#( MUNROE ANSWERED ASKS. )

[timbit-robin-art]

I am loving your x-men art atm!! It is all so good and so cute!! Especially your chibi versions!! And I am very intrigued by your recent band au too! Logan as the reluctant yet supportive teacher is perfect! I'd love to hear more about that!! Xxxxxxx

More about Mr. Logan? Let’s see.

I think it’s a very funny idea that his backstory is the exact same despite it being an X-Men-less universe. He’s still Weapon X and did military work, it’s just that once he decided he was done with it all, he decided to become a teacher at the private school. You find this out when he’s whisked away for S.H.I.E.L.D shenanigans while the band is doing some mundane activity. Cue everyone trying to get Kurt’s chemistry grade up periodically interrupted by Mr. Logan going through actual hell.

I mentioned before that I think he knows the bass. It’s just a hobby of his, mostly to take his mind off of things, so no one else really knows he can play. Except for one specific alumni;

Mr. Logan actually recommended Rogue to Xavier’s mutant education scholarship after having a chance encounter with her. While she refused to take residency up in the Institute, she eventually gave into Mr. Logan’s urges to at least attend the school. This is the start of their delinquent-child-who-gets-adopted-by-the-gruff-old-man dynamic. Mr. Logan eventually teaches her the bass, and she really takes off with it. I can see her being a part of her own southern fem punk band after she graduates.

(I think it goes without saying that Rogue is the group’s vodka wine aunt that makes her occasional appearance. When Mr. Logan is preoccupied, leave it to Rogue to recklessly drive them to their gigs.)

Also, while we’re talking about the band universe, I think I figured out the eventual 5th member;

Meet Kitty Pryde, the freshmen that joins as their second guitar. She also knows how to play piano, but she prefers the mobility guitar grants her (she cannot stand still when she plays music). She probably met Kurt first in the music room while she was practicing for a piano recital. Though Kurt can recognize the musical talent she has, she can tell her heart isn’t into it. So now there’s a montage of Kurt and Kitty messing around with other instruments. Neither of them really know how to play anything besides piano, they’re just trying to see what feels right for Kitty. And that’s how she finds her interest in guitars.

I think it would actually take a while before she gets used to guitar. Hank would try to teach her, but Kitty’s learning style just doesn’t match well with Hank’s teaching style. So everyone thinks that she’s just not meant to play the guitar until some sort of epiphany happens, and suddenly she can absolutely shred.

She rounds out the group quite well, don’t you think?

[thestreamweaver]

Ororo and Logan should wear more formal outfits together

They look so good!

They really should!! I hope to do some art of them some time soon wearing fancy clothes and just enjoying their own time without any interruptions 😊

[ffverr]

storm for the bingo thing

Storm?? The Hadari yao? The voice of Sol? The Windrider? Yeah I might have heard of her

[lockwood-fic-recs]

Thanks so much for all the effort you put into this, I've discovered some really cool new fics through this acc! Life's quite hectic though and I struggle to get through lengthy fics ... Do you have any short recs (Ideally less than 4k)? Thank you (:

ah thank you for supporting us!! it's honestly so nice to know that people are enjoying this account <33 completely valid, sometimes life gets in the way of enjoying those long multichapters 😭 don't worry though, we've got you covered! 4k-ish and under recs, coming right up :)) before we start, i also recommend checking out any of the fics in the Lockwood and Co Flash Fiction Collection on AO3! A lot of the ones there seem like the perfect size for you <3

First Question, Alive or Dead? by lemonsharks | T | 4,200 Words | Cot3 | No Warnings

The aftermath of Kensel Green. It takes them a while to get from the ambulance to breakfast table.

2. Old Sun, New Morning by hailqiqi | T | 4,096 Words | Locklyle (mentioned), Lockwood & George & Kipps | No Warnings

It would be nice to be a camp bed, probably. Camp beds didn’t get their plans and belief in reality ripped to shreds in a single night. They just sat on the floor, being too short but still strong enough to hold teenage boys. Unfortunately for Lockwood, his roommates wanted to talk.

3. So This is What it Feels Like to be Home by fastidious_and_a_mess | G | 3,936 Words | Georcy in the context of eventual Cot3 | No Warnings

Having had a frustratingly fruitless research session, George is deeply disappointed to find the kitchen empty of biscuits. Fortunately, they have everything they need to make their own. Unfortunately, Lucy's never baked in her life. Fortunately again, George is a pretty good teacher.

4. Just Before The Walls Come Down by WaitingForMyHogwartsLetter | T | 3,921 Words (Over 3 Chapters) | Pre-Cot3/Platonic Iron Trio (Can Be Read As Either) | No Warnings

Lockwood & Co, a quick study on the physical touch love language from different POVs.

5. Eye of the Beholder by cassiopeia_story | T | 3,661 Words | Locklyle | No Warnings

Lucy is fed up with Lockwood calling her beautiful.

[westwingsolo]

*ATTEMPTS to carry princess style* ISHWJDHDH

"I said I'm fiiiiinnneeee..."

Alex was not actually fine. He was drunk. As was his right, it was his birthday after all. He didn't want it to be a big deal though, just a get together with some friends.

Honestly, he just wanted to forget about Henry and the fact he wasn't going to be there.

So he drowned himself in shitty pop music and shittier vodka courtesy of Sonny getting him and a few of their friends a hotel suite to enjoy their night in.

At some point, Henry texted him a Happy Birthday and all he wanted was to call him and tell him how much he missed his face and his lips and his di...

"Sonny! No no, please oh Jesus fucking Christ how are you this strong?!" Alex hung on with all his might, wondering how the singer was able to just pluck him from the corner he was sulking in and throw him on the bed.

Once he stopped bouncing he glared up at Sonny, but then other people were jumping on the bed, handing him a bottle of champagne. He looked between the bottle and singer, who raised a brow and smiled at him with dimples.

Damn those dimples. They really were going to be the death of him.

"Fuck it..." And he took a long swig from the bottle as everyone cheered around him.

[lockwoodandcobigbang2023]

In regards to fic, the rules states the fic has to be new to public.

Does that also mean that the fic concept has to be like absolutely new (nobody knows about it beforehand)?

Because I was thinking of filling a form to do this and then for my fic, using a concept/ idea that I came up with a while ago and have vaguely sorta discussed with some people but haven't writing yet.

Is that okay? Is this a stupid question? I've never done one of these before.

Hi, thanks for your questions. No worries! When we say new to public, we mean that it hasn't been posted before, whether that be on ao3, tumblr, wattpad, etc. Discussing it previously is totally fine, I'm sure a lot of us have. We do ask that once people sign up, that they hold off sharing much about their fic with others participating so as to not make artist and cheerleader picking bias! Hope that makes sense. Feel free to ask more if you have any other questions or have any follow ups.

[w1redsmile]

🌿 from u know who

↳   *   𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙳   𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁   →      mistletoe   meme   [   no   longer   accepting   ]   ❣️

    it   was   still   early   on   in   the   night   ;   the   party   was   starting   to   calm   a   bit   but   was   definitely   still   𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈   𝙼𝚄𝙲𝙷   alive   as   suzie   finds   herself   tucked   off   away   from   all   of   the   comotion   for   the   time   being--   she   hadn't   expected   this   many   people   to   come   out   for   the   party   her   uncle   had   𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓾𝓵𝓼𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓵𝔂   decided   to   throw   &   then   disappear   from   (   had   ...   had   her   uncle   pulled   all   of   this   just   to   get   her   to   have   a   party   ??   now   that   she   was   thinking   about   it   ,   it   definitely   sounded   like   something   he   would   do   )   ,   &   her   anxiety   was   starting   to   get   the   better   of   her   with   the   large   crowd   ,   tucked   away   underneath   the   mistletoe   kevin   had   also   𝖘𝖑𝖞𝖑𝖞   set   up   in   this   situation   without   even   noticing   it   until   a   familiar   ,   lanky   frame   appeared   before   her--   smiling   as   emmett   captures   her   lips   in   a   gentle   kiss   ,   taking   her   hand   in   his   as   suzie   lets   out   a   content   hum   .   ❝   𝓶-𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂   𝓬𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼   ,   𝓫-𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂   .   ❞

[wiressmiled]

" shh... shh, honey, it's okay. the baby woke up, but i'm handling it. you just go back to sleep now, okay? " from emmett !

-   ̗̀   ♡⃗   ―   first   time   parent   prompts   !   (   accepting   )   ―   💌   :   ʳᵉᶜᶤᵉᵛᵉᵈ   ᶠʳᵒᵐ   /   𝓮𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓽   𝓶𝓾𝓷𝓻𝓸𝓮   (   @lovefell   )

-   ̗̀   ♡⃗   ―   she   could   hear   rosalie   down   the   hall   for   a   split   second—   she   was   rolling   over   to   get   up   ,   ˢʰᵉ   ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ   ʷᵃˢ   !   but   …   well      ,   she   must've   dozed   back   off   (   sleep   deprivation   was   𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙻   when   dealing   with   a   new   born   )   in   the   process   .   but   ,   it   couldn't   have   been   more   than   five   minutes   before   she   shook   herself   awake—   sitting   up   straight   away   in   her   𝖌𝖗𝖔𝖌𝖌𝖞   𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖊   ,   rubbing   the   sleep   from   doe   eyes   as   she   makes   her   way   down   the   hall   to   the   nursery   .   she's   caught   off   guard   slightly   to   find   emmett   already   there   ;   their   daughter   ᶰᵉˢᵗˡᵉᵈ   ᵈᵉˡᶤᶜᵃᵗᵉˡʸ   in   his   arms   as   he   feeds   her   (   she   hadn't   noticed   that   he   wasn't   still   in   bed   in   her   hazy   frame   of   mind   )   ;   she   can't   help   the   way   her   gaze   𝓼𝓸𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓼   at   the   sight—   it's   nearly   enough   to   bring   her   to   tears   as   she   feels   a   wide   smile   creep   onto   her   lips   as   he   tells   her   to   go   back   to   bed   .   

❝   i-is   she   alright   ?   i-i   don't   want   you   n-not   to   get   any   r-rest   …   i'm   still   on   maternity   leave   ;   i   don't   w-want   you   to   be   to   t-tired   for   work   in   the   morning   .   ❞   brows   knit   together   in   concern   as   she   walks   over   to   rest   her   head   against   his   shoulder   ;   smile   reappearing   as   she   peeks   down   at   the   tiny   infant   resting   against   his   chest   as   she   drinks   her   bottle   eagerly—   sleepy   eyes   fluttering   as   she   attempts   to   keep   herself   awake   ;   though   her   battle   is   in   vain   as   he   sways   back   &   forth   .   ❝   she   l-loves   when   you   r-rock   her   like   this   …❞

[we-lose-control-of-the-moment]

(@grabxyourxcrucifix) "Doesn’t this seem like a bit much?" Josh to any muse

✧ Sentence Starters ; The Grinch Who Stole Christmas - Novelization Edition

[ @grabxyourxcrucifix || Josh ]

[ Mike ]

"Much? Josh, what?"

For what it was worth, Mike actually looked offended for a second, his brows drawn in, lips parted, the beginnings of a scowl at the corners of his lips. A beat passed and he finally laughed breathlessly, shaking his head as he waved off the other's concern or... Well, whatever Josh was trying to get across to him.

"It's probably not enough, actually, buuuuuuut... You make do with what you have." Placing his palms together, fingers up, his hands tipped up in a mock prayer as he gazed at the ceiling of the rebuilt lodge.

Mike had never been the religious sort, but after what had happened just two years ago he'd changed his mind. If some of it wasn't horse shit, none of it was until he proved it wrong his damn self.

"What, you don't like it? Don't tell me I've put extra holes in my hands," Well, there was the smashed finger on his left hand, and a few new scrapes and cuts on both, "And fell off a ladder once because Duke saw a fucking rabbit and bolted for it... Just for you not to like this."

Maybe it was a shoddy apology. Okay, it was definitely a shoddy apology, but Mike had never been in touch with his feelings or the feelings of those around him. Josh's parents had helped fund the party that Mike had put together, and he'd put out a few invitations, but he had no guarantees that anyone was going to show. The last he'd heard, Matt had gone to see if Jessica thought she'd be able to handle coming back, and Chris had left him on read for the last week. Emily had flat-out refused, and Sam was out of the country, and Mike had conveniently 'forgotten' to invite Ashley.

There were too many sore spots there for that to work out well.

"We're waiting on whoever else is showing up, my phone's toast up here for more than a flashlight... But I... Well..." He frowned, finally dropping his hands at his sides. Wolfie's head pushed beneath one of them immediately, and he glanced down at the wolf to keep his eyes off of Josh, "...The banner speaks for itself."

Sorry I Almost Got You Killed (Or Worse)

[timbit-robin-art]

I saw your Mio doodle and now I wonder about a Light Music Club X-Men Edition.. Scott can be on drums he'd be so good at keeping time... whatever Ororo is on (because she'd slay at every instrument) she has to ALSO be on vocals because I believe that's just canon..

maybe Logan can be their roadie

Ah, K-On. My one weakness. I went a little overboard when picturing this, so whoops.

I imagine this being in a universe where there’s still mutants, but Xavier isn’t making them use their powers to fight. Instead, the institute is for learning how to control their powers/providing refuge for mutants who have nowhere else to go, and they go to a mutant/normal human mixed private school for normal education.

Here’s some of my ideas for the club members so far:

Ororo is the bass player and lead vocalist. She’s been inspired to be in a band ever since she lived on the streets as a little kid, where she saw a bass player performing live. Freshmen year of high school, she hears someone absolutely going ham on the drums, and finds Scott playing on his own. It took a while, but she finally convinced Scott to join her. She’s the heart and soul of the group, and main character along with Scott. I don’t see her living at the institute, though Xavier keeps the offer open. Instead, she may live with a 19/20 year old Gambit, who’s living off of the Guild’s money and trying to lay low.

Scott is the drum player. After Xavier picked him off of the streets, he got a bit lost in the mansion and discovered a drum set in the music room (I imagine it used to belong to Erik/Magnus). Xavier sees that the boy has natural rhythm, and decides to find him a teacher. Scott forms a middle school band with the O5, but they had a falling out, causing everyone to go their separate ways. However, Scott is still very passionate about the drums, which is why he eventually joins Ororo. He may be more pessimistic, but his passion for the drums is more than enough to keep him going.

Kurt is the pianist. He’s a transfer student from Germany and has always wanted to be a part of a band like Ororo. It was him that suggested the idea of forming an actual club, and he’s the big idealist/optimist of the group. I can see him not knowing too much on how to play piano, minus the basics he learned from his mother (she taught him how to play despite his three fingers), so when he moves into the institute, Xavier teaches him how to play better. Even though there are some people at school who treat him just as bad as the mobs from his home, he’s still willing to get out there and play with the group.

Hank is the guitarist. He used to be a part of the same group as Scott, but after everyone split a part, he stopped playing entirely. I can see him being intrigued by the talk of a “light music club,” but after seeing Scott was there, he wants nothing to do with it. Eventually, he joins a practice session after Ororo gets through to him, and he realizes just how much he misses playing. Scott and him have the friends-turned-hostile-turned-back-into-friends relationship. Unlike the other three O5 members, his love for music trumps any hostile feelings after the falling out, and he’s willing to give it another go.

Ah, but you can’t have a club without a faculty member as your sponsor;

Mr. Logan was the only available candidate for this. After a lot of begging (and promises that they’d wash his motorcycle every weekend), they eventually get him on board. He pretends to hate it, but it slowly becomes obvious that he has a soft spot for the group. He sees the passion they all have, and it reminds him of when he was younger (hmm… what if Logan was the bass player Ororo saw when she was younger…).

Of course, if we follow K-On, we must have a 5th member that joins later on. I have no idea who that could be. I think there’s a lot of fun ideas depending on who.

[thestreamweaver]

The two times Sabertooth was attacked by Storm are great!

First we got what was basically the "You're not doing this!" scene when she kept shooting him with Lightning...

Then there the scene Sabertooth had Wolverine floored and she was having NONE OF THAT!

Oh yes, the "GET OFF MY MAN!!!" Attitude that she had there was epic, and I love it! I wish they had an episode showing just how powerful she really is in Evolution, then as they said in an article they were "trying to portray a different more personal part of her to the audience" so I guess that's fair. I still think she should've gotten really pissed at someone who was bullying Logan and flung them out into space and somehow generated a black hole that swallowed them up so they ACTUALLY COULDN'T come back this time 😆😆😈

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Too big to care

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then PROVIDENCE (Apr 12), and beyond!

Remember the first time you used Google search? It was like magic. After years of progressively worsening search quality from Altavista and Yahoo, Google was literally stunning, a gateway to the very best things on the internet.

Today, Google has a 90% search market-share. They got it the hard way: they cheated. Google spends tens of billions of dollars on payola in order to ensure that they are the default search engine behind every search box you encounter on every device, every service and every website:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics

Not coincidentally, Google's search is getting progressively, monotonically worse. It is a cesspool of botshit, spam, scams, and nonsense. Important resources that I never bothered to bookmark because I could find them with a quick Google search no longer show up in the first ten screens of results:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Even after all that payola, Google is still absurdly profitable. They have so much money, they were able to do a $80 billion stock buyback. Just a few months later, Google fired 12,000 skilled technical workers. Essentially, Google is saying that they don't need to spend money on quality, because we're all locked into using Google search. It's cheaper to buy the default search box everywhere in the world than it is to make a product that is so good that even if we tried another search engine, we'd still prefer Google.

This is enshittification. Google is shifting value away from end users (searchers) and business customers (advertisers, publishers and merchants) to itself:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/05/the-map-is-not-the-territory/#apor-locksmith

And here's the thing: there are search engines out there that are so good that if you just try them, you'll get that same feeling you got the first time you tried Google.

When I was in Tucson last month on my book-tour for my new novel The Bezzle, I crashed with my pals Patrick and Teresa Nielsen Hayden. I've know them since I was a teenager (Patrick is my editor).

We were sitting in his living room on our laptops – just like old times! – and Patrick asked me if I'd tried Kagi, a new search-engine.

Teresa chimed in, extolling the advanced search features, the "lenses" that surfaced specific kinds of resources on the web.

I hadn't even heard of Kagi, but the Nielsen Haydens are among the most effective researchers I know – both in their professional editorial lives and in their many obsessive hobbies. If it was good enough for them…

I tried it. It was magic.

No, seriously. All those things Google couldn't find anymore? Top of the search pile. Queries that generated pages of spam in Google results? Fucking pristine on Kagi – the right answers, over and over again.

That was before I started playing with Kagi's lenses and other bells and whistles, which elevated the search experience from "magic" to sorcerous.

The catch is that Kagi costs money – after 100 queries, they want you to cough up $10/month ($14 for a couple or $20 for a family with up to six accounts, and some kid-specific features):

https://kagi.com/settings?p=billing_plan&plan=family

I immediately bought a family plan. I've been using it for a month. I've basically stopped using Google search altogether.

Kagi just let me get a lot more done, and I assumed that they were some kind of wildly capitalized startup that was running their own crawl and and their own data-centers. But this morning, I read Jason Koebler's 404 Media report on his own experiences using it:

https://www.404media.co/friendship-ended-with-google-now-kagi-is-my-best-friend/

Koebler's piece contained a key detail that I'd somehow missed:

When you search on Kagi, the service makes a series of “anonymized API calls to traditional search indexes like Google, Yandex, Mojeek, and Brave,” as well as a handful of other specialized search engines, Wikimedia Commons, Flickr, etc. Kagi then combines this with its own web index and news index (for news searches) to build the results pages that you see. So, essentially, you are getting some mix of Google search results combined with results from other indexes.

In other words: Kagi is a heavily customized, anonymized front-end to Google.

The implications of this are stunning. It means that Google's enshittified search-results are a choice. Those ad-strewn, sub-Altavista, spam-drowned search pages are a feature, not a bug. Google prefers those results to Kagi, because Google makes more money out of shit than they would out of delivering a good product:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/4/2/24117976/best-printer-2024-home-use-office-use-labels-school-homework

No wonder Google spends a whole-ass Twitter every year to make sure you never try a rival search engine. Bottom line: they ran the numbers and figured out their most profitable course of action is to enshittify their flagship product and bribe their "competitors" like Apple and Samsung so that you never try another search engine and have another one of those magic moments that sent all those Jeeves-askin' Yahooers to Google a quarter-century ago.

One of my favorite TV comedy bits is Lily Tomlin as Ernestine the AT&T operator; Tomlin would do these pitches for the Bell System and end every ad with "We don't care. We don't have to. We're the phone company":

https://snltranscripts.jt.org/76/76aphonecompany.phtml

Speaking of TV comedy: this week saw FTC chair Lina Khan appear on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. It was amazing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oaDTiWaYfcM

The coverage of Khan's appearance has focused on Stewart's revelation that when he was doing a show on Apple TV, the company prohibited him from interviewing her (presumably because of her hostility to tech monopolies):

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/apple-got-caught-censoring-its-own

But for me, the big moment came when Khan described tech monopolists as "too big to care."

What a phrase!

Since the subprime crisis, we're all familiar with businesses being "too big to fail" and "too big to jail." But "too big to care?" Oof, that got me right in the feels.

Because that's what it feels like to use enshittified Google. That's what it feels like to discover that Kagi – the good search engine – is mostly Google with the weights adjusted to serve users, not shareholders.

Google used to care. They cared because they were worried about competitors and regulators. They cared because their workers made them care:

https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2019/4/4/18295933/google-cancels-ai-ethics-board

Google doesn't care anymore. They don't have to. They're the search company.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

[urdreamydoodles]

X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

Your partner having to pause and tend to you because you burnt your finger while cooking (Part.1)

X-Men characters dropping everything to care for you after you accidentally burn your finger while cooking.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Rogue & Erik Lehnsherr

Logan (Wolverine):

- You’ve always insisted on cooking for Logan, despite his rugged exterior and tough-as-nails attitude. It’s your way of showing love, and he enjoys watching you work in the kitchen, though he tends to hover in the background, grumbling about doing all this “fancy stuff” when he could just throw some meat on the grill. Today, you’re preparing something special—his favorite—but as you’re chopping vegetables and tending to the stove, you accidentally brush your finger against a hot pan. A sharp sting runs through your hand.

- The hiss of pain that escapes your lips brings Logan over in an instant, faster than you expect given his usual laid-back demeanor. “What happened, darlin’?” he growls, his brows furrowing as his sharp eyes catch sight of the reddening skin on your finger. Before you can even answer, his hands are already gently cradling yours, his gruffness momentarily fading. You try to laugh it off, but he isn’t having it.

- “You’ve gotta be more careful,” he mutters, reaching over to the faucet to run your finger under cold water. His touch is surprisingly tender for someone who fights so fiercely, and you notice the way his rough hands contrast with the way he’s treating you now. It’s a side of Logan he doesn’t show often, one of quiet concern and care, though he tries to mask it behind his gruff words. His thumb traces over your skin as if double-checking that the burn isn’t worse than it seems.

- After a moment of silence, he grabs a first-aid kit from under the sink—something he’s way too familiar with—and wraps your finger carefully. “There,” he grunts, looking satisfied with his work. But instead of letting you go, Logan pulls you into him, holding you close with one arm around your waist. “Next time, you let me do the cooking,” he growls into your ear, though there’s a teasing softness in his voice. You roll your eyes but smile, knowing he’s just relieved you’re okay.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit):

- You’ve been cooking all afternoon, determined to surprise Remy with something homemade since he’s always the one who spoils you with candlelit dinners and sweet gestures. You’re working on a recipe you found online, and everything is going smoothly—until you accidentally touch the edge of a hot pan. The sting is sharp and immediate, and you curse under your breath, hoping he didn’t hear.

- But of course, Remy is in the kitchen within seconds, his heightened senses picking up on your distress. “Ah, chérie, what happened?” he asks, his voice dripping with that charming Cajun drawl. He moves closer, his red-on-black eyes narrowing with concern as he gently takes your hand in his. “You hurt yourself?” he purrs, inspecting your finger with a mix of concern and playful teasing.

- You try to shrug it off, but Remy isn’t having any of it. He moves with swift grace, grabbing a dish towel to wrap around your finger as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “You know, you’re too pretty to be messin’ with hot pans,” he smirks, his lips curving into that signature grin of his. Despite the lightness of his words, there’s a genuine tenderness in the way he’s handling you, his touch soft and reassuring.

- After cooling your finger under some water, he insists on kissing the small burn as if that will heal it faster. “There, all better,” he says with a wink, though he doesn’t let go of your hand just yet. Remy steps closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “How ‘bout I finish up in here, mon amour, and you take a lil’ break, hmm?” His voice is low and sultry, making it hard to refuse. Before you know it, he’s guiding you to sit at the kitchen table, a playful glint in his eyes as he takes over the cooking—though you know he’ll still have time to sneak in a flirtatious glance your way every few minutes.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler):

- You’re standing at the stove, focused on making Kurt’s favorite dish—something you’ve wanted to surprise him with all week. He’s been busy with missions lately, so you thought a home-cooked meal would be the perfect way to show him how much you appreciate him. But as you’re flipping something in the pan, your hand slips, and your finger briefly touches the hot metal. The sudden sting makes you yelp.

- In an instant, there’s a flash of blue, and Kurt appears at your side in a puff of sulfur-scented smoke, teleporting into the room the moment he hears you. “Liebes, are you hurt?” His bright yellow eyes widen with concern as he reaches for your hand, inspecting the burn. His touch is gentle, his fingers brushing over your skin like you’re made of porcelain. You can see the worry etched on his face, and it tugs at your heart.

- “It’s nothing,” you try to reassure him, but Kurt shakes his head, clicking his tongue softly. “Nein, even a small injury is too much for someone as precious as you.” His tail curls protectively around your waist, pulling you closer as he turns on the faucet and guides your hand under the cool water. The sensation is soothing, but more than that, it’s Kurt’s presence that calms you—his soft murmurs of reassurance, the way he leans in close, his concern for you palpable.

- Once he’s sure your burn is taken care of, Kurt teleports again, this time returning with a small bandage. “Just to be safe,” he insists, carefully wrapping your finger. His warm, affectionate nature shines through as he finishes, then presses a soft kiss to your hand. “You do so much for me, mein Schatz, but please let me help next time, ja?” His words are earnest, and his golden eyes glow with love. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his tail wrapping around your legs. “No more injuries. I need you safe,” he whispers, kissing your cheek softly before teleporting to finish cooking for you.

Scott Summers (Cyclops):

- You’re midway through cooking dinner when you feel a sudden sharp burn on your finger as you brush against a hot pan. Wincing, you step back from the stove, but before you can react further, Scott is already by your side. He must have heard your quiet hiss of pain from the other room. “Hey, what happened?” His voice is laced with concern, his eyes hidden behind his ever-present ruby-quartz glasses, but you can feel the intensity of his focus on you.

- Scott is always serious when it comes to your well-being, and it’s no different now. He gently takes your hand, leading you to the sink as he turns on the cold water. “You need to be more careful,” he says, his tone stern but not unkind. He’s always the logical one, quick to act in any situation, but there’s a softness in the way he holds your hand, ensuring the water soothes the burn.

- “I’m fine, Scott,” you try to reassure him, but he doesn’t seem convinced. He grabs a small first-aid kit from the nearby cabinet, carefully dabbing ointment on your burn before wrapping it with a bandage. “You’re always taking care of everyone else,” he murmurs, his hands steady but gentle. “But you need to let someone take care of you sometimes.” There’s a weight behind his words, a reflection of how much he shoulders as the leader of the X-Men, but in this moment, he’s only focused on you.

- Once your finger is properly bandaged, Scott gives your hand a gentle squeeze. His expression softens as he looks at you, and though his glasses hide his eyes, you know there’s a deep affection behind them. “I’ll finish up dinner,” he offers, though it’s less of a suggestion and more of a decision. Scott is always the one to step in when things go wrong, and even though it’s a small burn, his protective instincts kick in. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment. “Next time, I’m staying in the kitchen with you,” he says with a small smile, his hand resting at the small of your back as he takes over the cooking.

Jean Grey:

- You’ve been busy in the kitchen all day, determined to make Jean’s favorite dish, and the aroma of the food fills the air. She’s sitting at the dining table, flipping through a magazine, occasionally looking up with a smile to watch you work. As you move the pan, your hand brushes against the hot metal, and the sudden pain makes you gasp. Before you can even call out, Jean is by your side, her telepathic link with you immediately picking up on your discomfort.

- “Oh no, let me see,” Jean says softly, already taking your hand in hers. Her green eyes are filled with concern as she inspects the burn, and though she’s usually calm and collected, you can tell she’s worried. With a wave of her hand, she uses her telekinesis to turn off the stove while guiding you to the sink.

- “You don’t need to push yourself so hard, Y/N,” she murmurs as she runs your hand under cold water. There’s a warmth in her voice, a quiet reassurance that makes you feel instantly better. Jean’s care is always gentle but firm, and as she tends to your burn, she smiles softly at you. “I know you want to take care of me, but it’s okay to let me take care of you too.”

- She moves her hand to your forehead, her touch cooling the heat of your skin as she uses a tiny bit of her telekinesis to ease the sting of the burn. Once she’s satisfied that the pain is manageable, Jean pulls you into a tender hug. “How about I help with dinner, and we finish this together?” she suggests, her voice filled with love. You know she’s only suggesting it so she can keep an eye on you, but you don’t mind. With Jean, everything feels safe and warm, even a simple evening in the kitchen.

Ororo Munroe (Storm):

- You love the sound of rain, and today it’s pouring outside as you stand in the kitchen, preparing a cozy meal for you and Ororo. She’s outside on the porch, enjoying the weather she summoned, the gentle rhythm of raindrops creating a peaceful backdrop. You’re lost in thought when you accidentally touch the edge of the hot pan, and the sharp pain makes you flinch, biting your lip to stifle a yelp.

- In an instant, Ororo is there, moving gracefully as she rushes to your side. “What happened?” she asks, her voice soft and soothing, like the rain outside. Her bright blue eyes are full of concern as she gently takes your hand in hers, examining the burn. Even with the storm raging outside, Ororo’s presence brings an immediate sense of calm.

- “Let me see,” she whispers, her fingers lightly brushing over your skin. The cool breeze from outside seems to follow her as she guides you to the sink, running your finger under cold water. You can feel the faintest touch of her powers as the air around you cools, helping to soothe the burn. Ororo is always so in control, her calm demeanor making you feel safe even in moments like this.

- “You must be more careful, my love,” she says, her tone gentle but firm. She reaches for a towel, patting your hand dry before wrapping a small bandage around your finger. As she tends to you, Ororo’s touch is filled with affection, her concern for you evident in every movement. She presses a soft kiss to your forehead, her lips cool and comforting. “How about we enjoy the rain together while I finish up here?” she offers, her smile radiant despite the storm. You nod, feeling grateful for her constant care and love.

Rogue:

- You’ve always loved cooking with Rogue. She’s a little clumsy in the kitchen, but her enthusiasm makes up for it. Tonight, though, you’ve taken over the cooking while she watches, leaning against the counter and making playful comments. You’re just about done when your hand slips, brushing against the hot pan. The sharp pain makes you wince, and Rogue’s eyes widen immediately.

- “Oh, sugar, what did ya do?” she asks, rushing over with concern written all over her face. She’s always so protective of you, and the moment she sees your burnt finger, she’s already grabbing a cold cloth to press against it. Rogue may have a tough exterior, but when it comes to you, she’s as gentle as can be.

- “Ya gotta be more careful,” she scolds softly, her Southern drawl filled with worry as she holds your hand. She doesn’t use her powers much when you’re together, but she treats you like you’re the most fragile thing in the world. “Ah don’t wanna see ya hurt, not even a lil’ bit.” Her gloved hands are always so careful with you, and even though she can’t touch you skin to skin, you feel her love in every gesture.

- Rogue pulls you in close, her arms wrapping around you protectively. “How ‘bout we order takeout next time, huh?” she suggests with a small grin, her lips brushing lightly against your cheek. You can’t help but laugh at how serious she’s being over a small burn, but that’s just how Rogue is—always looking out for you. “Now come on, let me finish up here,” she insists, making sure you sit down while she handles the rest. Even though she’s a little clumsy, you know she’ll do anything to make sure you’re taken care of.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto):

- Cooking with Erik is always an interesting experience. He’s meticulous and precise, just like in everything he does, and tonight you’re both working together on dinner. You’ve just pulled a pan off the stove when your hand brushes against it, and the sharp sting makes you wince. Erik’s attention is immediately drawn to you, his eyes narrowing in concern.

- “Y/N, are you alright?” His voice is calm, but there’s a clear edge of worry as he steps closer, his hand already reaching for yours. You try to brush it off, but Erik isn’t one to let things slide. He carefully takes your hand in his, inspecting the small burn with a frown. “You need to be more cautious,” he murmurs, his tone a mixture of concern and reprimand.

- With a flick of his fingers, he uses his powers to bring a cold cloth over to you, pressing it gently against your burn. Erik is always so in control, even in small moments like this, and you can feel his intensity as he tends to you. He doesn’t say much, but the way he cradles your hand speaks volumes about how much he cares. Despite his stern exterior, Erik is always careful with you, his actions filled with quiet affection.

- “There,” he says after a moment, satisfied that the burn isn’t too serious. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Next time, let me handle the stove,” he adds, his voice softening as he presses a kiss to your temple. Erik may be a master of control and power, but with you, he’s always gentle. “You’re too important to me to risk getting hurt over something as trivial as this.” He holds you for a moment longer before guiding you to sit, insisting that he finish up dinner while you rest.

[candiehearts]

You Are Were Everything

Paring: Scott Summers X F!Reader

Summary: Scott Summers was your happy ending, but it was not ever after. He was everything good in your life, and when you were met with a choice — you chose the easier option. Vengeance, hate, and self destruction.

Navigation — Other works!, Scott Summers M.List

Warnings: Mentions of Death, & Angst.

Taglist: Just ask to be added.

A/N: “Red” by Taylor Swift , If people want I’ll make PT2

“Mommy, are you and daddy in love?” You ask your mom, you’re small hands wrapping around hers while she bathed you. She poured water on you, rinsing you off. “Yes, why do you ask?” You took a moment to think before answering her question.

“Do you think anyone could love me like daddy loves you? Even though I’m different?” YOur mothers heart broke at the self doubt in your voice. You were just a little kid, and you shouldn't question whether or not you were lovable. However, that's the world you live in. “Baby, one day you are going to find someone who will love you like breathing air. And you will love them just the same, because despite your powers you are still human, and all humans love.”

—

That person was Scott Summers. The man you loved breathing. You met him when Charles Xavier offered you a teaching position at his school, and a spot on his team of X-Men. He was the first man besides your father that you truly felt loved by. It was pure and deep love that both of you felt.

—

“Scott, it's late, we shouldn't go out.” I looked around nervous that someone would see us while Scott started up his bike. “Live a little,” he offered me his hand and with that smile on his face I couldn’t say no. I hopped on, and held on tightly as he sped up the bike, laughing and loving the feeling of the wind. Maybe this was the moment I started to like him.

—

I popped my neck, sighing at the feeling of the pressure being released. I was with Raven, walking through the doors of the president's office. The man had sent Erik an invitation to try and make peace with him and any other mutants that had problems against him and his people. God, what a waste of time. Magneto sent us to decline his offer, something he could do himself.

I took a look at the president until my focus shifted to the other people in the room. Charles Xavier, the mind reader. Jean Grey, the professor's apprentice. Ororo Munroe, the badass with storm abilities. The newest member of their boyband, the wolverine.

Finally, Scott Summers.

—

“Looking for something to eat?” My gaze snapped to the man leaning on the door frame of the kitchen. The hour was late, and only me and a few other kids were awake, Well them, me, and apparently Scott. “Looking for an actual drink.”

I was restless all night, and it seems he caught on. “Come with me, I have a fridge in my room.” I gave a breath of relief before following him. A comfortable silence between us.

I closed his door, not wanting anyone to see us, while he grabbed two beer bottles and an opener. “Wanna talk about it?” No, not to him. I couldn’t tell him that he was haunting my dreams.

“Just been anxious recently. What about you?” He took a sip, and looked to be thinking. Deciding on whether or not to tell me. An answer I waited patiently for.

He placed his beer on his bedside table, before grabbing mine and doing the same. Before I could ask what he was doing he flipped off his lamp, letting darkness fill the room. Only the moon that passed the curtains showcasing our faces.

“I’d feel better doing this in the dark, in case it doesn't go the way I want it too.”

“In case what doesn't –” My voice was cut off with his lips. He was kissing me so softly, and it was everything I imagined and more. The way his hand gently held my face, the way I held his hands and kissed him back. The way he pulled away and whispered, “I love you.” Or the way I whispered the same way words back.

—

I looked away from him, closing my eyes as unwanted memories came rushing in. Seeing him hurt. It ached. “We're here on behalf of magneto. He wishes to decline your request for peace.” The president sighed, almost regretfully, causing me to be more alert of the way some guards grabbed onto their guns.

“I was hoping that wouldn’t be the case. You see I don’t want a war, but I will protect my people no matter the cost.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. His people, what a fucking joke.

—

“I’m sorry I can’t come with you.” I gave Scott a kiss, dismissing his worries. “It’s okay red. Go help that kid.” He gave me another kiss before handing me his keys.

“Take my car.” I took a hold of him, giving him a final hug before he made his way to the ship. Me and Scott were supposed to visit my parents today, but a little kid – a mutant – needed help and Charles asked Scott to go and get him.

I drove out of the school, watching as the jet flew above the clouds. My parents loved Scott so I’m sure they would be upset he won’t be with me, but he promised to come before the weekend was over. So I wasn’t too worried.

When I did finally get to my parents house all the lights were off, and it was raining. Maybe the power was out. I pushed the key into the house and made my way in. Finding it empty with my parents not inside.

“Mom! Dad! I’m home. You’re gonna hate it but Scott isn’t with me.” I flipped on the living room light, and the patio lights as well. It was dark, but once the light flickered on I had a perfect view of the back yard.

I dropped my keys, my heart pounding in my ears. I pushed the doors open rushing out where two bodies laid. Dead.

“No no no no no no. Daddy?” I felt my heart shatter, and my tears fall as I tried to pick up my dad. He wouldn’t move, why wasn’t he moving? “Daddy? It’s me. It’s your little girl.” I kissed his cheek, praying to whatever lord there was for my dad to wake up.

Thunder struck and the light gave me a better view of my mother. Blood was all over her

clothes, and her eyes were open – but dead. “Mommy?” My voice cracked. I pulled her over to me and my dad, holding them both in my arms.

“Please, please, wake up. I need you both. I need my mommy and daddy. Please. Somebody help me.” My voice faded into a broken whisper. “Somebody help me.”

“It was the police.” I snapped my blurry gaze to the voice. Erik. The professor would talk about him. “I found this inside the woman's hand.” I reached for the paper handed out to me. It was my mother’s hand writing.

‘The police has been harassing us about you and the school you teach. Me and your father wish not to worry you, but if you read this then we're probably dead. I love you so much, me and your dad love you more than trees love water. You're a little girl, and though we may be gone physically we will always be with you. In your heart. Your father is so proud of you, as am I. Surprisingly your father has been talking to me about when you are getting married. For the first time your father thinks a boy is right for you. I love you so much, and I’m sorry we couldn’t stick around longer.’

My heart stopped as I re-read her letter. A tear falling onto the paper and wetting it. At this moment I felt my heart turn cold. I slowly looked to Erik, “I want the officers that did this.” I am going to kill them.

–

“Your people? My parents were your people, I was your people. Even the people at Xaviers school are your people. You singled them out – you know what's even funnier?” I forced the guards to be pinned to the wall, dark gray energy forcing them to stay there. “My parents were ‘normal’, you just killed them because they birthed a mutant.

“I command you to stay down, as your president I am commanding you to drop my men. Or else.” I pushed his chest, flying him to be pinned to the wall next.

“Or else what? Listening you talk has been torture enough.”

“Y/N, listen to me. Stand down. Don’t do this in front of Scott.”

I paused, slowly looking at the professor then at him. I released the people, watching cyclops release a breath.

I hated that no matter how much I try – he’s always the one pulling me back. I needed him gone. Erased from my mind.

“You don’t know what you're asking. Scott is the only thing that’s keeping your humanity in check.”

The problem is, I don’t think I can live a second longer knowing the life I used to have. Knowing I use to have him, and now I’m just one of his villains. Not the love of his life.

I’ll leave Erik behind. You can even tell me that you erased a part of my life, and that leaving Erik was a part of the deal. Just help me Charles. I need help, I’m in too much pain.

Raven passed out and dropped to the floor, as well as everyone else but me and Charles. I walked over to his chair and crouched down low for him. His hand went beside my head, not touching but I could feel him snooping in my brain. I saw his eyes tear up before he spoke.

“You are lost, and one day you will find your way again.”

Flashes of my life with Scott passed through my mind. Waking up with him, going on drives, missions, getting dinner. Every laugh, every kiss, every ‘I love you’. And eventually it all went black.

Charles pulled away from me, and then he asked me a question I didn’t know the answer to.

“Who is Scott Summers?”

My chest ached at the name, and I couldn’t figure out why. “I have no idea who you're talking about.” I stood up straight, and started to walk towards the door, knowing I’m missing something.

My feet stopped at a person laying on the ground unconscious. I leaned down to him, brushing a piece of hair out his face.

“Do you know this person.”

I couldn’t place his face anywhere, but my body recognized the feel of his lips as I traced them.

“No.”

I stood up again, “Thank you professor.” He nodded at me, and his voice echoed in my head as I walked out.

“I’ll see you soon.”

—

© CandieHearts

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

Chains of Destiny - Eva (Ch.1)

Summary: X-men including Logan, are being sent to retrieve a young mutant woman from a experiment facility. However, not everything goes as planned.

Content Warning: mean Logan, like he's actually a jerk here. Hurt, pain, angst (hell a lot of it), mentions of torture, experiments, violence, mentiones of suicide/wanting to die,

Author's note: So I actually planned on this series for a while. Not gonna lie Deadpool and Wolverine gave me a bit of a push to finally publish this series. Keep in mind that this does not take place during Deadpool 3 timeline. This series will have lots of angst so brace yourselves and I really hope you will all love it the same way I love writing it ❤️

Word count: 8 326

The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of technology from the giant monitor hanging on the wall. Around the long, metallic table sat the core members of the X-Men—Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Jean Grey, Hank McCoy, and Logan, who sat at the far end, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed as he stared at the screen.

Charles Xavier sat at the head of the table, his hands folded in front of him. The image on the screen showed a grainy surveillance feed from the inside of the lab they were about to raid. It was dark, but even through the low-quality footage, they could see her—Eva. Curled up in a glass cell, arms wrapped around her knees, staring blankly ahead. Her small frame seemed fragile, but the readings from Cerebro painted a different picture entirely.

“She’s been in there for years,” Charles began, his voice calm and measured. “A captive, used as an experiment by a faction of scientists attempting to create new, enhanced mutants.”

Jean’s brow furrowed, her eyes full of concern. “They’ve been adding mutations to her, manipulating her DNA. That’s… unethical doesn’t even begin to describe it. How has she survived this long?”

“Barely,” Charles answered softly. “She’s had to endure unimaginable pain. Not just from the mutations, but from the emotional and psychological torment. One of her powers allows her to absorb the pain and injuries of others, healing them at her own expense. But it’s more than that. It’s not just physical. She absorbs their emotional damage too. She’s a living conduit for others’ suffering.”

Ororo closed her eyes for a moment, her voice thick with empathy. “No one should have to endure that. We have to help her.”

Scott nodded. “She’s a mutant, and she’s in danger. That makes it our responsibility to get her out of there.” 

Logan leaned forward in his chair, his face twisting into a scowl. “Hold on a second.” His voice was rough, laced with irritation. “You’ve read her file, Chuck. You know what she’s capable of. That kind of power? You really think it’s a good idea to bring her here? She’s a damn walking nuke. You touch her, and she’s in your head, messing with your emotions, maybe worse. That’s if she doesn’t blast you halfway across the room with her force repulsion or whatever the hell it is.”

Jean glanced at Logan, her brow creasing with concern. “She’s been through hell, Logan. She didn’t ask for any of this.”

“I get that,” Logan shot back, his voice sharp, “but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s dangerous. You saw what happened in the last raid when we tried to bring in that mutant with the volatile powers. He almost brought the whole damn building down.”

“Eva isn’t a threat by choice,” Charles interjected, his tone steady, though there was a quiet firmness to it. “She’s been conditioned, pushed to her limits. The trauma she’s endured has caused her to lose control. But she is not beyond saving.”

Logan leaned back in his chair, a growl rumbling low in his throat. “That’s the thing, though, ain’t it? Control. She’s got none. We storm that lab, and she could go off on us just like that,” he snapped his fingers, “and you know it. You’re askin’ us to walk into a situation where we don’t know if we’ll be able to handle her if she flips out.”

“Her powers make her volatile, yes,” Hank spoke up, his deep, thoughtful voice cutting through the tension. “But we’ve faced dangerous powers before. If we don’t act, she will continue to suffer. And from the looks of this lab, it’s only a matter of time before they push her to the breaking point. We have to try.”

“Try?” Logan scoffed. “What if trying gets us killed? Or worse—what if she turns into something none of us can handle?” 

Scott, who had been quiet until now, leaned forward, his gaze locking onto Logan. “We know the risks. But that doesn’t change our mission. We don’t abandon our own, especially not someone who’s been tortured like this.”

“Yeah, well, maybe this time we should think about it,” Logan muttered, his eyes narrowing. “She’s not one of us. Not yet. We don’t even know who she is.” 

“Logan.” Jean’s voice was soft but firm, a note of understanding in it. “You know better than anyone what it’s like to be taken and turned into something against your will.” 

Her words hung in the air like a weight, and for a moment, Logan’s scowl deepened. His hands clenched into fists, his claws threatening to extend. He hated being reminded of what had been done to him—of the experiments, the torture, the mind games that had turned him into a weapon. He’d spent years fighting to control the rage, to stop himself from becoming the monster they tried to make him. 

But this girl… she was different. She wasn’t like him. She wasn’t hardened by battle, wasn’t tempered by a lifetime of violence. She was a raw nerve, and in Logan’s mind, that made her more dangerous than any enemy they’d faced.

“She’s not ready for this world,” Logan said, his voice lower now, but no less intense. “She’s not ready for what happens if she loses it. And we sure as hell ain’t ready for her.” 

Charles met Logan’s gaze evenly, unflinching. “I understand your hesitation, Logan. Truly. But this girl needs us. She’s been used and discarded, treated as nothing more than an experiment. If we don’t intervene, she’ll die in that lab. And if we leave her there, she may very well become the very thing you fear—a weapon. But if we bring her here, if we can reach her, she has a chance at something more. A chance to be more than what they’ve tried to make her.”

Logan grunted, looking away. He could feel the weight of the room’s eyes on him, but it didn’t change the knot of unease twisting in his gut. He didn’t trust this situation. Something about it felt wrong, and his instincts were screaming at him to walk away.

But the problem was, he couldn’t. No matter how much he wanted to turn his back, he couldn’t ignore the part of him that remembered what it was like to be the one trapped, the one without control.

Finally, after a long pause, Logan let out a rough sigh. “Fine. We go in, we get her out. But don’t expect me to play nice if she goes feral.”

Charles nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you, Logan. We’ll do everything we can to make sure it doesn’t come to that.”

Logan stood up from his chair, cracking his neck as he moved toward the door. “Yeah, well, let’s just hope I don’t end up regrettin’ this.”

As Logan stalked out of the room, Ororo exchanged a glance with Scott, who sighed softly. “He’ll come around,” Scott said, though there was an edge of uncertainty in his voice.

“He always does,” Jean murmured, watching the door where Logan had disappeared. “Eventually.”

Charles sat back in his chair, his gaze drifting to the image of Eva on the screen once again. Her small, frail figure was a stark contrast to the power that resided within her.

“She will need time,” he said softly, more to himself than anyone else. “But I believe in her potential. She is more than what they’ve tried to make her.”

And with that, the plan was set. They were going to get Eva out of that lab. Whether or not she could ever be truly free from what had been done to her, though, was another question entirely.

*** 

They needed to act quickly. No one was here for now, but they didn’t when they would be back.

The sharp scent of antiseptic and cold metal filled the underground lab, the walls lined with sterile, reflective surfaces that amplified the clinical horror of the place. Logan led the way. His claws twitched within his knuckles, ready to spring at any moment. Behind him, Storm, Jean and Cyclops moved in silence, their eyes scanning the corridor for any threats. They had heard rumors of this lab—where scientists experimented on mutants—but nothing had prepared them for the twisted reality.

Then Logan's senses sharpened.

"She's close," he growled, his voice barely a whisper, yet thick with urgency.

The lab was dimly lit, sterile, and cold. The sharp scent of chemicals hung in the air, mixed with something darker—something that stank of pain and fear. The X-Men moved quietly, their boots silent against the sleek metal floors. 

“Chuck better be damn sure about this one,” he muttered under his breath, his fists clenched tight. “I ain’t buyin’ this ‘save the girl’ crap.”

Jean turned her head slightly, giving Logan a sharp look. “You know she didn’t choose this, Logan. She’s a victim.”

“Yeah? You tellin’ me she’s not dangerous?” Logan’s voice was a low growl, tinged with irritation. “Because I’ve seen plenty of ‘victims’ go off and take half a town with ‘em.”

“She’s a kid,” Storm cut in, her voice firm but calm. “She’s been tortured. She needs help.”

Logan rolled his eyes, his claws itching to come out. This whole mission felt wrong to him. Saving people? Fine. But saving a mutant who could, at any second, go berserk and tear them all apart? Not so fine.

“You’re all thinkin’ with your hearts,” he muttered, his tone harsh. “And that’s a good way to get us all killed. Just sayin’.”

Cyclops shot him a look, his jaw tightening. “We’re here to help her, Logan. If you can’t handle that, maybe you should’ve stayed at the mansion.”

Logan sneered, his lip curling. “Maybe I shoulda.”

But he didn’t. Despite every instinct telling him to turn around and walk away, he came along. Part of him didn’t know why. Maybe it was the way Charles had looked at him, that quiet conviction in his voice when he said, “She needs us, Logan.”

Logan had heard those words before. He’d been the one who needed saving once. And yeah, he’d been dangerous too. But it didn’t mean he had to like this mission—or trust this girl.

They rounded a corner and found a room that reeked of fear. Through a cracked glass wall, Logan saw her—huddled in the corner, shackled to a metal chair. Her appearance was fragile, like a broken bird too wounded to fly. Tangled hair fell over her face, and her body seemed emaciated, but the air around her pulsed with something dangerous. 

Logan’s stomach tightened as he looked at her. She was small, fragile-looking, her eyes hollow, like she hadn’t seen anything good in a long time. But that wasn’t what set him on edge. No, it was the raw power he could feel rolling off her in waves, even though the thick glass. She was a bomb. One wrong move, and she’d go off.

“Let’s get her out of there,” Cyclops said, moving toward the controls.

Logan bristled, stepping forward. “Wait. What’s the plan here, huh? We just let her loose, hope she’s all sunshine and rainbows?”

 “Logan,” Jean said, her voice steady, “we can calm her down. She’s scared. She’s not going to hurt us.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the last guy who thought he had a handle on a mutant with no control.” Logan’s voice was hard, his eyes narrowed. “That guy ended up in pieces.”

Cyclops sighed, clearly losing patience. “Logan, we didn’t come here to debate this. We came here to get her out. Stand aside.”

Logan didn’t move, his eyes locked on the girl. Something in his gut twisted, but he shoved it aside. “Fine,” he muttered. “But when this goes sideways, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

The glass door slid open with a low hiss, and for a moment, nothing happened. Eva didn’t move, didn’t even look up. She was still, like an animal caught in a trap, waiting for something worse to happen.

Jean stepped forward, her voice gentle. “Eva? We’re here to help you. It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Logan snorted under his breath. Safe. Yeah, right.

Storm moved forward. "We’re here to help," she said gently, trying to project calm through her voice. Her hand moved to the console, disengaging the restraints that held the girl. The moment the locks clicked open, the girl lifted her head.

At first, Eva didn’t respond. But then her eyes flicked up, and Logan saw it—the fear, the confusion. And beneath it, a barely contained surge of raw, unchecked power..

Before anyone could say a word, Eva’s body tensed, and Logan’s instincts screamed at him. Something snapped inside her, a ripple of energy that exploded outward.

“Shit!” Logan barely had time to react before the force hit him, slamming into his chest like a freight train and sending him flying back into the wall with a grunt. The others were thrown back as well, but Jean managed to hold up a telekinetic shield just in time to soften the blow.

Logan hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him. His head spun as he pushed himself up, his vision blurry for a moment. “Goddamn it,” he snarled.

Cyclops struggled to his feet, his visor sparking. “Jean, calm her down, now!”

“I’m trying!” Jean said, her voice strained as she reached out mentally, but Eva’s panic was overwhelming. The raw emotions she absorbed from the team—fear, frustration, Logan’s anger—were feeding her powers, making them spiral out of control.

Logan gritted his teeth, claws snapping out instinctively. His healing factor allowed him to push through the pain, but it didn’t stop the girl’s attack. The forcefield around her shimmered, pulsating with her terror. She backed into a corner, eyes wide with an animalistic rage, and her breathing was ragged, panicked.

Logan got back on his feet, his body aching from the impact, but he was pissed now. “This is what I’m talkin’ about!” he growled, stalking forward, his claws gleaming. “You can’t control her!” 

Eva’s eyes darted wildly, her chest heaving as waves of energy pulsed off her, distorting the air around her. Her hands trembled, her face twisted in terror. She was completely out of control, her powers lashing out blindly.

"Stay back!" she screamed. "I don’t—don’t come near me!"

Logan pushed himself up, panting. "We’re not here to hurt ya, kid," he said, voice gruff but calmer than before, trying to anchor her in the chaos of her mind. But her eyes had already glazed over—she was lost to the overwhelming storm inside her.

“Eva!” Jean called, her voice soothing but desperate. “Please, you need to stop!” 

But it was no use. Eva couldn’t hear her over the roar of her own panic. 

Logan moved in, fast and low, dodging another pulse of energy that nearly sent him sprawling. His patience was shot, his temper flaring hot. He’d warned them. He’d told them this was a bad idea. And now this girl was about to bring the whole lab down on top of them. 

“Enough of this!” Logan snarled, charging at her with his claws raised. 

Eva’s eyes snapped to him, her panic morphing into raw fear, and without thinking, she thrust her hands out. A blast of energy hit Logan square in the chest, sending him flying back again, slamming into a steel pillar with a bone-rattling crash.

“Dammit!” Logan spat, coughing as he got back to his feet, his ribs screaming in protest. His vision blurred for a second, rage bubbling inside him. “I told you!” he shouted at Cyclops, who was trying to keep his balance. “I told you this was a bad idea!”

Eva staggered back, her body trembling violently. She looked at Logan with wide, terrified eyes, realizing what she’d done. She hadn’t meant to. She didn’t want to hurt him. But the damage was done.

Logan’s gaze locked on hers, filled with fury and mistrust. “You’re gonna kill us all, kid,” he growled, his voice rough, dripping with venom.

“Logan, stop!” Jean shouted, stepping between them. “You’re making it worse!”

“Worse? You think it can get worse than this?” Logan barked, his eyes blazing with anger. “She’s a loose cannon, and you’re all actin’ like she’s some poor helpless kid. She’s not! She’s a damn weapon!” 

Eva’s breath hitched, her vision blurring as tears welled up in her eyes. She wasn’t a weapon. She wasn’t a monster. But that’s all they saw, wasn’t it? That’s all she’d ever be to anyone. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to—” 

“Yeah?” Logan’s voice was sharp, cutting into her like a knife. “Well, you did.” 

Before Eva could respond, Storm stepped forward, her voice calm but commanding. “Logan, enough.” 

Logan’s scowl deepened, but he backed off, his claws retracting with a sharp snikt. He shot an angry glare at Eva, his eyes filled with mistrust. “If you can’t control yourself, you don’t belong out here.” 

Eva’s heart clenched, her body trembling as she took a step back. The pain in Logan’s words cut deeper than any wound. She didn’t want to be this way. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. But all she ever seemed to do was cause more pain.

A tidal wave of agony and fear threatened to consume her. Haunting recollections of torment, of relentless experimentation, surged through the maze of her mind. The harsh utterances of the man had become a ceaseless refrain since her arrival here. She was reduced to nothing more than an implement of warfare, forged for the benefit of others. Her emotions, her own inner turmoil, were inconsequential. She was bereft of care or compassion. 

Tears welled up in her eyes, a dam of pent-up emotion threatening to break. The potency of his words was such that it cleaved her to the quick, opening fresh wounds and exposing deeply buried insecurities in her already scarred heart. He needed to grasp the truth, he needed to comprehend the reality of her existence: she was no monster.  

Her presence here was not a matter of choice, but rather of necessity.

Without warning, she lunged at him. Her hand made contact with his arm, and suddenly, a flood of raw emotions poured into him. Fear. Pain. Desperation. The weight of all the suffering she had endured hit Logan like a punch to the gut. His mind reeled as her powers synced with his, letting him feel what she felt.  

The room distorted around him—her memories blurring into his thoughts. Logan saw flashes: needles piercing her skin, the cold, merciless faces of scientists, the endless nights spent in isolation. Every ounce of agony and torture she’d endured slammed into him, nearly buckling his knees. 

"Get out of my head!" Logan snarled, shaking her off. But it was too late—her power had taken hold, binding their emotions together like a knot. 

"Logan!" Cyclops shouted, firing a quick burst from his optic blast. The force knocked her back, but only momentarily. The girl screamed again, and this time her forcefield flared with blinding intensity, hurling them all across the room. 

Storm shot into the air, lightning crackling around her as she tried to contain the energy swirling around the girl. "We have to neutralize her, Logan—she can’t control it!" 

"I know!" he barked, struggling to regain his balance as another pulse of energy sent a chair crashing into the wall. His claws slid back into place. He could see it in the girl’s eyes—she wasn’t attacking them out of malice. It was terror. Pure, unbridled terror. But it didn’t matter. Right now, she was a threat. 

Logan moved toward her again, determined this time. "Listen, kid," he growled, "I know what they did to you. But we’re not them. You’ve gotta stop—" 

She didn’t. Her hand shot up, and suddenly Logan was on the floor, his ribs burning as her force slammed him again. But this time, before she could do more damage, a blinding streak of light shot through the air. Cyclops’ blast hit her square in the chest, knocking her unconscious. Her body crumpled, and the forcefield flickered out. 

The room fell silent. 

Logan dragged himself to his feet, clutching his side. "Dammit," he muttered under his breath, shaking the lingering disorientation from his head. 

Storm knelt beside the unconscious girl, her expression a mix of sympathy and concern. "She's just a kid, Logan," she whispered.

"Doesn't change what she can do," he replied, his voice low and dangerous.

Cyclops approached cautiously, his visor still glowing faintly. "We need to get her back to the mansion. Charles might be able to help her... stabilize."

Logan glanced at the girl’s fragile form, her face calm in sleep but haunted by the shadows of what she had been through. Something in him twisted. She was broken, just like him—but there was something more dangerous about her. Something darker.  

"Maybe," Logan grunted. But his eyes lingered on her longer than he intended. He couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how much they tried to help her, she was a ticking time bomb. And no one—not Charles, not the X-Men, not even himself—would be able to stop her if she went off again. 

Cyclops looked at Logan, as though sensing his unease. "You think we’re making a mistake?"

Logan snorted. "I don’t trust her." His gaze remained hard, unyielding. "And I don’t think she trusts us either." 

They gathered the girl carefully, carrying her out of the lab. But as they left the cold steel behind, Logan couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion in his gut. Something about her still clawed at his instincts. 

And Logan always trusted his instincts.

***

The X-Men team arrived back at the school in the early hours of the morning. The sky was still dark, the stars barely visible against the approaching dawn. The mansion loomed ahead, its windows softly illuminated by the interior lights.

Eva, awake already and restrained by the power-dampening cuffs, was guided through the front entrance. Her eyes were downcast, her steps slow and hesitant. She hasn’t talked much on their way back and no one was really in a talkative mood either. The only interaction Eva had was with Logan’s constant stare. 

The team moved with purpose but with an underlying tension. Logan walked alongside her, his jaw set and his eyes wary. 

As they reached the foyer, Charles Xavier awaited them in his wheelchair, his expression a mix of concern and resolve. He had been up all night, preparing for this moment. He wheeled forward to meet them, his gaze settling on Eva with a gentle, reassuring look.

“Welcome back,” Charles said softly, his voice warm. “I’m glad to see you’re all safe.” 

Logan, his eyes still fixed on Eva, grunted. “We got her here, but I’m telling you, this one’s a liability. Her powers are way out of control.” 

Charles nodded, his eyes never leaving Eva. “I understand your concerns, Logan. Eva, we’ll be taking you to the hospital wing for now. It’s important that we manage your powers and ensure everyone’s safety while we figure things out.”

Eva met Charles’s gaze briefly, her fear evident, but his kind eyes offered a small measure of comfort. She followed him and the team down the hall, her movements slow and cautious. 

As they approached the hospital wing, Charles turned to Logan, his expression thoughtful. “Logan, I know you’re worried. Her abilities are indeed formidable, and it’s natural to be concerned.” 

Logan’s brows furrowed, his frustration palpable. “Formidable? The girl almost killed me. She’s a risk, Charles. We don’t know what she’s capable of if she loses control again.” 

Charles placed a calming hand on Logan’s arm. “I understand. But she’s also a person who’s been through unimaginable suffering. We need to balance our caution with compassion. She’s scared and alone, and that’s why we need to approach this with care.” 

Logan shrugged off Charles’s hand, his gaze still dark. “Careful or not, we’re walking a tightrope here. One slip and we could all be in trouble.” 

Charles’s tone was firm yet soothing. “Yes, we are walking a tightrope. But remember, we have the means to help her, and we must give her a chance to prove that she can find control. We’ve faced dangers before, and we’ve come through. We will handle this situation with the same resolve.” 

Logan sighed heavily, his eyes narrowing. “Just keep her in check. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” 

“I will,” Charles said softly. “And we’ll do everything we can to ensure that doesn’t happen. But we also need to give Eva a chance to find her place here, just as we all had our own moments of struggle.” 

Logan’s gaze flickered to Eva, who was now being gently guided into the hospital wing by the staff. He didn’t say anything more, but the hardness in his eyes softened slightly.

Charles watched Eva as she was led to a bed, his concern evident. He turned back to Logan, a small, hopeful smile on his face. “Thank you for your vigilance, Logan. It’s what makes you a valuable member of this team. And it’s what will help us find the best path forward for Eva.” 

Logan nodded curtly, his expression still tense. “Yeah, well, let’s hope you’re right.” 

Charles watched him leave with a thoughtful look. He knew that Logan’s fears were not unfounded, but he also believed in the power of empathy and understanding. For now, his focus was on Eva, ensuring that she felt safe and supported as she began this new chapter in her life. 

As the door to the hospital wing closed behind him, Charles took a deep breath, preparing to meet the challenges ahead with the same determination and compassion he hoped to instill in everyone around him.

***

Logan stood at the threshold of the med bay, his silhouette casting a long shadow on the floor. The hum of machines monitoring Eva’s vitals filled the quiet, sterile air. She lay in one of the beds, hooked up to a dozen wires, her frail body looking even smaller against the white sheets. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, her face pale and sunken, with dark circles under her eyes. She looked fragile—broken, even—but Logan knew better than to trust appearances.

He clenched his fists at his sides, his knuckles white, his nails biting into his palms. Anger simmered just beneath the surface, bubbling up through his veins like molten steel, but it wasn’t the familiar kind of anger. It wasn’t the kind that came from a fight or from someone he hated. It was… different, raw and twisted, like a splinter lodged deep in his gut that he couldn’t pull out. 

Logan took a step forward, his boots heavy against the cold floor. His eyes never left the girl, even though something inside him told him to turn away, to leave. But he couldn’t. He had to face it—face her. 

“Why the hell am I still here?” he muttered under his breath, though the words tasted bitter in his mouth. He didn’t know why, but something kept pulling him back. Maybe it was that look in her eyes when she’d blasted him across the lab, that raw fear and regret that hit him like a punch to the gut. She hadn’t meant to hurt him—not really. But that didn’t change what she could do. 

*She’s dangerous,* Logan thought, his teeth grinding together. *Too dangerous.* 

The med bay door slid open with a soft hiss behind him, and Jean stepped in quietly. She glanced at Logan, her expression unreadable, then back to Eva. 

“She’s stabilized.” Jean said softly, her voice careful, as if she knew how close Logan was to snapping. “Her body’s been through a lot, but she’ll recover. Physically, at least.”

“Physically, huh?” Logan’s voice was low, a harsh rasp that betrayed the turmoil inside him. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

Jean sighed, stepping closer to him, her gaze flicking between him and the girl. “I know you’re angry, Logan.”

“Angry?!” He barked out a bitter laugh. “Hell, Jean, I’m beyond that.” His eyes locked onto Eva, who lay still and silent, oblivious to the storm brewing inside him. “She almost tore me apart. If I didn’t have my healin’, I’d be lyin’ in pieces right now. And it ain’t just me. She’s got enough power in her to wipe out this whole school if she loses it again.” 

Jean’s voice softened, but there was a firmness underneath it. “She didn’t mean to hurt you, Logan. She was scared. She still is.”

“I don’t care what she meant to do,” Logan growled, taking a step closer to Eva’s bed, his fists clenched. “What matters is what she can do. She’s outta control, Jean. And you’re tellin’ me you’re okay with keepin’ her here? Around the kids? You really want to risk that?” 

Jean didn’t respond right away, her eyes lingering on Eva’s small, fragile form. “She’s still young, Logan. A young girl who’s been tortured, experimented on. She didn’t ask for any of this.” 

“And what happens when she can’t keep it together?” Logan shot back, his voice harsh, laced with anger. “What happens when she lashes out again? You think the kids are safe with her around?” 

Jean’s silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable. Finally, she turned to face him fully, her voice gentle but firm. “Logan, I know you’re worried. We all are. But we can’t just give up on her.” 

Logan’s face twisted, his jaw tight, his eyes burning with an intensity that made even Jean flinch slightly. “Maybe we should,” he muttered, his voice low, dangerous. 

The words felt like poison on his tongue, but part of him believed them. He didn’t want to hate her—hell, he didn’t even know why he did—but he couldn’t shake the feeling that keeping her here was a mistake. A big one. It wasn’t just about what she’d done to him in that lab, or even what she was capable of. It was the feeling that clung to his skin like sweat whenever he looked at her—the feeling that she was a walking disaster waiting to happen. 

“Look, I get it, Jean,” he said, his voice a little quieter now, though still rough. “She’s a victim. But you can’t tell me that doesn’t make her more dangerous, not less. All that power, all that hurt… It’s a bad mix. She’s too damn powerful, and she’s got no control over it.” 

Jean opened her mouth to respond, but Logan cut her off. “You don’t get it,” he snapped, his eyes narrowing. “I can feel it. She’s unstable. You saw what she did without even tryin’. That’s the problem, Jean. She ain’t tryin’, and she still almost killed me. You really think it’ll be any different next time?” 

Jean’s eyes softened, but Logan could see the conflict in them. “She’s not beyond help. Charles thinks—” 

“Charles is a damn optimist,” Logan spat, shaking his head. “And maybe he’s wrong this time.” 

The room fell silent after that, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Jean didn’t argue, but she didn’t agree either. She just stood there, her hands folded in front of her, looking at Logan like she was waiting for something—waiting for him to let go of the anger that twisted his face into something hard and unrecognizable. 

But he couldn’t. 

Logan’s eyes drifted back to Eva, lying there so still, so helpless. His gut twisted again, that strange mix of guilt and fury gnawing at him. He hated her. He hated the situation. And he hated himself for feeling this way. But every time he tried to shake it, tried to tell himself she was just another lost kid who needed help, all he could see was the blast of power that had sent him flying, the fear and confusion in her eyes as she lost control. 

*Too dangerous,* he thought again, clenching his fists. 

His mind raced. He couldn’t figure out why his anger was so fierce, why his hatred for this girl seemed so personal. Maybe it was because he’d been there—maybe not the same way, but close enough. Maybe it was because her powers were so raw, so unchecked, like his claws before he learned how to control them. Or maybe it was because he saw a reflection of himself in her—what he could have been, what he was still afraid he could become. 

Whatever the reason, it didn’t change how he felt. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t trust that she wouldn’t hurt someone again, someone who wasn’t as tough to bounce back as he was. 

“She’s too powerful,” he muttered, more to himself than to Jean. “She doesn’t belong here.” 

Jean took a step closer, her hand resting gently on his arm. “She’s scared, Logan. Just like you were once.” 

He jerked his arm away, glaring at her. “Don’t. Don’t make this about me. This is about her. She’s dangerous, and you know it.” 

Jean didn’t flinch, though her voice softened. “And so were you, Logan. But we didn’t give up on you. And I won’t give up on her.” 

Logan let out a rough sigh, turning away from her, his eyes fixed on the door now. He couldn’t stand being in that room any longer. Not with her lying there, not with all the anger boiling up inside him. His heart felt too heavy, weighed down by everything he didn’t want to feel. 

“I’m tellin’ you, Jean,” he muttered as he moved toward the door, his voice hard again, “you’re makin’ a mistake. And when it all goes wrong, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

With that, he stormed out of the med bay, the door hissing shut behind him. But the knot of anger and guilt stayed with him, gnawing at his insides, refusing to let him go.

 ***

Eva's eyelids fluttered open to the soft hum of medical machinery and the muted light of early morning filtering through the blinds. The room was quiet, save for the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor and the occasional shuffle of footsteps outside. She blinked groggily, her mind struggling to piece together the events of the previous day.

The room was sterile and clinical, a stark contrast to the cold, harsh lab she’d known. Her wrists felt heavy, the power-dampening cuffs still securely fastened. As she shifted slightly, the soft rustle of the hospital bed linens reminded her of her vulnerable state. She winced, feeling the dull ache of yesterday’s emotional and physical turmoil.

She glanced around, trying to take in her surroundings. The walls were painted a soothing blue, and a small window offered a view of the gardens outside. It was a serene setting, but Eva felt anything but calm. The memories of her violent outburst and the fear in Logan's eyes replayed in her mind like a relentless loop.

Her breath quickened, and the panic spread. She tugged at the restraints, jerking her arms violently as she tried to free herself, but it was useless. The cuffs held firm, and with each tug, the fear inside her grew. Tears welled in her eyes as she remembered what had almost happened—what she’d nearly done. 

"I could’ve killed them. I almost killed them." 

Her stomach twisted, and bile rose in her throat. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. She never wanted to hurt anyone, but it didn’t matter anymore. She was too dangerous, too unstable, and the more they tried to help her, the more they were at risk. Everyone was in danger because of her. 

Her thoughts spiraled, faster and faster, and for a brief moment, she considered ripping her own wrists raw against the restraints, breaking free just to get as far away as possible. She couldn’t stay here. She didn’t belong here. She shouldn’t even be alive. 

Her body shook as the realization hit her. She didn’t want to live like this anymore. Every breath felt like a burden, every second a threat to those around her. 

"Why didn’t they just let me die?" 

Before she could spiral further, the door to the hospital wing hissed open, and heavy footsteps echoed through the sterile room. She stiffened, her eyes darting toward the figure who entered. 

It was him. Logan. 

He crossed the room with that familiar roughness, his boots heavy on the tile floor. His face was hard, expression unreadable, but the tension in his jaw and the simmering anger in his eyes told her all she needed to know. He didn’t want her here. He didn’t trust her. And she couldn’t blame him. 

Logan stopped at the foot of her bed, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at her. "You awake, then?" His voice was gruff, biting, as if the mere sight of her irritated him. 

Eva didn’t respond at first, her eyes still wide with fear. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribs, the weight of the handcuffs pressing into her skin. Her throat tightened, but she managed to whisper, “Why… why am I still here?” 

Logan’s eyes narrowed, his lip curling slightly. "Good question. I’ve been askin’ myself the same thing." 

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She bit her lip, tears threatening to spill over, but she swallowed them down. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” 

Logan’s eyes flashed, and he took a step closer. “That’s the problem, kid. You didn’t mean to, but you did. Almost tore me apart, nearly killed everyone in that damn lab. Hell, if you’d gone all the way, this whole place could’ve been rubble by now.” His voice was low, dangerous, each word dripping with the frustration he was barely holding back.  

Eva’s chest tightened, guilt flooding her system. “I don’t know how to control it,” she whispered, her voice cracking. "I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I don’t know how to stop it." 

Logan’s gaze didn’t soften. If anything, his eyes grew colder, harder. “That’s the point, isn’t it? You can’t control it. So why the hell should we trust you? Why should we risk the kids, the people in this school, just because you’re scared?” 

Tears finally spilled over, and Eva shook her head, feeling the weight of his words crush her. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be alive!” Her voice was desperate, her entire body trembling. “You’re right, okay? I’m a danger to everyone, and I know it. You should’ve let me die.” 

Logan’s face twitched, just for a second, and something flashed in his eyes—something almost like regret. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by that same hard, cold mask. “Maybe,” he muttered. “Maybe we should’ve.” 

His words hit her like a slap, and Eva turned her head away, unable to look at him anymore. Her chest heaved with sobs, the weight of everything pressing down on her until she couldn’t breathe. 

Just then, the door to the med bay slid open again, and Charles Xavier entered, his wheelchair moving silently across the floor. The tension in the room shifted, and Logan stepped back slightly, though his posture remained rigid.

Charles’s voice was soft, calming, as he approached the bed. “Eva,” he said gently, his eyes kind as he looked at her. “You’re safe now.” 

“Safe?” Eva’s voice was bitter, a shaky laugh escaping her lips. “How can you say that? I almost killed him.” She nodded toward Logan. “I could’ve killed all of you. I’m not safe. Not for you, not for anyone.” 

Charles’s expression remained calm, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes. “We understand that you’ve been through unimaginable pain. But you’re not beyond help, Eva. We can work with you, teach you how to control your powers. You don’t have to go through this alone.” 

But Eva shook her head violently, panic rising in her throat. “You don’t understand. They’re going to come for me. The people who did this to me, they’ll come back. And if I’m here, they’ll destroy everything in their way. You’ll all be in danger because of me. I—” Her voice broke, and she lowered her head, trembling. “Please… please just kill me. End it. I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.” 

Logan’s jaw clenched at her words, his anger bubbling up again. He wanted to snap at her, to tell her how selfish it was to think death was the answer, how ridiculous she sounded. But instead, he stood there, watching her break down, and for the first time, he felt a flicker of something else. Pity, maybe. Regret. He hated it, but it was there. Deep down.

For a moment, he saw himself in her—the same lost, broken thing, unsure of his place in the world. And it twisted something inside him.

Charles leaned forward, his tone soft but firm. “We don’t give up on anyone, Eva. You have a home here, if you choose to stay. We will help you, as long as you let us.” 

Eva shook her head again, tears streaming down her face. “I’m too dangerous. You’re making a mistake.” 

Logan exhaled sharply, stepping forward. “Maybe we are,” he growled, his voice cutting through the air. “But that’s not your call to make. You wanna give up? Fine. But Charles is right—we don’t give up on people here. So you’re stuck with us, whether you like it or not.”

His words hung in the air, and Eva stared at him through tear-filled eyes. She didn’t know whether to be scared or relieved, but all she felt was the crushing weight of guilt and fear. She wanted to believe they could help her, but deep down, she wasn’t sure anyone could.

And that terrified her most of all. 

Eva’s tears soaked into the hospital pillow, and for a moment, the room was thick with silence. She couldn’t shake the terror clawing at her chest. Charles’s kind words barely registered through the haze of guilt and fear. Every instinct screamed to get away, to run before she hurt someone again. But the restraints around her wrists, humming with the suppression of her powers, kept her pinned to the bed, a prisoner to her own body.

Logan stood by the door, arms crossed, his expression dark. He had always been a difficult person to read, but right now, his anger was crystal clear. He didn’t want her here. He’d made that painfully obvious. Part of her agreed with him. She was too dangerous. Even if Charles promised help, what could they really do? 

She had almost killed them. All of them. Logan, especially, and he wasn’t going to forget that anytime soon.

Logan broke the silence first, his voice sharp and cutting. "You think just 'cause we say we’ll help, that’s some kinda ticket outta responsibility? That you can just sit back and let us fix you? You’ve gotta want it. And I don’t think you do, kid."

Eva flinched at his words, her face contorting in pain. His anger wasn’t just justified—it was expected—but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. She turned her head away, unable to look at him.

"I don’t want anything," she whispered. "I just want to disappear."

Logan’s eyes narrowed, his frustration clearly boiling over. He took a step closer to the bed, his voice rising. "You think you’re the only one who’s been through hell? You think you’re special ’cause they did some experiments on you? Join the damn club." He jabbed his thumb at his own chest, his scowl deepening. "I’ve been there. I’ve done all that, and guess what? I didn’t get a choice. So don’t you stand there askin’ us to give up on you just ‘cause you’re scared."

His words were like a punch to the gut, and Eva’s tears flowed harder. She squeezed her eyes shut. She had been through hell, yes, but she didn’t have his strength. She couldn’t fight it the way he had. Her powers were out of control, and she was too weak, too broken to even try.

“I can’t control it,” she choked, her voice breaking. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I don’t know how to stop it. You don’t understand. They built me to be a weapon. I’m a ticking time bomb, and sooner or later, I’ll explode again.”

Logan clenched his fists, his knuckles white as the words hit him. He hated how familiar it all sounded, hated how much of his own past he could hear in her voice. But he couldn’t let that soften him, not when the stakes were this high. Not when she could destroy everything they’d built here, everything they protected.

 “I get it, alright?” Logan growled. “You’re scared, and yeah, maybe you’ve been turned into a weapon, but that doesn’t mean you get to give up. You’re here now, and if you’re gonna stay, you better start fightin’ for somethin’ other than your damn self-pity.”

Eva trembled, her wrists pulling at the restraints as if she could somehow claw her way out of this nightmare. “I don’t want to be here! I don’t want to be anywhere. I should’ve died in that lab. It would’ve been better for everyone.”

Logan’s face tightened, a growl building in his throat. His anger, which had been simmering on the surface, was threatening to break loose. But before he could unleash another biting remark, Charles raised a hand, his voice calm but firm.

"Logan," Charles said gently, his gaze shifting from the girl to the man, “perhaps we should ease up.” 

Logan shot Charles a sharp look, but there was something in the Professor’s eyes that made him pause, though the tension in his body remained. He backed off a step, arms still crossed, but the scowl stayed firmly in place. His anger wasn’t gone—it was just barely contained. 

Charles turned his attention back to Eva, his voice soft and steady, the same calm she’d heard from him before. But this time, it pierced through her haze of fear just a little. 

"Eva," he began, "I understand why you’re afraid. I can’t pretend to know the extent of your pain, but I do know this: you are not alone. You are not the first person to feel like their powers are too much to bear, and you won’t be the last. This place, this school, is for people just like you." 

Eva shook her head, tears still streaming down her face. “You don’t get it. It’s not just me. The people who did this—they’ll come back for me. They’ll come for all of you. You’ll be in danger because of me.”

Charles’s expression didn’t waver. “We’ve faced threats before, Eva. But we believe in protecting those who cannot protect themselves. No one here will abandon you, no matter how great the risk.” 

“Maybe you should,” she muttered, her voice barely audible. “Maybe it’d be better if you did.” 

Logan scoffed from the corner, his patience thinning. "Maybe she’s got a point. You’re gambling a lot on someone who’s not even sure she wants to be saved, Charles. She could bring this whole place down." 

Eva flinched again at his words, her heart aching with the weight of them. He was right. What was the point of trying to help her if she didn’t even know if she could be helped?

But Charles, as always, remained resolute. 

“I know the risks,” Charles said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of authority. “But I also know that we must give her a chance. Eva, if you stay here, we will do everything in our power to help you gain control. You can have a life, a real life, outside of the torment they put you through.” 

Eva swallowed hard, her chest tight. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to, but the fear was too overwhelming. What if she couldn’t control it? What if Logan was right, and she was just too dangerous to be here? 

She shook her head, the tears never stopping. “I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if it’s even possible.” 

Charles leaned closer, his eyes filled with the kind of kindness she hadn’t seen in a long time. “We will help you find out. But first, you must give yourself that chance.” 

Eva’s breath caught in her throat. She stared at the Professor, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but there was none. He was offering her a lifeline, but could she trust herself to take it? 

Her eyes drifted to Logan, still standing with his arms crossed, his face hard. He looked at her like she was a threat, like she didn’t belong here. And maybe she didn’t. Maybe he was right.

But part of her wanted to fight. Just a small part, buried beneath all the pain and fear, but it was there, flickering weakly.

“I don’t… I don’t know how,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t even know where to start.” 

Charles smiled gently. “You start by staying. By trusting us.” 

Logan scoffed again but said nothing, though his eyes bore into her, still filled with distrust. But for a fleeting second, something flickered in his gaze. Maybe it was pity, or maybe just the faintest trace of understanding. Either way, it didn’t last long, quickly replaced by the cold mask of doubt. 

Eva closed her eyes, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. She didn’t know if she could trust them—or herself. But for the first time in a long time, she had a choice. She could choose to run. Or she could choose to stay and try. 

It was the scariest choice she’d ever faced.

[westwingsolo]

ALEXANDER GABRIEL CLAREMONT-DIAZ

"Why the yelling??? What did I do?"