I'd Like To Inform Everyone Who Might Not Know But TikTok Is Back Online You Can Use It Again In The

😂😂😂😂😂😂 OH - no💀

Drew this on my phone recently and I'm pretty proud of how it turned out especially since it's my first time doing something like this it's wolverine from x-men origins

Okay so logan is 200 years old and I bet he's spent a lot of that time in the wilderness so I bet he knows everything there is to know about plants; weather it's poisonous or not if it's edible and how to cook it, the medicinal property of the plant he's probably documented each one by hand cause God knows he has the time and why not, he probably knows about a lot of extinct plants and has a few of them he's trying to bring back. He also probably know every animal on the planet and everything there is to know about them. I like to think that logan considers himself a kind of keeper of the wild, or at least I do. I also think that if he has a strong enough bond with a human, mutant, or animal he forms a telepathic link with them (it's already happened with psylocke) and they can get some kind of healing thing from this as well.

That's all I have for now

Did you guys know logan had a dog, and he named him Blue. I mean, that's gotta be the cutest name I've heard.

What if Logan makes his own cigars and it's just straight up catnip.

I love it when people give wolverine some feminine features he's not butch but he's pretty and handsome, manly and feminine it just goes together so well

Ooooopsies my bad 😉

Ooohhh noooo ohhhhh ooopppps i....just..........pressed the post b-

So I drew this a while back to get the real feel for a comic accurate wolverine and it took a lot of adjusting to get hugh to look 5'3.

Took the og pic

Turned that into this

and this into a drawing

Like a prayer

Based on this post

------

The late-night fast food joint was nearly empty, fluorescent lights flickering above while Logan leaned back in his seat, shooting Wade a half-smirk over the rim of his drink. They’d barely made it to the end of their meal without bickering over something trivial, but Wade loved that—the arguments, the banter, the push-and-pull that made things feel like they were truly alive. Here, with greasy fries, cheap beer, and the warmth of Logan’s rare but genuine laugh, Wade felt a sense of peace.

When Logan stood to head to the bathroom, Wade barely registered the way Logan muttered something about Wade stealing his fries, watching him disappear down the hall with a grin.

Minutes passed. Too many.

The smile faded, Wade’s senses pricking with unease. He glanced around, half-expecting Logan’s gruff figure to stride back, maybe cracking a joke about Wade being paranoid. But the uneasy silence grew, stretching thin, and Wade’s heart began to pound. Something wasn’t right. He rose, pushing his tray aside and hurrying toward the bathroom.

As he entered, a metallic scent hit him—blood.

His gaze dropped, horror creeping up his spine as he followed the dark smears of blood staining the floor, leading to the open window. Logan had been kidnapped. The realization hit Wade like a fist to the gut. The panic sharpened into something harder, something cold and deadly.

The manager nearly choked as Wade pressed him against the wall, a gun held to his temple. Wade could only imagine what an image he gave off —a bald man with a face full of burn scars and blisters, eyes black as the night, aiming a gun.

“Security footage,” Wade hissed, his voice like a razor. “Now.”

Terrified, the manager stammered and scrambled to comply, showing him the footage. Wade’s stomach twisted as he watched the screen, where Logan had been ambushed—no, hunted. The men had moved quickly, mercilessly. They’d struck him with knockout gas, beaten him with lead pipes until he crumpled, helpless, his skull crushed, bones breaking with each brutal swing.

They dragged him, his body limp, leaving a trail of blood as they shoved him into a van. Wade could feel his hands shaking as he took down the license plate number. Rage surged through him, cold and fierce, as he turned and left without another word, the screams of the manager fading in the background.

---

Wade’s contacts came through quickly, as he knew they would. They owed him, and he would’ve torn down their doors himself if they hadn’t. He found the address, a decrepit warehouse on the outskirts of town, the kind of place where shadows stretched long and secrets lay buried under layers of dust and neglect.

He’d expected to face this alone, but as he approached, he saw familiar figures—the X-Men—already there. Of course they had caught wind of what happened. They nodded grimly as he joined them, each one looking as angry, as frightened as he felt.

Jean’s soft voice cut through the tension, filled with sympathy. “Wade…I have to warn you, they’ve done something to him. They’ve tried to…erase him, turn him into a weapon again.”

Wade clenched his jaw, a chill creeping up his spine. The very thing Logan feared most—being stripped of his humanity, reduced to a monster at the whims of men who saw him as nothing but a weapon.

“I don’t care what they’ve done,” Wade muttered, his voice thick with pain. “We’re getting him back.”

A crash interrupted them, and they turned to see Logan at the end of the hallway. His eyes were wild, a twisted feral glint in them that sent a pang through Wade’s heart. This was not the Logan he knew, not the man he loved. His gaze was empty, filled with only rage and instinct.

“Logan…” Wade breathed, his voice a mix of shock and sorrow.

But Logan didn’t seem to hear him. He lunged forward, claws bared, each movement a brutal, calculated attack. The X-Men tried to hold him back, but he cut through them with vicious efficiency. Every strike, every slash—there was nothing held back, nothing restrained. His healing factor, paired with his berserker fury, made him unstoppable. Jean fell back, a wound across her arm; Hank was thrown against the wall, groaning as he tried to rise. The other X-Men didn't fare any better and they quickly retreated.

Wade’s chest tightened as he watched, desperation clawing at him. He couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t let them lose Logan again, not like this.

An idea formed, a wild, reckless hope.

“Wolverine!” Wade’s voice rang out, the sound echoing as he stepped forward, blocking Logan’s path to the others. “Come and get me, honeybadger!”

Logan turned, the wildness in his eyes flickering as he sized Wade up, a snarl pulling at his lips. Wade took a deep breath, leading him into a small, empty room at the end of the hall. He could hear Jean’s worried voice behind him, begging him not to do it, to let them help.

But Wade shut the door, closing himself in with the man he loved, the man who now saw him as prey.

Logan’s posture was predatory, his muscles coiled and ready to strike. Wade felt a flicker of fear but pushed it down. Instead, he looked Logan in the eyes, willing him to see, to remember.

And then, he did the only thing he could think of. He began to sing.

Life is a mystery

Everyone must stand alone

I hear you call my name

And it feels like home

The words spilled from him, shaky, his voice cracking with emotion. Logan stopped, his head tilting, a faint glimmer of recognition in his gaze. Wade’s voice grew stronger, louder, each word a lifeline.

When you call my name, it's like a little prayer

I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there

In the midnight hour, I can feel your power

Just like a prayer, you know I'll take you there

He was crying now, unable to stop the tears streaming down his face. This was the song they'd saved the world to, holding onto the raw strings of matter and anti-matter, holding each other's hands. It was theirs, a memory of a connection that could never be severed again.

Logan’s breathing slowed, his eyes softening, the rage melting away as he stared at Wade, the familiar lines of his face, the sound of his voice. Slowly, the haze lifted, memories returning as he saw Wade—his Wade.

“Wade…” Logan’s voice was rough, barely more than a whisper, but Wade heard it, heard the pain, the sorrow.

Wade stepped forward, his hands shaking as he took Logan’s face between his palms. Logan’s eyes were wet, shimmering with regret and grief as he collapsed into Wade’s arms, his entire body trembling.

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” Logan choked, clutching Wade as though afraid he’d vanish. “I couldn’t…they…I wasn't strong enough.”

Wade held him close, his own tears falling freely. He stroked Logan’s hair, his voice soft, soothing. “Hey, hey…you’re back. You’re with me. I’ve got you.”

They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the darkness around them seemed to fade, replaced by the warmth of their embrace. Logan’s sobs quieted, and Wade gently wiped the tears from his cheeks, pressing his lips to Logan’s forehead.

Outside, the X-Men waited, the tension easing as they heard the muffled sound of Wade’s song, the quiet murmurs of reassurance. Jean and Hank exchanged a glance, relief softening their expressions.

In that moment, with Wade’s arms around him and his familiar scent grounding him, Logan felt safe. The shame, the rage—they faded, replaced by something fragile, something hopeful.

“I’m here, Wade,” Logan whispered, his voice rough but steady. “I’m…I’m here.”

Wade’s voice was a soft promise, his words barely a whisper as he held Logan tighter. “And I’m never letting you go.”

It wasn’t an ending, nor a beginning. It was a moment suspended in time, where two souls found each other again, bound by something deeper than memory, stronger than fear. And as Wade held him, Logan knew, for the first time, that he was home. Because home wasn't a place, it was a person. And that person was Wade.

Relatable

When I say "I feel like Wolverine", I mean this Wolverine:

He looks so done with life, I can't 🤣

(I look like that every day after dealing with my annoying classmates lol)