflected in her...To this day, Pallas, at 21 years old, is still alive and still training, having a great relationship of mutual respect and parental respect with Sabretooth. (The reason Victor named her "Pallas" is because when she started to gain more muscle mass and shape, she became fluffy, she is a little "short", with a moody but aggressive face and Victor thought it was fun to call her that).

Other Things:

•Pallas is 1.82cm tall, her body looks chubby but now she looks a little thinner and more shaped (I have been training and losing weight to be able to make her like this lol), she has similar strength but not the same as Victor, she can lift cars easily.

• The reason why Pallas has more intelligence is thanks to Victor who educated her and gave her a serum to improve her abilities, including her intelligence. (Side effects are times where she has Tourette-like movements)

•Pallas has a rough, deep and sometimes androgynous voice (my Voice claim is Envy from Full Metal Alchemists, obviously speaking of the English dub)

•Pallas has a "Siblings" relationship with my bestie's OC named Sixx @/makearottenkill

•Pallas obviously due to Victor's influence, she hates the X-Men, Wolverine and Laura, when she found out about her existence she began to train harder to be the superior version of Laura (Like Victor and Logan).

•Despite her characteristics and heavy temperament, Pallas turns out to be a calm person, especially in public when she accompanies Victor somewhere, she is polite and quiet, she is someone who is quite clean and orderly.

•Pallas' favorite food is meat, baked meat, she is a little picky sometimes.

•Pallas' favorite type of music is instrumental tribal music or music that has that vibe.

• Pallas is gray asexual-bisexual (very bordering on asexual) and her pronouns are she/her.

Relationship with Sabretooth:

•As I said before, the relationship between these two was formed little by little, at first Pallas was afraid and a little hated Victor for being someone intimidating, but as time went by they both managed to get along.

Now their relationship is one of mutual respect, especially on the part of Pallas, although they argue like any father-daughter relationship, the one who ends up apologizing is Pallas (whether she is right or not), Sabretooth appreciates Pallas, he managed to see a mini version of him again...Normally the two of them stick together, Pallas doesn't want anyone to disrespect Victor, she becomes aggressive about this. In conclusion, Pallas is very fond of Victor for saving her and giving her a new life, she does whatever it takes to make him proud of her.

This ends here, because it is still something that is still in progress but that is all for now! Bye! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

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there is no context for this✨️🌠

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Hey, we're still in pride month, right?

a little sketch that the beautiful person @montewave gave me the idea. Let's all contemplate and love trans Victor without his mastectomy because his healing factor, ugh, poor soul... (if there is a Trans Logan, why do they leave the kitten? 😾)

(Yes, I had to censor it otherwise Tumblr kicks my ass, it's so stupid! 🙄)

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I'm kinda sad I missed getting the printed books of this webcomic

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had the urge to draw pookie again

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The scent is too sweet, some kind of cedar cologne with dark chocolate soap. No one else would notice something like that, especially not from the distance Victor was at. Several feet away in a crowded bar full of different smells and sounds.

For a while, Damian didn’t notice Victor. Then he finally did. Damian glanced over at the counter and unintentonally locked eyes with Victor. For a moment Damian stared back, confused. Damian didn’t look much like Logan now that Victor could get a good look at him, brown eyes instead of blue, no real facial hair, and a softer face shape.

After several agonizing and slightly awkward minutes of this odd sort of staring contest, Damian walked over to the bar. He didn’t speak to Victor at first, instead he ordered himself another cocktail before he looked back at Victor. Damian stared for a moment longer before he spoke.

“I’m sorry— do I know you?” Damian wondered before he adjusted his jacket nervously, “why are you staring at me?”

Damian wasn’t one for conflict, not at all. Yet Victor had stared at him for a while and Damian grew nervous. Maybe they did know each other? Did Damian simply forget Victor’s face?

He doesn't care what he's doing. He doesn't care how he's doing. He doesn't care, and he continues to tell himself that. Day in and day out. In the silence of a morning hunt, in the stillness of midnight. He doesn't care.

He doesn't miss him.

Most times, Victor can believe it. He has enough to do, his focus stays elsewhere. A fight, a hunt, a mission. He'll take anything. Anything that keeps his hands busy and mind clear. Anything that keeps the past in the past.

And yet, there he is. No matter what he does, how far he goes, Logan worms his way back to the forefront of his mind. It could be the smell of a cigar, the roar of a bike, the bright flash of blood on wallpaper. Victor thinks of him.

And he misses him. It aches like a wound torn open again at first. Then it fades to a phantom limb. Something that used to be there, something Victor used to rely on, gone.

The haunt finds him in the middle of the day, staring out the window and watching the wind blow. A brief warmth, a fond reminded of what had been followed by the sharp betrayal of what now was. Victor feels his shoulders tense, his jaw set.

He doesn't miss him. He doesn't need him. Victor's idle stare becomes a glare at his own faint reflection. Repeating the lie like a prayer, a hope that, one day, it'll be true.

He doesn't miss him.

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No matter what Victor tells himself. He misses Logan— so much so his mind begins to play tricks. Victor sees the other feral out of the corner of his eye, hears his voice late at night, and worst of all, Victor swears he can smell that damn aftershave Logan always used.

Bars had always been familiar for Victor, from dive bars to the most expensive whiskey bars, Victor was certain he had been to every bar in North America. This one was no different, an older bar in Alaska that he decided to visit because he was in town. Victor hoped to get a drink, maybe someone to join him in a motel bed.

Victor was a bottle and a half deep, and while his cell regenerative properties usually didn’t let him get drunk, he was beginning to feel the barest buzz. Sharp eyes glanced over the bar— then he saw it.

Or rather him. Logan, sitting with his back to Victor at a booth in a corner.

Of course. It wasn’t Logan. It was a mutant boy, freshly 21 and deciding to go out to a bar the first time. Damian had yet to notice Victor and he sipped peacefully at his fruity cocktail while he scrolled through his phone. His hair was in need of a cut and curled back, and the leather jacket on his back gave him the appearance that he was much larger than he really was. If Victor was able to see his face, it would be quite obvious Damian was not Logan. Not by a long shot.

He doesn't care what he's doing. He doesn't care how he's doing. He doesn't care, and he continues to tell himself that. Day in and day out. In the silence of a morning hunt, in the stillness of midnight. He doesn't care.

He doesn't miss him.

Most times, Victor can believe it. He has enough to do, his focus stays elsewhere. A fight, a hunt, a mission. He'll take anything. Anything that keeps his hands busy and mind clear. Anything that keeps the past in the past.

And yet, there he is. No matter what he does, how far he goes, Logan worms his way back to the forefront of his mind. It could be the smell of a cigar, the roar of a bike, the bright flash of blood on wallpaper. Victor thinks of him.

And he misses him. It aches like a wound torn open again at first. Then it fades to a phantom limb. Something that used to be there, something Victor used to rely on, gone.

The haunt finds him in the middle of the day, staring out the window and watching the wind blow. A brief warmth, a fond reminded of what had been followed by the sharp betrayal of what now was. Victor feels his shoulders tense, his jaw set.

He doesn't miss him. He doesn't need him. Victor's idle stare becomes a glare at his own faint reflection. Repeating the lie like a prayer, a hope that, one day, it'll be true.

He doesn't miss him.

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Adjusted both of Sabretooth and Wolverine's passive supers to better align within the actual super pause time.

(Also done with Sabretooth's cleanup, yay).