#we would kill erins and they know it

[waffultaim]

Being a firegray shipper in the warriors fandom is such a drama, you think you have problems with your rarepair or unknown ship well you really don't understand real pain, it's supposed to be simple this generic basic shipping that could have amount of content by default because they are "BFF" in canon yet still nothing no sound no much talk, they have amount of paragraphs, lines, phrases, iconic moments in the books; the "Always Firestar", "I would give my life for you", "no cat would feel the same he felt for Graystripe for four long seasons"...yet still nothing it's so goddamn funny that makes me laugh 😂 and cry 😭 at the same time!! how doomed this pair can be tell me!

[jacksabbotts]

aaron hotchner x consultant!reader tw .' graphic descriptions of crime scenes/murder , religion-fueled murder , slight body dismorphia?? ( reference to readers unusual ring size and reader size difference compared to "other women" )

masterlist | series masterlist | dividers by @cafekitsune | join the taglist

imagine going undercover with boss!hotch as your husband

the team sat at the round table, eyes flicking between open files and the overhead screen. case photos scrolled slowly: a rotting wooden chapel, a girl in white laid out like a saint, ash streaked across her forehead. latin scrawled in red chalk on the wall behind her. and most disturbing of all, a cross—upside down—made of bones.

‘two victims,’ strauss said, voice crisp. the section chief's mere presence put the whole team into fight or flight mood because erin strauss didn't just pop down to say a hearty hello and she sure as heck didn't assist on cases.

which meant this was one for the ages. the gears had already begun to turn in your head as you stared at the crime scene photos in the file in your hands.

'one female, one male. both members of a religious commune in missouri. self-identified as the shepherd’s light. neither made contact with anyone outside the compound for months before the male body was found in a ravine three miles from the property line. the woman was found in an abandoned chapel. cause of death for both was ruled exsanguination and dehydration. signs of prolonged restraint.'

emily leaned back in her chair, frowning. 'so they’re bleeding out and starving people to death?'

'the cult calls it ‘cleansing',' hotch replied. 'and they made it very clear they don't like outsiders.'

garcia, stood off to the side of the board, with her tablet in one hand and her remote in the other. she made a face as she once again forced herself to look at the crime scene. 'so fun.'

'locals haven’t been inside the compound in years,' garcia added. 'the only way in is through formal initiation. the leaders only allow married couples past the outer gates.'

morgan’s eyebrows rose. 'they screen for sin but not murder? this can't be the unsub's first kills so how did he even make it in to the inner sanctum?'

'we have no information other than what is showed to the public,' strauss said. 'which is why we'll need to get someone inside. two of you will need a strong cover. married. clean. it needs to be convincing.'

the air shifted.

silence wrapped around their necks like a noose. you'd felt it before it was said. the gaze. the expectation. it was only logical that you would play the wife part of this undercover mission. you were the only one with the cultish knowledge to be able to pull it off.

all that was left was to pick your soon to be husband. strauss turned toward hotch.

'you and our consultant will pose as husband and wife.'

you blinked. 'wait—what?' you knew it was a possiblity that hotch would have to fill the role of your so called husband, but morgan was undoubtably stronger, reid smarter, but for some reason you reveled in the idea of being married to aaron hotchner ( even if it was purely for show ).

hotch barely moved. 'we have the best age profile. and you the familiarity with their theology.' morgan let out a low whistle. 'hope you like cuddling, hotch.' he teased.

garcia gasped. 'oh in holy matrimony!'

reid blinked. 'why not send in actual agent?' he spared you the most minute glance before turning back to strauss. you didn't know why you suddenly felt so defensive, it wasn't like anything reid could say would take this moment away from you.

'because you’re not a cult-linguistic iconography expert, spence,' you said, flipping open the case file once again. 'and you’d crack in five minutes if someone asked about your sex life.'

hotch remained still. arms crossed. jaw tight.

'your cover story is already in place,' strauss continued, as if she knew you and hotch would agree without a fight.

'married three years. no children. former catholics turned ‘spiritual seekers.’ you’ll be taken in for a one-week initiation. stay within the plan. do not go off-script.'

you caught hotch’s eye across the table. he didn’t flinch.

so you smiled.

'can’t wait to see what kind of honeymoon suite we’re getting.' you mumbled as you turned to the exit, but you did not miss the tinge of red forming on the tips of hotch's ears.

✧

the compound was nestled in a pine-heavy pocket of nowhere missouri. the gravel path to the front gates was flanked by hand-painted signs :

he is watching.

all flesh must be made new.

the wife shall submit.

it was disturbing to say the least. 'charming,' you muttered as the car rolled to a stop.

two men in identical beige jackets approached the vehicle. they smiled without their eyes. you and hotch stepped out slowly, letting the october air hit your skin like a slap.

hotch’s wedding ring glinted in the morning sun and damn if it didn't make your stomach turn. yours, however, felt too tight. no one ever got your ring size right. they always thought that because you were a woman that your were supposed to have thin and dainty fingers.

but there was nothing dainty about you and you had learned early on to embrace that.

'brother elijah and sister miriam,' the taller one greeted. 'we’re honored you found us.' hotch’s voice was low, steady. 'we’re honored to be here.'

the guards walked you through the gate and into the commune. it was quiet—almost eerily so. children ran barefoot across the grass but didn’t laugh. a woman hung linens beside a chapel with a broken stained-glass window. the chapel were the second victims body was found. they hadn't even tried to repair it ( so much for worship ). the was no hint music. no hum of technology.

just cold silence.

the cabin door shut with a soft click, and the silence that followed was immediate. heavy.

too heavy for what was supposed to be a happily married couple of three years. you dropped your duffel bag onto the bed without ceremony and toed off your boots, each thud against the wood a small rebellion. the mattress creaked as you sat on the edge and looked around.

minimal. one bed. one crucifix nailed to the wall ( unsettlingly similar to the one hanging upside down over the latest female victim ). the air smelled like old cedar and pressed linen.

you glanced over your shoulder. hotch hadn’t moved.

he stood just inside the door, still upright, still zipped up to the throat like he could armor himself in authority. he hadn’t taken off his jacket. hadn’t put down his bag. his eyes scanned the space like it might explode.

you let the silence stretch, but not for long. 'loosen up, husband,' you said finally, not bothering to hide the dry amusement in your voice. 'we’re home.

hotch didn’t answer. he stepped forward just enough to set his go-bag in the far corner, beside the bureau. not a wasted movement. every muscle under his jacket seemed braced—like you were the threat, not the cult the two of you were literally infiltrating.

'i’ll take the floor,' he said, already reaching for his sweatshirt to fold into a makeshift pillow.

you raised an eyebrow. 'don’t be dramatic, hotch.'

'i’m not.'

'really?' you rose slowly, walked past him to the window to draw the curtain closed. 'one bed. two adults. fully clothed. no risk of heresy. i think you’ll survive.'

he didn’t argue—but he didn’t agree, either. that was hotch in a fucking nutshell : a man who said more with silence than most did with full speeches.

you changed behind the modest privacy screen near the wardrobe. the chill in the air raised goosebumps along your arms. you pulled on a tank top and sleep shorts—nothing you hadn’t worn around him before, technically, but the context now was… sharp and somewhat loaded.

when you stepped out, he was already sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees. his eyes flicked to you, barely a second. then away.

you watched his jaw clench once. twice.

he lay down without another word. flat on his back, arms crossed over his chest like he was preparing for burial.

you joined him a second later, slipping under the rough cotton blanket. the mattress dipped, and still he didn’t turn.

you both stared at the ceiling, the dim outline of the crucifix above you casting shadows in opposite directions.

the silence crackled.

'you always this fun on your honeymoons?' you asked, voice light, but not without weight.

he didn’t answer. not at first anyway.

just one breath—held.

then : 'try to get some sleep.' you let out a quiet laugh, short and bitter and after a moment he let one out that mirrored yours.

and god help you, you wanted to hear it again.

THE END

[witchygagirlwrites]

Rogue-Part 8

Jay Halstead x Reader (nicknamed Rogue)

Just as you’re closing Ryatts case, finally getting a win tragedy strikes back home. You rush back to Chicago but it seems like you weren’t as missed as you thought or were you?

Warnings: violence, talks of rape, death, seemingly cheating?

A/N:DONT YELL AT ME YET!!!

“Rogue, a word?” you turned to Agent Palladino walking up to where you and Lyla were talking. “Yeah?” he nodded to the room off from the conference room all of you had currently taken over in Paris so you followed him. Once the two of you were in the room he turned to face you “This is the final raid on the Gada organization” 

“That’s great” you breathed and he held your eyes “The man taking credit for the five shootings, Ryatt’s included, will be in the residence we plan to take. Will you be able to take him alive unless you’re pushed into a corner with no other option?”  you froze, feeling your fingers numb at the tips. Everything the last couple months away from home, missing your unit, the distance you could feel in every phone call with Jay had led to this. “Unless my life, a fellow task force members or a civilian’s is put in immediate danger with no other foreseeable way out I’ll bring the bastard in wearing my cuffs” 

He nodded and handed you the file that was tucked under his arm “This is his photo and his name. I’m trusting you” you opened the file and a photo stared back at you. A white guy in his late thirties, early forties maybe. Dark blonde hair and brown eyes. “Jakob Micheals” you breathed the name responsible for every inch of pain you’d endured since the moment Ryatt stepped out of that cab.

Luca put his hand on your shoulder “Do you want to take a moment and step away to call Halstead? Get your head on straight?” you nodded “Yeah, I’ll do that” he gave you a small smile “I’ll give you some privacy”

Once he walked out you pulled your phone out and hit Jay’s number. Normally he’d answer on the third ring at most but this time it went to voicemail “Hey, it’s me. Um..we found him Jay. Jakob Micheals. The man who killed Ry. We’re um we’ll be gearing up in the next hour or so. If you get this before then please call me..I’d really love to hear your voice before I face this..I love you with everything baby”

You tried Erin’s number and it went to voicemail too. “FUCK” you wanted to throw your phone. What the hell was going on back in Chicago? You hit Nadia’s number. She always answered. You waited and waited then it went to voicemail too. “Hey Nadia, um I just needed a friendly voice. I love you” 

You didn’t really know anyone else to call. Platt or Voight wasn’t really comforting. You could call Kev but damn why wasn’t your boyfriend or either of your best friends answering? You sighed and slipped your phone into your pocket. You couldn’t do this right now. 

You stepped out of the room and nodded to Palladino “Let’s get it done” he nodded and looked around “You all heard her. This is the end of the road boys and girls. Every raid, every bump and bruise has led to this. We gear up, we hit em hard and fast” 

Luca knew going in where your eyes would be glued to so the moment you spotted Jakob he yelled your name but you could’ve cared less. “FBI FREEZE” you hollered but he turned to run out of the house so you fell in behind him. “Hell no” you heard Layla and Lionel both fall in step with you. 

Layla went left and Lionel went right, hoping to sort of corral him where he would have nowhere else to go. When he realized he was quite literally blocked in he tried to pull his gun but you already had yours pulled “Get on your knees” he grinned at you but about then Layla and Lionel both came up on his sides, shoving the barrels of their guns into his neck “She said on your fucking knees” Layla repeated and he slowly went to his knees as Lionel plucked the gun from his waistband and looked to you “Want the honors of him wearing your cuffs?”

“You bet your ass I do” you holstered your gun then walked over behind Jakob “Look at me” he turned to look at you “I remember you” you nodded as you put the cuffs on him “You killed my brother you piece of shit and if it’s the last thing I do I’ll make sure you never see the light of day again” “Poor thing” he mocked. Lionel and Layla cut their eyes at you then both purposely turned their backs.

Since Jakob was on his knees and cuffed you kicked him dead center of his back, causing him to land face first on the concrete. You heard the telltale crunch of his nose breaking before blood started pouring out of his face. Lionel turned back around “Look at that, the clumsy bastard fell” and snatched him to his feet.

Layla slipped her arm around your shoulders “Are you ok?” you glared at Jakob as Lionel drug him away “No, but I’m better now. That bastard isn’t free anymore” 

Everything was wrapped so you and Layla headed back to your shared place to crash. In a few days to a week or two you should be headed home. She grinned at you when you walked over the threshold “I’ve got an idea”

You raised an eyebrow because in the weeks you’d been working with her you’d learned the redhead saying she had an idea could mean damn near anything. She waved towards her arm and the sleeve of tattoos on it. “This case was important. It was your brother’s murder for god's sake. You need something to commemorate closing it. Something to honor everything you’ve done, not just for Ryatt but for the other four families as well. Let me buy you a tattoo in honor of your brother”

You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth then nodded “Ok” she laughed “Really?” you shrugged “Not like anyone back home is answering me and I’d like to have something to honor Ryatt and closing this damn nightmare chapter” she smiled and slipped her arm around you “Attagirl. Let’s go”

Jay sat away from everyone else listening to your voicemail “Hey, it’s me. Um..we found him Jay. Jakob Micheals. The man who killed Ry. We’re um we’ll be gearing up in the next hour or so. If you get this before then please call me..I’d really love to hear your voice before I face this..I love you with everything baby”

It had come in while they were in the air. He didn’t know what to do. Should he call you now? How the hell could he tell you Nadia was dead? How the hell could you go from facing one loss to the other? Erin was falling apart. He damn near had to carry her away from the dump site. If something happened to you, if this finished what Ryatt’s death started.. 

“What is it Jay?” Voight walked over and he glanced up “Rogue found the guy. She called me to tell me that they were going into the raid while we were in the air but how the hell do I call her and tell her this?” he felt tears threaten his eyes again. “I can call Palladino, get on a conference call and do it. You don’t have to” 

“You handled Ryatt’s death too” Jay whispered and Voight shrugged “I’m more used to it than you are kid. It’s fine. Just go be with the team. I got it” Jay nodded blankly and walked away to check on everyone. Mouse stood when he saw Jay walking back over. Voight scrubbed a hand down his face and walked into his office.

In the time you’d been working with him Luca had never called you out of bed. You had no clue what was going on. You sat across from him in his rental car just outside the place you and Layla were sharing as he hit his phone “I’ve got her here with me Hank”

“Hank?” you asked and heard Voight’s rough voice come through the phone “Sweetheart, we lost Nadia” “Lost? What..what do you mean lost? She was doing good. She was applying to the academy”

“We caught a case, serial rapist and murderer. Nadia caught his eye and before we knew what was going on he grabbed her. The reason Jay didn’t answer when you called was because we were on the way to New York to work with Benson’s unit in hopes of recovering her alive”  

“He killed her?” you whispered and wasn’t sure he heard you until he said “She put up one hell of a fight” you felt that weight that was just starting to lift come crashing down but only one thought stopped it “Oh god, Erin” “She’s not doing good” he replied and you breathed out slowly, tears streaming down your face “I’ll be home as soon as I can” “Call me when you get home and stay safe kid” “I will. Thank you Hank” 

When he hung up a choked sob escaped your throat and Luca looked at you “I don’t know if I should hug you or what” you laughed humorlessly “I don’t know either. What if he wouldn’t have gotten her if I would’ve been there”

“No, hell no. You do not do that to yourself. You can only take on so much” He was quick to say that and you nodded “When can I go home?” he rubbed his hand down his face “Let me make some calls. I’ll get you on a plane within a day or so” “Thank you”

You tried to sleep on the plane ride but your dreams kept jumping from Ryatt to Nadia to something happening to Jay. You ended up asking the stewardess what was the max amount of coffee you could have and getting that to stay awake the rest of the time.

The plan was to go to Erin before you ever even went home to Jay. You desperately wanted to see him but you needed to see her first. You could only imagine the hell she was putting herself through if you were feeling the guilt you were.

______________________

When the plane landed in Chicago you grabbed your duffle and hailed a cab. You tried calling Jay but it went to voicemail so you gave up. Wasn’t like you didn’t have a key. You gave the cabbie the address to Erin’s building and leaned back in the seat.

When he pulled up you passed him the money and hoisted your duffle on your shoulder before stepping out. You decided on the stairs just because the plane ride and sitting still that long had been hell on your back. 

You walked up to the third floor and yawned when you stepped off. You readjusted your bag as you walked around the corner and froze dead in your tracks. Jay was at her door. The two of them were standing close, talking. The set of his shoulders, how he was leaning into her. How she was looking up at him..no.

“Do you want to come in for a drink?” she asked and your heart ripped apart when you heard his voice “I think we’ve had enough to drink” he leaned in closer to her and she leaned up…you didn’t need to see anymore. You spun on your heel and ran back to the stairs. The flights that had just taken you maybe seven minutes to walk up took a total of two to go down. 

_____________________

You ran out to the sidewalk and waved down the first cab you saw and practically dove into the backseat before the tears finally hit you. It didn’t occur to you that you were openly sobbing until the poor guy asked “Are ok?” you looked up at him and whispered “Take me to the Hampton inn hotel please” he nodded and pulled off from the curb “Are you sure you’re ok?” “No but no one hurt me physically sir” 

“Miss, are you sure I don’t need to call someone?” you glanced down at your phone, the wallpaper a photo of you and Jay as you whispered “I have no one to call” 

Part 9

@desimarie12

@allisonargent144

@nevaehstreater18

@elvenpirate51

@voidvinyls

[acexsmhking]

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑻𝒐𝒃𝒊𝒂𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒓𝒆/𝑭𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒔

: ̗̀➛ Toby lore/facts

Summary: I wrote a document of Toby that contains my personal lore/facts for him along side non-canonical and original content. Get to know my perspective of Toby better!

Warning(s): 18+ content, dark themes, child abuse, alcoholism, descriptions of gore, descriptions of child abuse, cannibalism, non-canonical mentions

Subject - SCP-524-S

Full name: Tobias Erin Rogers

Date of Birth: 4/28/1994

Place of Birth: Trier, Rhineland-Palatinate Germany

Height: 6ft, 0in

Weight: 165 lbs

Name Origins: Hebrew - Good of God

Zodiac: Taurus

Immigrated to Denver, CO. US at age 5 with parental family (Father, Mother, Aunt and Sister)

Multiple detected physical disorders: TS (Tourette Syndrome, class: both), CIPA (Congenital Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis)

Multiple detected mental disorders: SAD (social anxiety disorder), Depression, Bipolar III (Cyclothymic Disorder), D-PTSD (Dissociative PTSD), Autophagia, Amnesia

SCP-524-S ranges from multiple Northwest states: Oregon, Washington, Alaska, Idaho, Wyoming and Montana

SCP-524-S rarely visits Middle/South states, typically more active during Spring, Fall and Winter. Moves to costal areas during Summer.

Subject experienced symptoms of interaction with the creature known as The Operator (SCP-582) through juvenile development. Faced interaction with the creature as 14yrs

Subject has a complicated case with D-PTSD (Dissociative PTSD), and Amnesia. Cause of D-PTSD being after death of family member: Lyra Rogers, Subjects age was 17yrs.

Shortly after tragic events SCP-524-S showed an increase in irrationality and hostility. SCP-524-S experienced increasing memory loss, waking up either dirty or with strange marks, bruises, and indents on body.

Subject is noted to have chewed through the flesh of his left cheek. Other notible scars being a long cut from Subject left eyebrow to eye cause after altercation with Father. SCP-524-S also chewed flesh on both hands, right being severely injured

Seven months after tragedy event Subject was forced to wear a metal wire muzzle fitted to face by pulling wires tighter. Two years later Subject went aggressively brutally killing Father, multiple citizens in a fire

Amnesia later induced on Subject after final contact with SCP-582

SCP-524-S kills in large numbers, typically aiming on office buildings and neighborhoods. SCP-524-S may kill a few victims before entrapping builds in large man-made fire

Singular kills are mainly done in forest areas. SCP-524-S will used leftover body parts from past victims to lure in new ones. Ambushing from trees and bushes

SCP-524-S has a talent of mimicking crying, whispers, and human sounds

Prior to capture, SCP-524-S was elusive. Scent trails and tracks always cut off mid-way and Subject would be lost. Subjects infected by The Operator possibly have chameleon like abilities, blending into their surroundings but not quite teleportation

SCP-524-S has yet to willingly show these abilities

Subject described waking up in the middle of woods with no prior memory after making contact with The Operator. There Subject was met with another proxy to The Operator, Kate the Chaser

Another Subject that has remained unseen by eye or photograph. Subject described learning, living and bonding with Kate which also resulted in his habits of consuming human flesh

“We had to find our own food, eat whatever we caught” — SCP-524-S

Subject stayed in territory of SCP-582 and Kate for six years before leaving, stating SCP-582’s behavior grew increasingly hostile and violent towards him. Kate guided him to the Northern states before leaving

Subject refuses to give location of Kate

While not certain and test remain negative SCP-524-S exhibits behavior of AIWS (Alice In Wonderland Syndrome), could be cause by stressful events and ill-maintained health

When captured, it became apparent that SCP-524-S grew a bond with SCP-225-S as creature could be spotted in distance watching. Subject also had a relationship with a murder of crows

The flock could be seen at sights where victims had been found in woods, and swarmed the capture-spot of SCP-524-S seeming irritated. A few members of the flock attacked personnel

More later….

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*

: ̗̀➛ OMG WAS THIS STUPIDLY ANNOYING TO DO. I was switch between this and preparing Jack’s Masterlist and general head-canons ugh. Anyways eat this up my goofy goobers I’m gonna work on another Toby smut — Ace

-`♡´- tags list: @vanyatas @moriitis @theredservant

[taeaura]

The Hewitts are Hypocritical Religious Cowards - Minor Character Study :)

{Literally just these three but y'know - Monty's sleeping as usual with his lazy ass}

I think Luda Mae fears God; Hoyt doesn't..at least not as much. They were both raised the same, by the same people, in the same environment, of the same religion. But Hoyt was - is, a product of sin, in my interpretation. Hoyt was born of sin and will die of sin; Born to commit the sins of his father. Because of his "predestined" behavior, I think Hoyt views what he's doing as either a form of redemption {for himself and his mother} as well as a final 'fuck you' to God. {Inconsistent ahh religious relationship}

its seems almost as if Charlie views himself as someone who's predisposed to hell. "I was born of sin, I'll die of sin - Might as well have some fun." His experiences in the world most likely drove him away from religion and weakened his faith in God overall - Further fueling this mindset.

In some individuals, religion can develop into a form of psychosis.  I don't think Hoyt has that {on the surface}, but Luda definitely does. I doubt God is going to make you burn for fucking up, Jesus didn't care as long as it was genuine mistake. If he did, everyone would be in hell right now. The only reason Eve was punished is because she prioritized herself and her pleasure over the boundaries of God. That's not the same as messing up, people forget that. But in the case of the Hewitts - They chose the same path as Eve - Just more viciously.

The Hewitts {Hoyt more specifically} prioritized family pride over the lives of other people. They'd rather stay on their land than move away. They'd rather be forgotten by society - Kill and consume outsiders, instead of adapting to another town.

Remember the dinner scene in TCM: The Beginning? Just before Bailey dies, as Chrissie's insulting the family. That right there is the perfect example of the family's philosophy.

C: "I have a question for you, it involves the family tree - the lineage, if you will; So I guess this one's for the table: You guys fuck all your cousins or just the ones you find attractive?"

H: "You blasphemous bitch! This is redemption, lady, that's what this is! Oh, you're all gonna pay for your sins, that's right! And especially you."

Hoyt knows what they're doing is wrong - they all do. Yet they reframe it as "cleansing the world of sin." The mindset "we do what we have to in order to survive."

H: "You starve to death, or survive."

Hoyt views what they're doing as means of survival. They were starving to death - which he explicitly says in the 'first supper' scene

H: "Thanks to the good sheriff here, we ain't gonna go hungry tonight. Matter of fact, we ain't never gonna starve again."

____

Dean deserved to die because he failed his country. His fellow soldiers. Morgan, Kemper, Pepper, Andy, Erin, they all deserved to die for their possession of weed and their disrespect towards the family. Chrissie and Eric deserved it for the same reason. Bailey was with those 'disrespectful draft dodgers.' She was a whore, too - Just as sinful in the eyes of the lord.

stfu Hoyt as if you haven't done worse

Erin and Bailey disrespected Thomas - This would set Luda Mae off so bad. SHE LITERALLY SAID "Get her out of my sight" to Thomas in reference to Erin. She's disgusted by them - Disgusted by anyone who insults her, Thomas, {anyone in the family really}, or God.

L: "I know your kind - Nothing but cruelty and ridicule for my boy, all the time he was growing up. Does anybody care about me and my boy? Huh?"

--

E: "What's wrong with you fucking people?"

H: "Nothing wrong with us..?"

L: "Tommy; Thomas Brown Hewitt, you get in here right now! Get her out of my sight."

--

None of them deserved a second chance. As soon as they stepped onto the property, they solidified their fate. The Hewitts view themselves almost as a necessary evil - Angels of Death, if you will. They kill who they do based on how 'sinful' they are. That includes how they treat the family. {Which I doubt is based on 'respect' being one of God's values - I think it's because of how prideful these people are.}

____

Luda fears God. She fears The Rapture. When Jesus walks the Earth to gather his sheep. The day he waltzes into the Hewitt household taking the form of a 'helpless draft-dodger.' When the molded wallpaper and dusty lace tablecloth aren't enough to hide the rotting carnage, seething beneath the decaying floorboards. As he takes his place at the table, looking down at the family -

"This is redemption, lady, that's what this is! Oh, you're all gonna pay for your sins, that's right! And especially you."

You.

The wailing. The begging. The prayers falsely spoken by your forked tongue.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, honey."

Liar.

A shepherd? No, - Vicious wolves clothed in the skin and cloak of the fallen guardian. Harboring the sheep to their intemperate slaughter - You selfishly feast upon.

Did you feel it?

Do you feel it now?

Whilst the blood spilt from between her legs; Staining your sheets - The same ones Mama's washed over and over for the same selfish reasons.

Rewarding, was it not?

Did the screeches of pain exhort you? - Ravish you. It feels good to take what you deserve.

Except you didn't deserve it; Did you, Charlie.

Not by my teachings - and certainly not by your mother's.

"You poor thing; Sweet mourning lamb. There's nothing you can do - It's already been done."

But she deserved it.

She sinned - Did she not?

And sinners don't deserve patience - Nor do they deserve mercy.

They're vessels possessed by the Devil - You were only doing what's best.

Clearing them out.

And the cowardly - I didn't teach my children to be cowardly, did I? No, I did not. You're not a coward, are you, Charlie? Most certainly not - Not with what you've done to serve your country. No; You're a hero.

Heroes don't rape

Our Hero.

Heroes won't yield

My Hero.

Coward.

And cowards heroes like you deserve a special place in hell Heaven.

____

this is so ass 🙏 #yapville

[punchitmrsulu]

So, here's all the conjectures on Jim's fate in 28 Years Later.

Many of us are choosing to believe the zombie showed in the trailer, despite looking like Cillian Murphy, is not Jim because they most likely wouldn't reveal something like that in the trailer. And maybe that's exactly what they want, to drive people crazy thinking it's him but in the end it won't be.

Also the set pictures of him that have come out so far suggest he's alive and kicking. Those don't confirm the zombie is not Jim for sure because they could still be of flashbacks showing how Jim became the zombie but there's room for hope.

There's also all the references to a "Jimmy" in the trailer, which could be referring to Jim but we don't know in what capacity.

28 Years Later is going to be one of 3 movies, the second of which was shot at the same time as this one, btw. So, many are theorizing Cillian has a supporting role in this one, and will quite possibly just show up at the very end but will be the main character or one of the main characters in the sequel.

When asked if Cillian would return for 28 Years Later, Tom Rothman (Sony Motion Pictures Group chairman) said, "Yes, but in a surprising way and in a way that grows, let me put it that way," which makes the theory above seem even more plausible.

In addition, my sister suggested that Erin Kellyman's character could very well be Jim and Selena's daughter. Which also doesn't confirm Jim is not dead but, at the very least, it would mean they were able to be together for quite a while before shit hit the fan again.

Which brings me to Selena and Hannah's fate. I'm also very worried about what happened to them and there's been absolutely no word about either character being in these movies. They could just be hiding the reveal, which would make total sense, or one or both of them are dead. I'm really hoping that's not the case because the 3 of them were THE found family and it would be very sad for them to have overcome all they did in the first movie just for it all to have amounted to nothing.

Having said that, if any or all 3 of them are indeed dead in these new movies, I just hope it's handled well. If you're going to kill beloved characters it needs to be done the right way and have the proper weight in the story. I hope it's not meaningless and just for shock value.

I trust Danny Boyle and Alex Garland when it comes to storytelling, and Cilian Murphy is executive producing this thing, so I don't think that'll be the case, I think they all care about this story and these characters, but you never know.

It looks like it's going to be an amazing movie regardless of the OGs' actual fate. It seems like it can stand on its own and I'm ridiculously excited for it, I've lost count of how many times I've watched the trailer. But let's pray our babies are handled with the care and love they deserve.

[bonefall]

Stormclan is pretty cool, I’m glad they are a direct result of the clans and not Rouge Group 255674385 that pops up like Minecraft mobs at night

Didn’t ivypool kill beetlewhisker? Will they remember it

The mental image of playing minecraft and Darktail spawns on your roof like a spider, refusing to leave in the daylight and making annoying chittering noises, is magical thank you.

Anyway nah, that was Brokenstar. Ivypool killed Antpelt, not Beetlewhisker. I have doubts they're going to remember that though, and if they do, it'll be one of those "don't worry guys we TOTALLY remember the events in our series!" throwaway lines we've been getting recently. The type that's thought in her head or thrown out in passing, but doesn't significantly contribute to Ivypool's emotional struggle.

I think Ivypool's actually the part of this SE that I'm most apprehensive about, funny enough. StormClan's got me pretty excited, but my hopes kinda started falling when I found out Dovewing was going on the road trip. I do not like the story that the Erins tell between the sisters, and I feel like they keep getting forced together to "reconcile their differences" when it would make a MUCH more effective story for the two of them to not do that.

See, what I like about Ivypool is that she's grudge-holding and spiteful. I LIKE that she tried to leverage her sisterhood with Dovewing in ASC to try and make her manipulate her husband. I find the fact she tried to sabotage SkyClan's chances at the lake back in AVoS to halt Dovewing and Tigerheart's relationship, slighting her apprentice in the process, to be COMPELLING.

I ENJOY reading about Ivypool being nasty. Both a victim of the Dark Forest who was targeted because she felt alienated, and yet, someone who has found a way to use Clan culture's most unfair aspects to her advantage. She'll NEVER see herself as the bully she actually is, because in her eyes, she's permanently the underdog.

so... I just have absolutely no desire to see Dovewing and Ivypool be "close."

Every time it happens on the page, it feels like it's Dovewing desperately wanting her sister to not treat her poorly, or believe in her, or just stop actively sabotaging her life. Then, Ivypool realizes this after a while and displays emotional intelligence that feels unfitting for her character, and apologizes.

It feels forced.

Like it's just happening because the authors know the fans want it, and not actually what these two characters would do. You get me?

I don't want to see them reconnect. I want more bittersweet examples in WC where family members have irreconcilable differences, but now and then, there's that little twinge of love, that old spark that you pray, THIS time, could become a fire... but it doesn't. There's just nothing left to burn.

TL;DR I'm feeling overall meh about Ivypool's Heart but looking forward to seeing what StormClan's all about.

[silvertws]

Heyahay: "so yeah Vast was supposed to be a villain..."

Me:

"WE COULD HAVE HAD VILLAIN VAST?!"

Gods I love the thing that was supposed to happen between Erin and Vast.

Lowekey wanna know moreabout what happened to Erin because I need to draw her being dragged away from the ritual for the Harpy Hare thing but idk when that happened or who or how hold she was so creative freedom it is.

Also.

Villain was it technically og Vast and the one we saw was just redemption arc au Vast :)

Therefore.

(long rambles ahead)

Idk how things were supposed to play out but I can just imagine there would have been more murder involved.

Vast falling in love with Rune could have still happened but WORSE.

What if Rune found out only really late in the series, and was left oblivious for the story.

Remember how magpies can be pretty possessive of their stuff? I can imagine V!Vast being super protective.

Like always on edge and worried that Rune would find out.

But not in the same way our Vast was.

Remember what Vast said? That Rune was the first one he actually saw as a person because he couldn't be considered a target? What about. The only person.

I mean, who cares about everyone else, they're expendable. Useful to fix the obelisk.

But Rune? He's just a guy.

In this version this would have been a toxic relationship.

Like I'm sorry but it would have been.

Very much of a 'facade' moment.

Again Vast is supposed to search for targets but she doesn't want Rune to hate her so... Fake it until you make it.

I feel like a turning point for Vast in this possible arc could be when Viviana (bitch) shows up.

Because someone has come there, threatening to take them away from THEIR mission. Because this was Vast's mission. THEIR area.

Remember when Vast had that first interaction with Erin? Where he acted super protective of the area? Yeah something similar.

He'd kill Viviana for threatening something HIS.

In this au I imagine Vast being a lot colder than our version. Because he kept up the facade for longer.

Another thing that would have helped his redemption arc would have been Atlas.

Because they knew each other already and Vast trusted him. There would have been a really big argument between the two, maybe even a fight where Atlas knocked some sense into her.

Then and only after then Vast would really begin to rethink her situation. This would be right after Viviana's death.

Atlas would find out, maybe even see Vast doing it, a confrontation would start, they fight and then stay away from each other for a couple of days.

Atlas is conflicted because of the feelings he has for Vast and the worry he has that she might still act and think that the avicane is somehow in the right even after what had happened.

Vast would be isolated, thinking about all he had done.

He wouldn't change in like a day, it would take longer than that of course.

I think he would finally manage to get the courage to talk to Atlas again, and the two of them together would bond more as Atlas helped her figure out more about who she wanted to be.

Rune would still be oblivious, but he would have suspicions, I think in this version of the story Viviana would have met Rune when he went to visit Vast. And then spy on him from there on our. Clearly V! Vast didn't like it and stabbed her :D

Everything else would kind of play out the same.

I love the Erin and Vast fight mentioned in the QNA video.

But this is not villain enough is it?

This Vast still gets a redemption.

But I can make it worse :)

If Vast never felt strong enough to cut ties with the avicane.

If after all that I wrote happened he would keep going along with her initial plan.

If he took her mother's side.

If he fought Atlas to the death in the finale because he still believed that the avicane was fixing things.

If when Rune found out he was a member of the Avicane, either from witnessing a murder or being secretly told by Erin, Atlas, Sylph. (In my mind the Sylph thing would happen pretty much the same because Vast would want to keep up the good guy facade)

He would fear Vast and cut ties with them completely.

If Vast was so emotionally destroyed from that that he stopped caring, because the only person he actually cared about was scared of her.

I'm not saying Vast would have been an obsessive partner... But he would have.

He would try anything to get Rune's trust back.

So maybe the reveal could have happened a bit before the Sylph situation.

After that Rune would trust Vast a bit more again, he would tell himself that Vast could still be a good guy.

Boy was he delusional :)

I'm sorry... Did you really think the person who was raised in a cult all his life would simply... Change? Oh ... You poor thing...

I imagine Vast's mom being like "you can keep your little boyfriend... after this is done, I promise this is the last thing I ask of you... So please, be a good son and help me finish this."

Something along those lines.

I have dialogues in mind guys. So much angst.

Anyway in this au Vast dies by the hands of Atlas :D

Very tragic I know... I imagine Rune and Atlas over her as she dies, Atlas feeling a mixture of remorse, pity, anger. Because he couldn't save Calia (Calia?Kalia? Idk) and now he lost Vast too.

Rune would feel... Sadness, he still had feelings for Vast, despite it all, he loved him. The pain he's feeling because he lost another person he loved. After all they had been through. After all the hope he had felt for Vast, hoping he'd see reason.

Idk if in this au Rune Vast and Atlas would be a trouple.

Like, on one hand, I see it. On the other hand, I really don't think Vast would manage to keep either relationship alive.

I definitely think Atlas and Rune would have bonded, maybe after Rune broke it off with Vast he would get closer to Atlas and enter a relationship with him.

‼️DISCLAIMERS‼️

I am not in any way shape or form saying that any of these options would have been better than what actually happened.

This would just have been believable options in an eventual villain Vast situation.

I know toxic relationships aren't great and by writing all of this I don't mean to put them in a good light, because what V!Vast feels, his possessiveness, is WRONG. 🚩🚩

I don't wanna make ANYONE from the cast uncomfortable by writing all of this!

I know I mentioned sensitive topics and I know that when it comes to a Minecraft rp there's only so much you can do and that some topics may be too heavy for the actors who might not want to act in a certain way because it would make them feel super uncomfortable.

If I did I apologize! I hope I didn't break any boundaries. If this makes anyone from the cast uncomfortable I will take this post down because again, this is NOT my intention at all.

If anyone has seen my theories on yt you probably have noticed that I tend to make them pretty grim and more complicated than what ends up happening.

Again, by writing this I don't claim that this would have been a better representation for Vast! Or that I don't like how he was portrayed in the series! I loved her character arc and growth and by no means is this a critique on heyhays acting or writing.

With this being said I hope everyone has a good day :)

[heavyhitterheaux]

Here

See Me Through You Preview

AN: mature themes ahead, preview under the cut

“Y/N? Babe? You feel okay?” Erin asked you as she had pulled you over to the side away from the crowd. Your head felt fuzzy and you leaned on the wall in order to steady yourself.

“No, I… Erin I'm scared. I don't know what's wrong.”

“Okay, we'll figure this out. What did you drink? Did someone give you something?” Erin was trying to get answers out of you since her back had been turned and she had been facing away from you.

“Cameron.” Was all you could get out as you had now slid down the wall in order to sit on the floor.

“Y/N, why the FUCK would you take a drink from him out of all people!? You know he's just as unhinged as Trevor is! They're obviously best friends for a reason! Shit! No, stand up!”

“But I'm tired. Where's Joey?”

“He's not here, but you have got to stay awake.”

Alisha walked up to the two of you and instantly got a look of concern on her face and was confused about what was happening in front of her.

“Uhh? What the fuck is going on? Why is she on the floor?” She asked and Erin turned to see you had slid onto the floor anyway despite her protests.

“Help me get her outside so we can call 911.”

“Joe is about to kill us because of this, well Cameron I should say.”

“And Ja'Marr.”

[areyouwell]

Necrophobia

Noun: An extreme and irrational fear of death. Those with this condition will do anything to avoid their own death or the death of somebody they love. But in the end, death is inevitable.

Ch.8, Ch.7, Ch.6, Ch.5.5, Ch.5, Ch.4, Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1 <–

Ch.9

Pairing: Mutant!Reader x Logan Howlet

Warnings: strap in and strap on folks, it's gonna be a long one... MDNI

Word Count: 29.7k (y'all wanted this as one chapter sooooo)

A/N: i actually can't believe this is it. like, this is the end of Phobophobia... how crazy is that? thank you all so much for the love and support on this series, it's been a while since i got back into fic writing so it means so much that you've all been reading along. i read and cherish every single one of your comments and reblogs, and now the only thing left to say is LET'S. FUCKING. GO.

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside @justice4billiam @holyhumorliteraturelight @cxptainbuck @sseleniaa @sadslasher13 @yallgotkik @whyamistillontumbler @maddiedinosaur @bethexo07 @pwpwppeepeoor @y08h

It would be two days later before you and Morgana could convince Erin there was no threat here, and that she was safe. Another day for her to be comfortable enough to let Charles come anywhere near her, let alone bring her memories back. 

“Give her time, darlin’. She’s terrified.” Logan would remind you, only to fuel your frustration. You didn’t have time. You needed her help to get Rowan and the others back, and the longer she refused to restore her memories, the more danger he was in. 

You sighed heavily after the umpteenth time Logan reminded you, leaning on the balcony overlooking the gardens. He’d found you pacing back and forth, clearly trying to remind yourself that Erin was just how you were before you had your memories. She was scared and alone and you didn’t know how to convince her she wasn’t. Erin was never your speciality. Atlas usually could get through to her, but he was still with Kreva, like Rowan, Joes and Naji.

Logan took his position by your side, leaning his forearms against the stone wall of the balcony, his bicep brushing against yours as you leaned your head on his shoulder, exhaling a breath. “I know she is. We all were. But fuck, this is taking too long, Lo’. We haven’t even started planning for the mission and it’s already been too long. I just…” you trailed off, gazing into the middle distance as your mind wandered back to your brother. He would always seem so big and protective outside the experiments, but you couldn’t count how many times you had to act out to protect him when the white, overhead lights hummed to life in those observation chambers. How many times had you taken the hits for him, just for him to be used against you as persuasion? 

Logan’s arm lifted to wrap around your shoulders, tucking you safely into his side. “I know, but Kreva won’t kill him. If anything, he’ll use him as bait to lure you back.” The idea had his stomach churning, because there was very little that could convince you to return other than to save Rowan, and he was almost certain that’s why Kreva sent Joes to retrieve just him. Because the bastard knew you wouldn’t leave him behind. He knew you’d go back for him. If it was just Naji, Joes and Atlas, perhaps you would trust their rescue to the rest of the team. But Rowan was your brother. Your flesh and blood. He’d been with you since the start.

You weren’t going to abandon him. Everyone knew that. 

“Would you lock me away if I said it would work?” You asked with a half-hearted smile, and he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, rubbing his hand against your shoulder. 

“Most likely.” He responded, revelling in your little bubbles of laughter. Just the weight of his arm around you was enough to ease some of the anxiety that had been your constant companion since waking up, the ever-present fear of what was going on beyond the walls of the school keeping you up at night. But Jade was right about one thing. 

You weren’t alone. Not anymore. Almost every waking moment Logan was by your side, keeping a watchful eye and jumping at the opportunity to provide for you. His warm embrace kept you sane even into the wee hours of the morning, never failing to stay awake with you when you had trouble sleeping. And these last few nights hadn’t been the most restful of your life. 

He could see it. Just how exhausted you were. You still had to regain the muscle you’d lost in the last two months, but that wasn’t what concerned him most. It was the dark purple bruises beneath your eyes that had him staying up with you, stroking your hair and engaging in murmured conversations until you’d finally fall asleep. Only to wake up an hour or so later, and take yet another lifetime to fall back asleep, by which point it was already morning and time for the two of you to start the day.

It was how he’d spent the last two nights with you, with you settled against his chest, staring at nothing in particular, talking about absolutely anything. It was a delicious slice of normalcy, certainly, but it worried him how little you were sleeping. And how hard you were training to get back to your muscular physique of before. He hadn’t seen you cook once, either. Though he supposed it had only been a few days, and it wasn’t like you had buckets of time to spare, between your lack of sleep, nutrition and overexerting yourself…

He didn’t really know what to do. What issue to tackle first. 

“You think any louder and Charles is gonna wonder what the hell’s going on,” you prodded lightly, nudging his side with your elbow. “How’re you holding up? We’ve spoken a shit ton about me but now it’s your turn,” Logan opened his mouth to tell you it didn’t matter, but you instantly cut him off, a glare sharpening your typical gaze of adoration. “And don’t lie. I mean it, Lo’. Let me in.” You placed a hand on the centre of his chest and he sighed heavily, clutching it in his own calloused palm.

“No lies?” He asked with a raised brow as if asking whether or not you really wanted this.

“No lies.” Your determined nod solidified that you were there for him, that you wanted to know how he was doing in the vague, possibly slightly selfish hope that it would make you feel a little better, or that perhaps there was a way you could help in some way, which would also make you feel better. 

“Total honesty?”

“Logan!”

“Okay, okay,” he huffed a laugh at your incredulous tone. He was stalling, to be completely honest. He didn’t want to open up about how this whole thing had affected him because he was so damn scared of making you feel worse, or, god fucking forbid, that you weren’t worth it. But he also knew you couldn’t stand lies. You’d had enough of those in your life, so the one thing he could give you now was honesty. Raw, weeping honesty. “I uh– It’s rare that I’m scared of anythin’. It’s happened, sure, but not often,” he ran a hand through his hair, and your thumb smoothed soft caresses against the centre of his chest. “But I don’t think I’ve been more afraid than when I thought I’d lost you for good,” his words came out a jumbled, murmured mess, but you caught them nonetheless. “An’ this ain’t over yet. We gotta go back for the others and ‘m fuckin’ terrified it’s a trap.”

“Logan…” you breathed his name with a sigh, resting your cheek next to the hand you held over his heart. His arms encased you in a home of pine-scented sinew, warmth seeping into your very bones.

“I don’t wanna lose you.” He whispered into your hair, and your heart cracked a little.

“I can’t say you won’t, because I don’t know what’s going to happen and I don’t wanna lie to you. I don’t know what we’ll find when we go back or how things will go down,” you paused, raising your head so your chin pressed into the dip between his pectorals. “But I can say, it’s certainly not my intention to die sooooo–”

“That makes me feel so much better.” He rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his tone as the vibrations of your laughter invaded his chest, causing a chain reaction within his soul. 

You let the hushed silence of the clouded late afternoon blanket the two of you, content to bask in his presence after being deprived for so long. He was everything to you. He’d been by your side ever since you’d laid eyes on each other, even if you weren’t the easiest person to get to open up. He’d forgiven you for lashing out. He’d forgiven you for trying to kill him. He’d forgiven you for everything you’d done before. You didn’t think there was anything you wouldn’t do for him, and his actions towards you proved the same. 

“Besides,” you continued after a little while, flexing your fingers ever so slightly, the shadows on the ground responding with obedience you hadn’t experienced in a long time. “I got all corners of my mutation back, so I’d like to see Kreva try anything, the sleazy little fuckstick.” From the silhouette of the balcony rose one of those figures Logan had seen you conjure in your sleep, though this time it wasn’t looking at you with any kind of intention. Rather it seemed to be waiting for your command, standing unnervingly still, shadows rising like smoke from its corporeal body. 

“That’s one less thing to worry ‘bout. Not gonna wake up to you having dissolved on me.” He shrugged, watching intently as the figure raised its hand ominously toward the two of you. Logan bristled, holding you tighter and turning you slightly, his teeth bared. He thought you had control of your mutation now, why the fuck was it–

That extended fist rotated to the side before giving him a thumbs up. 

“Gotcha.” You grinned wickedly, the figure dissipating back into the shadows and Logan looked down at you with utter disbelief, the smirking satisfaction on your face singing to his very core. Wordlessly, he picked you up, delighting in your squeal of surprise, holding you suspended above him like he would a misbehaving puppy. 

“Jail time.” Was all he said, holding you firmly as you squirmed in his grip, breathless bubbles of laughter bursting from your chest.

“Put– put me down, Logan. M’not– a dog.” You managed to gasp through fits of giggling, reaching down to hold his arms to steady yourself. 

“I could just drop ya.” He mused, unable to stem the smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Don’t you dare.” It was tricky to glare at him when thrilled adrenaline coursed through your system and you could barely stop laughing. Logan quirked a brow, pretending to debate whether or not it was a good idea to just let you go and watch you hit the floor, before his slight smirk grew to a full-blown grin, and his hands disappeared from your body.

You barely had a second to register your stomach launching into your throat, a frisson of excitement spiking through your system as you lurched down. Though you didn’t fall far until his arms caught you beneath your thighs, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, elbows hooked around his neck.

“Gotcha.” He mimicked your exact tone from not moments ago, and you huffed a breath against the side of his neck, still clinging on. Not out of fear he would drop you, but just because you could. You were here, you were back, and you remembered every perfect detail of the eight months you’d spent with him before Kreva snatched you away.

Withdrawing from the side of his neck, you brushed a stray dark hair from his forehead, glowing as he leant into your touch, your hand sliding to cup the side of his face, fingers gently scratching through his beard, drinking in every peak and valley of his features, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the quirk of his lips, the pinch of his brows. You devoured his visage as if it were the first time you laid eyes upon him. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He murmured, and you felt your heart swell three times its size. You didn’t know just how badly you’d missed him. Only since waking up again did you feel an empty ache in your chest in the rare moments he wasn’t by your side, only feeling whole again when he returned. It was overwhelming, your sheer love for him, your insides squeezing to make room for the remarkable amount of adoration you held for him. 

Logan panicked slightly when your eyes started to sparkle with unshed tears, fearful he may have said the wrong thing, or something that reminded you of the two months with him you’d just lost, but his heart settled when your lips moulded against his, your thumb smoothing his cheekbone with every languid movement. He held you tighter, his arms crushing you against his body as if at any moment he’d wake up, you’d be gone, and this was nothing but a dream. 

But you didn’t disappear, not as your lips parted for him and you sighed into his mouth, your arm shifting back around his neck to meet him with equal strength, your nails combing the back of his hair soothingly as if you could read his mind just as easily as Charles or Jean, feeling his fears and reminding him you were here. You were back. And you weren’t leaving him anytime soon. 

Pulling back a fraction, your breaths fanned his lips with each exhale, before your hushed words had his whole world igniting.

“I love you, Logan.” Your eyes shone with earnest as his gaze flickered between them as if searching for the indication that this really was nothing but a dream. 

He thought he’d have to die before he heard those words again. 

Fearful that his voice would crack if he responded, he set you down so he could thread his fingers through your hair and kiss you again with as much love as he felt in his soul, gasping through his nose when your fingers grazed up the sides of his ribs, muscles tensing beneath your tickling touch. 

“Sorry to interrupt your disgusting display of a happy relationship,” Logan almost growled in irritation at the sudden intrusion, reluctantly pulling away from you to raise eyes of daggers at Morgana’s smirking face, her arms folded across her chest as if she’d just caught two teenagers making out behind the bleachers at school. “But we’re gonna try again with Erin, not to convince her of anything, just to talk to her. Need your help,” she paused, gesturing to the both of you. “If you’re all done here, that is.”

You snorted a laugh at Logan’s irate furrow of his brow, and you knew it was taking a lot of his self-control not to bare his damn teeth at her. You placed a placating hand against the centre of his chest, feeling is heartbeat settle a tad before nodding to the redhead. “Sure thing. I’ll be right there.”

Satisfied with your answer, Morgana cast one last faux disgusted glance in the minimal space between you and Logan, before turning on her heel, her hair bouncing as she returned back inside. 

“The hell you will,” he seethed, his grip shifting from the side of your neck to your waist, holding you tightly. You flashed him a crooked smile, patting his chest gently.

“I doubt it’ll be a long conversation. Besides, I’ll see you for dinner, kay?”

“You’ll see me before dinner, darlin’.” 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Your smile twisted into something a lot more mischievous, and Logan almost groaned aloud at the thought of what he’s now definitely going to do to you later.

“Why can’t it be both?” He responded, matching the lust dusting your tone. You bit your tongue behind your teeth, taking a step back before you cracked beneath his gaze and offered yourself to him then and there.

“You’re filthy, Howlett.”

“You love it.”

With a subdued chuckle, you turned away from him intending to follow Morgana to help her with Erin, before Logan’s broad hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged you back into him, not even giving you time to blink before his lips were on your in a lingering, passionate kiss. 

“I love you too.” He whispered, and you didn’t even try to tame your smile before he let you go, choosing to stay out in the fresh air a little longer, mainly to cool himself off. You had such a gift in riling him up that it was always difficult to hold himself back when he couldn’t have his way with you, so he opted to remain outside, erasing the risk of following you and throwing you over his shoulder to take you upstairs. 

“See you in a bit.” You pecked the corner of his mouth briefly before actually managing to get more than two steps away from him, the buzz of anticipation fading in your veins as you headed back through the doors inside, only half expecting him to race after you and do exactly what he promised.

“Surprised I could pull you away from your man for longer than three seconds.” Morgana grinned as you strode down the hallway, seeing her waiting outside Erin’s room, leaning against the doorframe with her arms still folded. You rolled your eyes dramatically.

“We’re not joined at the hip, but I was robbed of the last two months with him so excuse me if I’m a little clingy.” You shot her a faux glare, cut short by the way her face split with a toothy grin. 

“I’m messing with you. It’s real nice actually. I only ever saw snippets of you like this with Jade before you’d revert back to whatever emotionless shell you needed to be so I’m not complaining. Just jealous he got there before I did,” she winked and you slapped her arm with a light chuckle. 

This was the usual dynamic between you and Morgana, having lighthearted, occasionally flirty banter whilst living your ‘lives’ until you’d be taken for experiments. It was rare Kreva would take the both of you, but when he did, you always gave him one hell of a fight back. 

Maybe that was why he would usually separate the two of you. “So,” you continued, leaning opposite her against the doorframe. “What’s the plan this time? Since the last fifty conversations with her haven't worked, you got a new special approach? Or is this just gonna be failure number fifty-one?” 

Morgana placed a hand on her heart dramatically, her mouth falling agape as if you’d just insulted her meticulously preened appearance. “Okay, first of all, we’ve only tried like, what, five times max? Second of all, did you really think I’d drag you from your boyfriend for no reason and risk waking up with several claws stuck in my stomach? Fuck no. Of course I have a plan…” She paused, and you narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “Or… I will have a plan. When I think of one.”

“Morgo…” you sighed tiredly, dragging a hand down the side of your face. 

“Look, I can’t do this by myself. If Atlas was here, we could just hand this whole thing over to him and be done with it. But he’s not here, and we need Erin’s help to get him back. And Rowan. And Naji and Joes. And we don’t exactly have a cheat code when it comes to her like we did with you.”

“The fuck do you mean ‘cheat code’?” you asked defensively, a little insulted at the way she looked at you as if it was obvious. “Oh Logan is not a cheat code, that’s so unfair!” you protested avidly, pouting when she gave you another one of her looks. 

“We can talk about your complete lack of self-awareness at a later date,” you had half the mind to slap the girl. “And about the fact you somehow managed to back one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen in my life. Your descriptions did not do him justice, by the way.” She wiggled her brows and you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Can you stop thirsting over my partner, please?”

“What’s sex with him like?”

“Morgo!”

“Okay okay, I’ll stop,” she held her hands up in surrender, though her wicked grin didn’t fade in any way. “Fucking gatekeeping, so mean. Throw a girl a bone here… literally.”

“Oh my god.” You groaned, pushing up from the wall to slap your hand over her mouth. Unfortunately, she anticipated and nimbly stepped back before you could even approach her. 

“I can hear you guys outside… if you’re going to come in just do it already,” Erin called from behind the door. The poor girl sounded utterly exhausted, and your heart broke as you imagined her inside, most likely curled up in a corner, surrounded by nothing but hard, dead wood. Useless for her mutation. 

You cast Morgana a sheepish glance, an expression she mirrored, before unlocking the door and stepping through a little hesitantly. They’d made special precautions with her the same way they had with you. A lack of windows meant she had no sightline to the copious greenery beyond the mansion’s walls. All and any plant life had been removed from the room just to make absolutely certain she had no way of escape. It hurt, but you knew it was necessary. 

Necessary evils. How many times have you heard that phrase and genuinely believed it?

“Hey Woods…” Morgana uttered quietly, hoping in vain not to startle the girl. Not that either of you had even seen her yet. She seemed to be hiding somewhere amongst the furniture, or maybe under the bed. It hadn’t been the first time she’d hidden from either of you. “We don’t wanna try convince you of anything. We just wanna chat…” she continued warily, creeping around the side of the bed to where you both assumed she’d curled up. “We’re your friends, Erin. We don’t wanna– huh?”

Morgana stopped when she peered around the double bed to see nothing but empty space. You sidled into the ensuite, nudging open the door a fraction only to once again be met with nothing. “Erin, where’re you–”

You were cut off by the sound of hurrying feet behind you, the slamming of the door, and the click of the lock, barely having enough time to whirl around before you registered your absolute idiocy. 

“You’re fucking joking…” Morgana spat, crossing back to the door Erin had just locked behind her. “Very funny Woods, glad to see you’re feeling better. Now let us out.” She huffed, trying not to let her irritation seep through her voice. Though nothing but silence greeted her from the other side. Morgana tugged at the door a few times, but the oak refused to yield. Defeatedly, she took a step back, throwing you an apologetic glance, before her foot collided with the centre of the panels.

“Fucking ow!” She recoiled to your inappropriate amusement. She shot you a look darker than before. “I’m not the brawler okay? I don’t tackle shit as strong as this.” 

Rolling your eyes skyward, you flicked off the light switch before placing a hand on her shoulder wordlessly. Morgana’s eyes widened as panic flooded her face. “Nononono I hate it when you do this. Can’t you just sift outta here and unlock the door for me?” She pleaded, already skittish before you’d even partially dragged her into the shadow with you.

“Nope. Don’t have the time. It’ll only be two seconds. Promise.” You actually had no idea how long it was going to be, seeing as most of the mansion was drenched it light around this time of the afternoon, but you knew which room this was. And you knew the room above it. 

And it was rare that the room had much light in it at all. 

Not giving her a word of warning, you kept a firm grip on her shoulder as you pulled the both of you into the shadows, pulling on the strings of darkness to keep her consciousness with your own.

With the corporeal world nothing but the stark contrast between light and shadow, you felt your way upwards, through the little cracks between the ceiling and the floor above, weaving up through the crevices in the floorboards. You weren’t expecting the room to have so little options for where to materialise again, your consciousness writhing with the surprise of the bedside lamp being on. But you chose the dark corner by the wardrobe, pulling both yourself and Morgana through the various shadows across the floor and into the sizeable darkness against the wall. 

“Jesus Christ!” 

The last Logan had heard, you’d followed Morgana in the hopes of convincing Erin she wasn’t in any danger here. So he couldn’t contain the shock you gave him when you melted into his room from the corner, a dishevelled-looking redhead by your side. Were you trying to kill him? 

“Nope, just me. Sorry Lo’, didn’t mean to scare ya.” Though from the subdued grin pulling at your lips, he knew you definitely found no small amount of amusement in taking him off guard. 

You managed to suppress your light chuckle at his incredulous expression, choosing instead to tend to your friend who seemed to be struggling majorly with a bad case of motion sickness.

“Ugh… I don’t understand how you do that so often… I think I’d off myself if that was my mutation…” she managed to grit, holding her stomach as if she was about to throw up. You pointed her toward the bathroom just in case as Logan stood from his extremely comfortable position on his bed.

“Though you were talkin’ some sense into Erin. What went wrong?” His first instinct was that, immediately upon entering the room, Erin had most likely thrown something at the two of you and you’d retreated to rethink a strategy.

Though the silence after his query was deafening.

“She uh, she got out.”

Oh. Nevermind. This was a deafening silence. Logan swore he could hear your blood cells in your veins the room fell so quiet. “Whaddya mean ‘she got out’?” 

“Oldest trick in the book. One of the ones I tried and failed on you. Told us to come in, hid behind the door and bolted when we were far enough in the room.” You explained flatly, lifting Morgana’s hair from the back of her neck in an attempt to stem her queasiness. 

Logan swore lowly, instinctively checking you for injuries despite the fact you’d just reformed yourself from the shadow. He couldn’t stop himself. “Does Charles know?”

“The whole mansion will know in a moment. If she’s managed to get outside, it’s only a matter of time until–”

Almost as if Morgana was speaking the circumstance into existence, the entire room started to shake. No. Not just the room. The whole school seemed to shudder and groan, the sound of splitting wood resonating throughout the hallways and dorms, and you dragged Morgana back as a huge, knotted vine bloomed up from the corner, leaves sprouting as the vegetation started its takeover of the space. 

“Shit…” You hissed, bolting to the window and seeing the cause of the destruction. Greenery thrived around Erin, her arms outstretched towards the mansion, dolphin-fins of roots rising and resubmerging into the ground toward the building, veins of gnarled ivy spiderwebbing up the outside of the walls, sneaking in through the cracks between windowpanes and brickwork, before growing exponentially. The realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. 

She was trying to bring down the school. 

You flipped up the latch of the window before throwing open the panes and shoving your head through the leaves, your skin itching slightly as you realised it was no regular ivy. Not with the three-lobed points on most leaves, the slightly waxy texture of the surface. It was fucking poisonous. 

Of course it was.

You managed to set your jaw against the instant discomfort, pushing your way through until you could see the ground beneath. Shrouded in shadow. Good enough for you. You pulled back, only to feel a slight constriction against your throat from a snaking vine around your neck. You hissed at it tightened, flexing your tendons as if you could break free with sheer strength alone. But you succeeded only in tightening its hold, your airways becoming dangerously closed off. Thrusting your arms back through the new forest of the window, you held out your hand in desperation, instantly feeling the rough, calloused palm of Logan grasping your wrist.

You hadn’t given him time to ask what the hell you thought you were doing before you’d been completely shrouded in greenery, and the moment he saw your hand back through the expanding knots of vines, he was by your side, claws slicing through his knuckles as he started to slash and swipe at the writhing snakes. His arm wrapped around your middle, the razor tip of his claw dangerously close to your jugular as he tried to surgically remove the constraint, only to find himself being pulled in with you, itching leaves winding up his forearm and over his bicep.

Breathing became difficult, the lack of oxygen making your brain hazy and your movements slow. You felt like you were trying to inhale through a straw after running a marathon, every part of your exposed skin itching and burning from even slight contact with the leaves, red rashes already rising around your face and neck. You hadn’t really thought she’d try to kill you, or anyone for that matter. In all honesty, you saw this as a desperate attempt to stall everyone before she made a run for it. Not kill everyone inside the goddamn school. Your oxygen-starved mind sluggishly thought to the kids in their classrooms, how terrified they must be, and you fucking hoped Storm or Scott had already started evacuating them as your vision started to tunnel slightly, your mouth agape in a futile attempt to draw breath. 

“C’mon…” Logan groaned with effort as he managed to wrench his arm free of the vines, nicking the side of your shoulder with his claws as he did. He didn’t have time for the instant, overwhelming feeling of guilt before he started desperately slashing again to get you free. Silver clashed with emerald with each savage claw until a soft hand got in his way, blood splattering across the wall. 

“Fuck! Those things are fucking sharp!” Morgana cried out, scarlet leaking from the deep slice across the back of her hand. Logan looked at her as if she’d completely lost her mind. 

“The fuck’re you doing?!”

To his chagrin, she just rolled her eyes, before the rivulets of blood running down her arm started to rise and expand, weaving through the now all-consuming wall of poison, staining the beige vines deep red. In his panic, he’d completely forgotten her mutation. It was deliberate. Her getting in the way. It had been on purpose. Understanding her plan, he sheathed his claws and wrapped his other arm around your middle, his grip like steel as, all at once, a sheet of blood exploded from just beyond the window, slicing through the snaking tendrils, useless ends falling lifeless to the floor.

Like a drowned man rescued from the water, you gasped a deep inhale, feeling yourself be tugged backwards from the crimson display and into a tight embrace that was, whilst unhelpful for your breathing, extremely helpful for your panic. You’d have been humiliated if you’d survived everything Kreva had put you through only to die became Erin was too fucking stubborn for her own good. 

“Y’okay?” Logan asked, concern dripping from his voice as he smoothed your hair from your face, wincing as he caught sight of the angry rashes around your neck and across your collarbones, winding up to frame the sides of your cheeks and brow. You couldn’t stop your nails dragging across the unholy itching in an attempt to soothe it, pulling loose bits of skin as you scratched fruitlessly. 

“Shadows…” your voice was raspy, and you felt like you’d swallowed a bag of nails, a bolt of pain shooting through your vocal cords as you tried to speak again. “Need shadow.”

Logan shifted into the path of the lamp and you dissolved into his silhouette instantly, returning only a beat later looking no worse for wear, though fury furrowed your brow and had your jaw tense. 

“Y’okay?” He asked again, only this time he felt a sense of calm seeing you unhurt. Your rage intimidated him only a little, but at least you were breathing this time. 

“M’fine. Fucking bitch. The fuck does she think she’s doing?” You seethed, casting a glare out the now-covered window as if you could kill her with your mind. Morgana huffed abruptly, still in control of the stained glass made of her own blood. 

“What exactly was your plan there? Or was almost suffocating to death a way of trying to get her to see what she the consequences of her actions?” She asked savagely, sliding her now glowing eyes to you and you could feel her irritation at your actions. 

“I was trying to see if I had a quicker way down to her. And I did, until she tried to fucking kill me.” You braced your hand around your throat as if you could still feel the constrictions around your neck. 

Seeing your phantom discomfort, Logan brushed the back of his hand against the one on your throat, a silent reminder that you were safe again. You laced your fingers between his, another silent way of communicating your gratitude, before once again returning to look beyond Morgana’s barrier. 

Unspoken agreement passed between the room, Morgana leading the way as the three of you sped down the stairs, shouting to any passersby to use the passage and get the hell out of there. You almost collided into a panicking Artie, clutching a small stuffed toy in his hands as he looked around desperately for Jubilee. At least you assumed he’d be looking for Jubilee, she’d taken on the role of protector for the boy, though not being that much older herself. 

You crouched and enveloped him in a tight hug, relieved to see he was unharmed. Though through the rushing crowds, it was difficult to make out specific faces. Until a shock of white hair bobbed through the heads of students, Storm managing to fight her way through the throng and in your direction. 

“How did this happen?” She asked by way of greeting, taking Artie from your arms and tucking him into her side. Shame and guilt tightened your gut. You couldn’t help but interpret her question differently. How could you let this happen?

“She got passed us,” Morgana stepped in, placing a hand on your shoulder and no doubt feeling exactly the same as you. “We weren’t careful enough. But we’re gonna fix it. We’re gonna fix this. We just need to get out there.” She nodded to the covered window where you knew the source was. Ororo sighed gravely.

“There’s only two ways this can go. Make sure it’s option one.” Was all she said, before guiding Artie down the hall and disappearing into the thinning crowd. At least most students had managed to get out, though you could only pray none of them had touched the leaves. You clenched your jaw, Storm’s words sinking in. 

She was right. There were only two possible ways this could go. You could convince her she was safe here, and that you all really were trying to get back and rescue the others.

Or you had to kill her. 

A glance at Morgana told you she’d realised the same, her eyes staring unblinkingly at the floor as she processed what the two of you might have to do if you couldn’t get through to her. “It won’t come to that.” You tried, but it was hard to sound convincing when you weren’t entirely convinced yourself. 

But she went along with your false confidence, choosing instead to gaslight herself right alongside you. “Yeah… it won’t.”

It broke Logan’s heart to see your desperation to fix things. To see the guilt etched into the crease of your brow. Broke him further as he watch the both of you understand that you might really have to kill her. You were torn between trying to save your old family and protecting your new one, he could feel it in his own damn soul. 

You couldn’t be battling with yourself like this right now. You didn’t have the fucking time. People were getting hurt and it was your own damn fault. And the familiarity of the situation flipped something in your brain. All at once, the hesitation you’d been feeling disappeared. Concern faded away. Fear locked up. You had a damn job to do. 

“Cut through the vines like before.” You instructed Morgana, steel icing your tone as you weaved through the stragglers, making a beeline for the double doors that normally would have led out into the gardens. Only right now they led into a wall of vines. 

“I uh– yeah, s-sure.” Logan watched recognition dawn on Morgana’s features, a deep sadness flickering in her eyes as she used her fingernail to reopen the wound on the back of her hand, hissing slightly at the hurt, before blood rose from the gash and seeped beneath the door, solidifying and slicing the climbing vines at the base, creating an opening for you. 

With a flick of your wrist, eight separate figures rose from the shadows around you, gliding to your side and waiting with obedient anticipation. Logan’s stomach dropped as darkness slid up your leg, across your abdomen and settled over your face, solidifying in a glassy, thin mask. Morgana gasped weakly, shaking her head at your new visage in a way that had a kernel of concern bubble in Logan’s chest. 

“I’m sorry if I have to kill her.” There was nothing apologetic in your tone. If anything, it sounded like you were completely devoid of emotion, lacking both empathy and compassion for your best friend as you stepped through the threshold and onto the balcony, your shadows following like dogs. 

“Is this–” He started before Morgana cut him off. 

“How she was before? Yeah…” She confirmed quietly, splitting her concentration between maintaining her mutation and watching you jump nimbly from the balcony onto the grass, striding toward Erin, your shadows in tow. “This was how she coped. All those missions. All those victims. This was how she kept going. It wasn’t solid, and she would break sometimes, but she’d just get better at it. And who’s better at hiding than someone who’s made of the dark?” 

His chest constricted with the realisation that, in the relief and disbelief that he really had you back, he hadn’t truly processed everything you’d remembered. You hadn’t been given the time before you launched straight into trying to help the girl you now might have to kill. And when you released your emotions again, when you let down that wall and they all flooded in, he couldn’t stand by and watch as you relived the moment you ended her life. 

He promised he would keep you safe, and he failed. He promised he wouldn’t leave you, and he’d failed. 

But he’d promised he’d find you. And he promised he’d protect you. Even if that meant from yourself. 

“Stay here, help them in any way you can.” He told her, before following where you’d leapt from the balcony. If he could save you the emotional turmoil of having to kill Erin, he would. And if that meant he had to kill her himself and have you hate him forever, he’d be okay with that. But you’d been through enough shit, you’d been made to feel like a monster because of the things you were forced to do.

Not this time. 

“ERIN!” Your voice echoed off the trees, bouncing back to you as you strode toward her, eight smoky figures fanning out behind you, the manifestation of each member of your family. Their heads twitched skittishly as if understanding their purpose in the situation, waiting for the command to rip. To tear. To wreak havoc.

Erin’s outstretched hands faltered, her eyes focussing back to you as the snakelike roots halted, the blooming of flowers and weeds around her feet stalled. She bit back a bitter laugh.

“All this time. You’ve been tryna convince me they helped you. They saved you. But look at you. You’re worse now than when we were back with the others. You tell me Kreva did some fucked up shit to us, which I can fucking smell is bullshit,  but look at what they’ve done to you.” 

Her words fell washed over you like water from a duck’s back, ignoring every pathetic attempt to make you feel bad about what you were. You felt the pull on the threads of your puppets, felt their yearning to make her suffer for what she’d said, but you held them back, tightened their leashes until they came to heel. 

“This was always who I was, Erin. I’ve only changed from your perspective because you don’t know who you are. Who any of us are. Not really Do you really think we spent the last ten years living in harmony? Going to work, coming home, meeting the neighbours, drinking and watching movies? People like us don’t get to have that life.” You were losing patience already. If she wasn’t going to calm down and come to her senses, you’d have to neutralise the threat. The figures shuddered with excitement. 

“Do you know how fucking crazy you sound? When you’re trying to tell me the last twenty years of my life have been a lie? Naji replaced all our memories? He wouldn’t do that,” She shouted desperately, roots and vines around her feet snaking and writhing in response. “Whatever happened to the flat… what happened to Atlas… I can’t explain it. But if we go back, if we go back and just talk to whoever that was, he’ll set them free… He has to…” she pleaded, and you took a steady step forward. “That’s why I have to do this. I can’t abandon him. I have to help them, but I have to help them now. I don’t trust these people. I don’t know these people. Look what they’ve done to you. To Morgana. I can’t let them do the same to me. Not whilst he’s still in danger.”

You tensed your jaw against the sudden wave of melancholy that broke through your walls, pushing it back as hard as you could, your face falling neutral again behind the mask of shadow. “What do you think we’re trying to do here? He’s got Rowan, Erin. He’s got my fucking brother. And I know the kinds of things Kreva will do to him because I remember. That’s what we’re trying to help you to do. To remember so we can form some kind of plan. But if we have to do this without you,” You paused, raising your hand slightly. “So be it.”

Before you can flick your wrist, a large, calloused hand wrapped around your palm, stopping you in motion. 

“Don’t,” Logan growled lowly, though there was no threat in his voice. You clenched your jaw again, testing his strength only to find your wrist held fast in his grip. “This is not what we do.”

You shook your head. “No. This isn’t what you do. You wanted to know what would change when I remembered. Here it is.” You raised your other hand, quickly flicking your wrist before he could catch it, and eight figures walked forward, heads twitching as they went. 

“Call them off.”

“She’s a threat.”

“Call. Them. Off.” He urged, eyes hardening. “Now.” He could see your eyes flicker behind the mask as if something was fighting to get through. You glanced back to where Erin had crouched, arms outstretched in preparation to fight back. She was a threat. The mansion was under attack.

And it was all because of you. 

“I have to put a stop to this.” Your steely voice started to bend, cracks peaking through the shell. Logan caught it instantly, tugging on that small thread you’d left exposed.

“Not like this. You don’t wanna do it like this. Call them off, Firefly.” He heard your breathing stutter, eyes widening as the mask from your face melted away. He dropped your hand, his palm sliding up the side of your neck to cup your face, acutely aware of how close the shadows were to Erin’s location. “Not like this.” He muttered softly, and your resolve shattered. You lowered you hand, splaying your fingers as the figures dissolved into nothing, returning from their positions back up the balcony and through the door where you pulled them from. 

“I–”

“It’s okay. I know. I know.” He pulled you in, cupping the back of your held to hold you beneath his chin, his fingers coursing through your hair, a strong sense of comforting calm soothing the sudden, immense wave of guilt. 

“This is real… isn’t it?” Erin asked quietly, her own resolve seemingly breaking apart. You cracked your eyes open, pulling back ever so slightly to look at her exhausted form, nodding in confirmation. 

“Yeah. This is real. We haven’t lied to you, Erin. We wouldn’t lie to you. Not about this. Not about your life. Who you are. You’ve had enough lies told to you. And Charles can help you sift through what was real and what wasn’t. Just let us help you.” You implored, stepping from Logan’s embrace and toward her, holding out your hand in an entirely different way to before. “Please. You’re my family, Erin. Let me help you.” 

Her toxic green hair fell in front of her face as her head dropped, small sobs shaking her shoulders, and you were by her side as her knees buckled, arms around her frame before she fell to the floor. 

“It sucks. I know. We both know, me and Morgana. We know, but it gets easier. It’ll get easier once you remember. I promise.” Despite the horrors of your own past, it had gotten easier once you were restored. You knew who you were, and you’d come to terms with the things you’d done. You know Morgana had too. And you knew Erin would be the same. 

“‘Morgana and I’…” she corrected weakly, and you raised a brow.

“Huh?”

“It’s Morgana and I. ‘Not me and Morgana’.”

You chuckled slightly. “Well excuse me grammar police.” Your heart soared as she hiccuped a laugh, raising her head to look at you, her eyes shining, tears staining the sides of her cheeks. 

“I’m sorry…”

You offered her an empathetic smile, your brows creasing. “I know. We all are. For everything. Remembering isn’t easy, and it’ll fuck you up for a few hours, but you’ll be okay.” You brought her into your embrace, soothing gentle caresses against her shoulder. “We all will. And we’re gonna get the others back too. I promise.”

“You make a lot of promises now.”

“Cuz I know I can keep ‘em.” You felt her laugh again, sniffing into your collar before removing herself from your arms and standing up. 

“Guess I should probably do something about that…” You turned back to where she was looking at the mansion, overtaken with greenery and wrapping vines, briefly catching Logan’s proud gaze on you. 

“And easy fix. Don’t worry. We have telekinetics for this kinda thing.” You shrugged, getting to your feet as Erin raised her palms, the school creaking with relief as the invasive vines snaked back into the earth with a slight hiss. The moment they disappeared from the doorway, Morgana came sprinting out, racing down the stone steps.

“Everyone okay!?”  She called out, her footsteps pounding on the grass as she all but tackled Erin into a hug, the girl barely able to maintain her footing. 

“We’re fine, Morgo. Just an intense reality check.” Erin responded from where she’d been buried in Morgana’s hair, spitting out small strands as she spoke. “I uh… I’m sorry for causing such chaos. I was just scared, I guess.” She explained meekly, and Morgana only tightened her grip. 

“It’s okay. We both did the same. Not mansion-crushing poison ivy kinda same, but we weren’t exactly quiet either.” She responded brightly, placing both her hands on Erin’s shoulders. “You ready to remember?” She asked, and Erin nodded slightly. 

“Think so… need to see Charles, right?” 

“Right. He should be downstairs keeping track of the students. They’re probably on their way back now actually.”

“Way back?”

Morgana scratched the back of her head, almost sheepish to admit what Erin had caused. “We uh, sorta evacuated the school. Ya know, poison ivy and stuff. Not great for kids.”

You watched them continue their conversation, Morgana’s arm tucked tightly in the elbow of Erin’s, the two girls seemingly thrilled one of them wasn’t trying to kill the other. You smiled slightly before it faded with the realisation of what you almost did. What you almost robbed the both of them of. 

“‘M prouda ya,” Logan said, tucking you safely against his chest. But you just sighed, resting your temple against the beat of his heart.

“I almost killed her, Lo’. Not sure that’s something you should be proud of.” You retorted a little savagely, clearly shamed by your actions. Logan’s heart clenched.

“But you didn’t. You snapped out ‘ve it and chose option one.”

“And if you weren’t here, Erin would be dead and Morgana would be devastated. And I don’t even wanna think about what it would have done to me…” You closed your eyes as he tilted your head up to look at him, lids fluttering open when his thumb smoothed your brow.

“Then it’s a good job I’m here, isn’t it?”

“And if this happens again?”

“I’ll be here for that too. Not gonna let you go, darlin’.” He murmured into the top of your head, pressing a kiss to the crease between your brows and you felt the tension melt from your bones. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, your arms winding around his neck when you felt his lips graze yours, mouth parting instinctively for him. His arms settled around your waist, holding you tight not dissimilar to the way he held you earlier, before this whole thing. 

Fuck, how did he breathe the last two months you weren’t with him?

‘I hate to interrupt,’ You both exhaled an irritated sigh as Charles's voice echoed in both of your minds. ‘However, once Erin’s memories are restored, we have a meeting and I would like the both of you to be present. We start planning today.’ 

Though the intrusion had been unwelcome, once again, a buzz of anticipation flooded your veins. Finally, you’d start forming a plan to get the rest of your family back. Finally, you could start thinking about getting Rowan back. You didn’t have to pace anymore. You didn’t have to think about what he was going through at Kreva’s hands anymore. 

You were coming for him. Coming for all of them. And you promised yourself you’d make Kreva wish he was never fucking born. 

The meeting didn’t go as planned at all. Two weeks. Two fucking weeks. That was how long Charles had said it would take to gather significant intel and stage a rescue mission. It was too fucking long. Who knows what Kreva would be capable of in two weeks? Two weeks! Fuck’s sake. 

You threw open the door to your room, rage burning through your system. You were ready now. Fuck, you were ready two fucking days ago, before you’d even got your memories back. You couldn’t wait another two damn weeks. It was too long. Far too long. 

Maybe you could head out on your own. Take Morgana and Erin with you and just go there yourselves. No plan, no backup, just the three of you. You didn’t particularly like the odds, but it was better than just sitting around and waiting. You were back to pacing, back to laying awake at night thinking. Worrying. Two fucking weeks.

“These things take time,” Logan attempted to placate from behind you, softly shutting the door as he watched you restlessly march back and forth, your hands tangled in your hair. 

“Is that what they told you when it was me they were looking to rescue? Is that what you convinced yourself when it was my life on the line?” You spat back, tone savage as your mind spun, uncaring of how cruel you sounded. You couldn’t tame your tone. Couldn’t tame your fury. And whilst in the back of your mind you felt bad Logan was the one taking the brunt of it, there that feeling stayed. In the back of your mind.

He sighed, understanding perhaps more than anyone how difficult this was. “No. I was thinking the exact same things as you are now,”

“Oh yeah? Didn’t know you were a telepath. What ‘m I thinking then?” You barked, barely pausing long enough to shoot him a glare before you resumed your fruitless pacing. 

“That you should just head out yourself. That it would be easier to do this alone. That they’re being too fucking cautious and you should just storm the place yourself, nobody behind you.” He explained exactly what was running through your head, almost word for word. Huh.

Maybe he was a telepath. 

Or maybe you were just two halves of the same soul. 

You huffed a sigh, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed, your leg bouncing with pent-up energy. “I’m assuming you didn’t do that.”

He shook his head, taking his rightful place by your side, a broad hand settling on your bouncing thigh. “No. ‘cause I knew the best chance of gettin’ you back safely was to wait. It fuckin’ killed me, don’t get me wrong, but it was worth it. ‘Cause I did get you back. It worked and you’re here now because of it, not in spite of it.” 

You rested your head atop his shoulder, trying to calm the electric adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I’m scared, Logan. The things Kreva did in the two months… it felt like a punishment. I’m fairly certain it was a punishment. And now I’ve escaped him, I know he’ll be taking it out on Rowan.” You closed your eyes, fighting against the images flashing through your brain. Bloodied scalpels, exposed organs, your own arms tearing at the restraints on your wrists. 

“What did he do…?” He asked quietly, his hand squeezing your thigh slightly. You shook your head. 

“I’ll spare you the details, but it was some fucked up autopsy kinda thing. Only we were alive. And fully conscious. Ya know, average Kreva things.” 

Fury curled in his gut, and he tensed his jaw to keep from snarling. The moment he got his hands on Kreva he’d delight in tearing him apart. He hated the way you said it so nonchalantly, though he knew it was a way you coped. You had to normalise it in your head, at least for most of the time. 

“Christ…” 

“Yeah… so I got a few new scars to commemorate the occasions. Fun, huh?” You nudged him gently, and he rolled his eyes. He didn’t quite have the same devil-may-care attitude as you did to your scars, both mental and physical, but he could appreciate the way you managed to find humour. No matter how dark it may be. 

“You’re insane.”

“Mhm? You spend almost a century with psychopaths prodding and poking you, see how sane you turn out.” You provoked with a small, mischievous grin, and he genuinely found himself wondering how you managed to be so fucking perfect for him. His body hummed with yearning, fingers dancing across your thigh and he watched your eyes grow heavy-lidded, turning your head to inhale into this side of his neck. “Logan…” you whispered, and he could hear that exact same yearning he felt in his bones against the shell of his ear. 

His fingers inched towards the crease between your thighs, your body heating up in response to his delicate touches, your lips peppering kisses against the side of his neck. He suppressed a groan when your nails dug into his forearm, leaving little crescents that quickly faded. 

Becoming impatient with his teasing, you swung your leg over to straddle his lap, settling yourself on his growing arousal, your fingers dragging lines of flame up the muscles of his back, scratching beneath the white singlet. 

He couldn’t stifle his reaction to your touch, mouth falling open with a quiet moan, his hands coming to either side of your waist, holding you down as you slowly rocked onto him in a vain attempt to ease the ache between your thighs. You hadn’t had sex with him yet since your memories were restored. If Logan was being honest with himself, he was a little afraid of triggering something for you, but the way you panted softly against his lips showed him you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. 

“You sure?” He murmured, inhaling your scent from the dip between your shoulder and collarbone, shuddering as your familiarity washed over him, combining with the sweetness of your arousal. How did you always smell so fucking good to him?

“Do I not seem sure?” You shot back teasingly, pinching the shell of his ear between your teeth and tugging a little deviously. Logan huffed a heated breath against your temple as your hands placed firmly against his chest, pushing him until his spine settled against the comforter atop your bed. You teeth sank into your lower lip, your hands skirting up beneath the white singlet, mapping the plains and valleys of his abdomen with your fingertips, scratching down the sides of his ribs, his muscles contracting and relaxing with you exploring touches. You wanted him so fucking badly. You had been wanting him so fucking badly for the last two days, but you respected his self-control to hold back. You knew he was waiting for you, and you were eternally grateful for his consideration. However, the amount of times he’d unintentionally left you high and dry was driving you up the goddamn wall. 

You stood from his lap, hooking your fingers beneath the hem of your t-shirt and making a show of pulling it from your body. It didn’t matter what you were wearing. Whether you were dressed to the nines or hanging out in your sweats and a hoody, Logan always made you feel hot as fuck. The way his eyes would shamelessly roam your body, scars and all, made you feel like you never needed to hide from him. Everything about you was desirable to him. It was part of the reason you loved him so fucking much. 

Discarding your t-shirt to the floor, your fingers deftly pulled down the zipper of your jeans, swaying your hips as you tugged them down. How you managed to elegantly step from the pool of tight fabric would always be a mystery to him, but a mystery he would attempt to solve at a later date when you weren’t standing before him in nothing but your underwear. You weren’t kidding earlier when you told him you had a few new scars. His mouth watered with the need to run his tongue down the newest one starting from just above your left breast and finishing beneath the right-hand side of your ribcage. He didn’t even want to know how you got that, but he assumed it might have something to do with the live autopsy you were talking about earlier…

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You quipped cheekily, placing a hand on your hip as if to pose for him. Left in just your bralette and bikini pants, Logan had to check himself to make sure he wasn’t fucking drooling as he sat up, shrugging off his plaid shirt and pulling his white singlet up over his head, dumping them both at the foot of your bed. 

“C’mere,” you squealed as he lurched forward, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist to tug you between his spread legs, his cock already throbbing for you, calling needily for attention he would ignore. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, ya know that?” He murmured against your stomach, nipping sharp little marks into your skin, his tongue tracing that new scar up to where it disappeared behind the fabric of your bra. “S’in my way.” He muttered almost to himself, a hint of irritation lacing his tone as he shoved it to bunch up above your breasts. Your snorted a laugh before pulling it up over your head, tossing it to the small pile of clothes you’d left on the floor.

“Better?” You asked, amusement woven through your tone. Logan shook his head, the tips of his fingers tracing the elastic of your underwear, making you shiver.

“No. Still in my way,” he snatched the hem with his teeth, pulling it back before letting it go with a snap against your hips, leaving you gasping for something more. With a sly, wicked smile, Logan released the constant tension he had on his claws, letting one slip through the gap in his knuckles, tracing the back of the warm metal along your inner thigh. “Didn’t forget about this…” he whispered against your skin, eyes torn between concentrating on what he was doing and watching what it did to you, your back arching toward him as he slotted his claw in the apex of your clothed cunt, biting back a grin as you all but ground against the blunt edge. 

“Such a fucking tease.” You hissed, your fingers winding into the soft, brown locks of his hair, nails digging into the top of his head, pulling a low groan from the back of his throat. You grinned to yourself, tugging harshly on the threads woven through your fingers, earning yourself yet another wanton growl. If he was gonna tease you all damn evening, you’d be damned if you weren’t gonna tease him right back. 

Logan angled his claw down slightly, giving you further room to grind down against it simultaneously making sure he wasn’t in any danger of cutting you at all. That wasn’t something either of you had explored yet, and whilst he was okay with you toeing the line of danger, he wasn’t quite open to hurting you. Not yet. Not when he just got you back. Hurting you was the last thing on his mind. “C’mon princess, use me.” He encouraged lowly, his other hand guiding your hips in slow, languid strokes, pressing his thumb against your hip bone. You whined at his words, sandwiching your lips between your teeth to deliberately deprive him of your sounds. You knew he fucking loved it when you moaned for him, you knew he loved it when he could hear just how well he was treating you. 

Not today. Not if he was going to do nothing but fucking tease you.

He could feel the heat from your soaked cunt, feel every slick movement as you soaked the crotch of your bikinis. All that from the slightest pressure from one of his claws. The implications had his mind spinning. He had an inkling you were locking your sweet noises away from him on purpose, but Logan was nearly always up for a challenge. Removing his claw from your apex, he deftly sliced through the elastic of your pants, growling a chuckle as you gasped again. Sliding to his knees, his palm grabbed the meat of your thigh, shamelessly throwing your leg over his shoulder, exposing your glistening centre. 

“Gonna make you fuckin’ scream, darlin’.” You barely had time to think of a witty quip back before his tongue gently nudged between your folds, hot pleasure spiking through your veins as his nose nudged your swollen clit. You sucked in a harsh breath, your fingers tightening their hold on his hair, twisting through soft locks to hold him in place. Logan’s eyes rolled back behind closed lids, lapping up your sweet nectar with his tongue. 

You couldn’t hold back your guttural moan when his mouth settled over your throbbing pearl, sucking gently against the sensitivity. Your spine curled around his head and you had a front-row seat to the way the muscles in his back tensed with the effort to not throw you on the bed and pick you apart. He snarled hotly when one of your hands left his hair to claw up those same tensing muscles, earning yourself a harsh suck against your clit, vibrations from his voice sending little waves of ecstasy through your system. 

“Logan…” you breathed airily, your tone pitching with a whine when his hand skirted up your inner thigh for his fingers to tease your slick entrance, seemingly content to feel you gush against his fingertips before slowly burying his middle finger inside you. 

He revelled in your gasps, your moans, knowing that no matter how hard you tried, you could never hide just how fucking good he could make you feel. It stroked his ego, your wordless praise going straight to his throbbing, leaking cock. That mixed with the natural aphrodisiac of your essence had him gripping your outer thigh tightly in an attempt to ground himself and keep his shit together. But it was becoming increasingly more difficult the moment you arched into him as the rough pad of his finger reached that little bundle of nerves deep within your silken walls. 

Oh, how he fucking yearned to replace that finger with his cock. 

Your back bowed as liquid pleasure flooded every fibre of your being, unable to stop your desperate grinding against his face, sharp nails clawing into the meat of his shoulder, feeling his soft laughter beneath your palms. He had you. He knew he had you. Exactly where he wanted you. And if you were being honest with yourself, you were all too happy to accept that if it meant he wouldn’t stop. 

“Fuck! Fuck Logan…” You whimpered, hips undulating onto his tongue as he introduced a second finger, scissoring you open before exploring deeping, once again finding that little spot that made your eyes cross and stars dance in your vision. The tension in your gut started to become unbearable, every breath laced with a pitched moan of his name, repeating it like a prayer to the skies above as you threw your head back.

He wasn’t lying. He was going to make you scream. 

Nimble fingers curled inside you repeatedly, massaging your inner walls whilst his tongue continued to lap at your clit, beckoning you further towards that cliff, dangerously toeing the edge when his lips wrapped back around your pearl of pleasure and sucked long and hard.

A quiet scream tore from your throat, somehow still mindful of the fact you were in the mansion and screaming any louder would definitely alert your poor neighbours of what was going on inside the walls of your room. Heated lightning flashed behind your eyes as your arousal crested into sheer ecstasy, your thighs clamping around his head to hold him right there whilst your orgasm shook your very core, your muscles contracting with every endless wave of pure, hot rapture. 

Logan groaned long and deep into your cunt, using his own voice to heighten and lengthen your orgasm before it became too much for you and you were forced to tug him back, faced with his glistening visage of proud glee. You guessed two months of no sex had been building your sensitivity to a crescendo, your thighs still trembling slightly though you were by no means done. Fuck you wanted to devour him.

“Jeans. Off. Now.” You managed to pant darkly, watching his eyes sparkle with the unspoken promise as he wiped your slick from his mouth, maintaining your gaze as he lapped at the back of his hand. Christ, he was fucking filthy sometimes. 

“Yes ma’am,” he quipped back, slowly lowering your leg from his shoulder, making certain you could still stand on your own before he rose to his feet, capturing your lips in a brutal, passionate kiss as he passed your face. You gasped into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue, your own hands flying to the buckle of his belt, flicking open the steel and tightening the leather around his waist briefly, a small display of assertion, before removing it entirely and looping it around your hand. Oh, you had plans tonight, plans to show him just how much you’d missed him. To show him you had no intentions of letting him go. 

Dexterous fingers popped open the brass button atop his jeans, carefully dragging the zipper down before shoving both jeans and briefs from his hips, leaving him to handle the rest whilst your coal-hot palm circled his pulsing length. 

Logan’s jaw fell slack as he kicked off the fabric, brows pinching as you slowly pumped his cock, your thumb dragging along the prominent vein running down the underside of his length. The clinking of his belt in your other hand had his eyes drifting down, his mind straining to form a coherent thought as you looked at him questioningly. 

“What’re you thinkin’?” he managed to grit, having to wrap his fingers around your wrist to stop your motions before he lost himself again. You pursed your lips, dragging your leather-bound hand across his chest and up to his shoulder.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

You paused for a moment, a wicked glint gleaming in your eye. “I wanna wrap this around your neck and pull on it whilst I suck your fucking soul out of your cock.”

Logan almost choked on his own gathering saliva, and he should really be ashamed of how fucking hot you just made him, his cock throbbing at the mere thought of your intentions. “And you said I was filthy… fuck darlin’. Might’ve been the hottest thing you’ve ever said.” He breathed, delighting in the downright villainous look in your gaze. Holy fucking shit. 

“Yeah? Want me to collar you like a dog?” You had no idea where any of this was coming from. Sure you’d had fantasies of tying him up and worshipping him the same way he’d done to you, but all this dirty talk? You had no damn clue. 

“Fuck yes.” He hissed, and your lips split into a devilish grin. 

“Sit.” You instructed, and he did just that, no questions asked, legs spread for you to kneel between, his cock twitching needily. “So obedient.”

His chest inflated as you rose on your knees, twirling the length of the belt from your hand and winding it around his thick neck, feeding the end through the buckle and pulling until it was snuck against his skin. All the while he nipped sharp bites wherever your wrist was in reach of his mouth, his palm holding your arm still so he could trail his teeth up to the crease of your elbow. 

You gave the belt an experimental tug, admiring the way he gasped at the leather tightened briefly around his neck, pulling his head back from your skin. You felt his cock nudge your stomach with the slight buck of his hips in response to the sensation. 

Settling back down to sit on your heels, you kept the end of the belt clasped tightly in one hand, the other returning to palm his cock, admiring the way he gasped loudly as the centre of your hand circled his sensitive tip, spreading clear pre-cum up and down his shaft. You leaned forward, savouring the bite in your knees as your hot breath fanned the underside of his length, your tongue only gently grazing that same vein you ran your thumb down earlier. 

“Fuck…” he sighed, his head tipping back, bracing one hand behind him and the other atop your head, fingers scratching at the roots of your hair. It had been too fucking long since he had you like this, and the tightening leather around his neck only served to further his heightened sensitivity. 

Opening your mouth, you wrapped your lips around his leaking tip, your tongue lapping against his frenulum, tugging at the belt as his hips bucked into your mouth, craving more. He hissed, baring his teeth in a silent snarl as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking in time to the rhythmic pulsing of his length, your other hand dragging teasing nails up and down what you hadn’t fit in your mouth yet, before all at once, you tore your hand away, opened your throat and swallowed the rest of his cock. 

Logan’s back arched, a stuttered moan tearing from his chest as your nose buried itself in the course hairs at his naval, gasping raggedly as you gave the belt another harsh tug, cold leather digging into the straining tendons on the sides of his neck, pressing against his prominent adam’s apple and constricting his breathing for a moment. The second it loosened, a hot wave of ecstasy coursed through his veins as he inhaled, honey-laced lightning filling his lungs when you pulled back from his cock, only to run your tongue down the underside of his length again as you sucked him off. 

“Shit… shit sweetheart. Feel so fucking good…” he groaned as you worked him, every drag of your hot mouth pulling him closer to his high, every small gag tightening your throat around his throbbing cock. Tears lined your eyes as you took him as deep as you could once again, your hand bracing against his hip as he bucked sharply, uncontrollably, into your mouth. He gasped to the ceiling as his head fell back, tightening the leather as you held the end in a death grip, not providing any slack for him. Brows pinched, mouth agape, Logan felt himself cresting the pinnacle of pleasure, hand grasping your hair as he failed to still his grinding hips.

“Gonna cum baby, f-fuck, gonna cum…!” he rasped a warning, only encouraging you to hollow your cheeks further and bring him over the edge in a similar way he’d done to you only moments ago. Your tongue danced against his pulsing vein, nails digging into his hip bone as you sucked long and hard, tugging the belt sharply and sending him into trembling ecstasy. 

A throaty, drawn-out roar wracked his throat as he tumbled head first into his orgasm, mindful to tear his hand from your head as his claws ripped through his knuckles, shooting rope after copious rope of cum down your throat, his thighs shaking with each delicious wave. He couldn’t find it in him to care for the tearing of fabric as he ripped clean through your comforter, powerful tides of liquid hedonistic gratification sending his mind spinning and clouding his senses. 

You didn’t stop your ministrations, swallowing every drop you pulled from him before continuing to circle the back of your tongue against his increasingly sensitive tip until he was bucking to escape the heat of your mouth. You had half the mind to tug on the belt once more, to get him to behave, but the fresh ache in your cunt was loud enough to release him, wanting nothing more than to feel him quake inside you. 

Pulling off with a soft pop, you delivered a few kitten licks to his still leaking slit before looking up to admire your work, Logan’s blissful, fucked out visage doing nothing to satiate your building desperation. 

When you said you’d suck his soul out, he didn’t think you meant literally. Basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, Logan had to check himself to make sure you hadn’t somehow killed him, his heart racing with the force of his high, chest heaving as he fought for breath. You loosened the belt slightly and he groaned lowly with the sudden intake of oxygen, yet another wave of pleasure forcing another bubble of milky cum from his tip. Softly, you unhooked the belt from the buckle, sliding it from around his neck and discarding it to the floor along with the rest of your forgotten clothing, your hands cradling the fading bruises on either side of his throat.

Cracking his eyes open, he genuinely had a moment where he did think he was dead because you looked otherwordly above him. A seraphim. Or a succubus. He couldn’t decide which. 

“I’d say that was a successful addition, wouldn’t you?” The audacity you had to expect him to respond right now was unbelievable, your soft arms wrapping around his freshly healed neck as you went to straddle his settling thighs, mindful of his overly sensitive cock. You knew it wouldn’t be too long until he was ready for another round, so why not spend that time teasing him a little?

“Fucking hell darlin’...” he managed, his claws sinking back between his knuckles before his hands came to cradle your waist, finding enough strength to pull you with him as he shuffled back onto the bed, propping himself up against your pillows and headboard. “You tryna kill me or somethin’?” he grinned, a brow arched at your wicked little giggle. 

“Wouldn’t be a bad way to go.” You retorted, winding your hands into his hair soothingly,  moulding your lips to his so he could taste himself on your tongue, your own essence still lingering in his mouth.

“What’s that then? Attempt three? Four? On my life?” he asked, pulling back a fraction to watch you roll your eyes playfully. 

“Who’s counting?”

Logan shook his head fondly. All the fear of losing you. All the pain of failing to protect you. The agony of waiting. It was all worth it to see you here, now, with him. He still couldn’t quite believe he had you back in his arms. “Fuck I love you. So fucking much, Firefly.” He murmured against your lips, your eyes widening slightly before pouring every ounce of adoration in your heart into a fierce kiss. 

“Want you, Logan…” you breathed, feeling his cock already hardening against your cunt, grinding your hips to catch your clit on his balls. 

“You have me, sweetheart.” He responded, bracing his hands against your back to switch positions, your world spinning for a moment before you nestled back into the pillows, strong arms caging you in. “You have me.” He repeated, teasing the head of his cock through your slick folds before slowly breaching you.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, ankles crossing at the small of his back as he filled you, the desperation of before having shifted to something more sensual, more passionate. He didn’t just want to fuck you. He wanted to love you. 

Your brows pinched, eyes closing, an airy gasp floating from your lips with the familiar stretch of his length filling your perfectly. He stilled as he settled to the hilt, basking in the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him, shaky breaths fanning your temple as he fought with himself not to cum on the damn spot. 

“Look at me…” he urged softly, your lids fluttering open to meet his intense gaze, watching his jaw slacken when he pulled out to the tip, before rolling his hips back into you, mesmerised by every micro-expression you made. Your thighs tightened around his waist, heels digging into the base of his spine as you encouraged his movements. He kept his thrusts slow and deep, reaching every inch of your inner walls, grazing deliciously against that bundle of nerves he was teasing with his fingers before you had him in your mouth. 

“I love you.” You whispered, hands holding onto the sinewy muscles of his shoulders, welcoming him into your quivering cunt with every rhythmic pulse of his cock breaching your glistening entrance. Logan huffed a gravelly groan, soft eyes searching tracing every detail of your features, the way your mouth fell open, the way you fought to keep your eyes open when his length bushed that little spot of pure ecstasy inside you, the crease in the centre of your brows when they pinched. He committed each little expression to memory, before losing himself completely in your silken heat.

Logan increased the pace of his movements, pleasure coursing through his veins as you shuddered around him, your nails piercing the skin of his shoulders, desperation fuelling the clawing across the top of his back. Your pitched moans went straight to his cock, urging him to bury his face in the side of your neck and inhale your sweet scent, driving him to give you as much as he could.

“C’mon baby… can feel you clenchin’ round me. Let go,” he instructed, savouring the way your thighs trembled, your spine arching. “Cum f’me darlin’. Show me how good it feels.”

Your symphony of moans climaxed along with your body, the shadows in the room quivering and whipping out as you struck your high, cumming in long, drawn-out waves and creaming on his pulsing cock. Logan tensed as he refrained from spilling into your for as long as he could, determined to prolong your ecstasy before he reached his own. But the moment you surged up to bury your teeth in the side of his neck, he came undone.

“Sh-shit! Fuck!” He growled your name through grit teeth, heaving gasps as he lost control of his hips for the second time that night, bucking into you with renewed desperation as his muscles contracted, rapturous nectar pulsing from his cock as he pumped into your waiting heat, your walls gripping and milking him for all he was worth. 

Phantom tides of lightning caused his length to twitch within you, and it took nearly all his strength not to collapse and crush you beneath him, rolling to the side, your legs still wrapped around his waist, keeping him nestled inside you.

Logan pulled your into his sweat-oiled chest, his heavy breathing calming slightly as you nuzzled into the hollow of his throat, your own hot breaths fanning his already heated skin whilst the two of you basked in the floating afterglow, his scruff scratching lightly against your forehead as you buried your face in his neck. 

He held you as you came back to earth, untangling your legs from his waist, hissing as he pulled out and lifted his side for you to remove your other leg from where he was essentially holding it hostage with his weight. 

“Where the fuck did that whole belt thing come from?” he asked with no small degree of humour in his voice once he remembered how to think properly. He felt you shake with laughter, tilting your head up to gaze into his mirthful hazel eyes. 

“Been wanting to do something with that damn belt since the first time we slept together. Maybe the first time you kissed me, actually…” you hummed thoughtfully, and he cocked a brow. He remembered that first morning you woke up together, your confession over leaving the belt somewhere within reach just in case.

He always wondered what the case would have been. Now he knew. And it was the single hottest thing you’d ever done. 

“Such a freak.” He mumbled, gently hitting his nose against yours as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re saying that as if you didn’t cave the moment I suggested it. I asked if you wanted me to collar you and you responded, and I quote, ‘fuck yes’.” You did your best to imitate his voice, failing miserably as you couldn’t reach that low or gravelly. Logan rolled his eyes, shoving your head back into his neck where you couldn’t see just how wrapped around your finger he truly was.

“That was a shit impression.”

“Whaddya mean, bub?” You did it again, earning yourself a sharp pinch to your waist before you devolved into fits of giggles. 

“Stop.” He fought back a grin, refusing to show you how amused he truly was by your antics. “You’re a hundred-and-five years old, act your age.”

“Logan if I acted my age I’d be dead. And so would you, for that matter,” you quipped back, earning yourself a snort of laughter above you.

“Good point well made.”

“Speaking of which…” you raised your head from his neck once again, propping yourself up on your elbow. “I never did thank you, did I? For not telling me how you found out my birthday. Guess I never got the chance but– thank you. I know you don’t like lying to me so it means a lot that you did.” 

You watch him struggle to accept your gratitude, clearly battling between the guilt of not telling you at the time and the want to keep you in the dark to stop you from dwelling.

“How long’ve you known?”

“Since Charles restored my memory. After my freakout. It was the first thing Jade showed me. My birthday in the cabin,” you responded softly, idly tracing the muscles of his bicep with your fingers. “We gotta go back, by the way. I think I left my gift there.” You admitted sheepishly.

“It’s here.”

Your eyes shot back to his face, and he couldn’t have recreated your expression of surprised awe if you had given him all the art lessons in the world. “It’s here?”

“Yep.”

“Wh- h- what? When? How?” your pitch increased with each question, your brain working overtime to try and remember when he would have had the time to pick it up in the rush of both packing and leaving that night two months ago. 

“Remember you forgot ya purse?” He asked, a fond glint dancing in his eyes.

“Well yeah but–”

“Grabbed it on the way out. It was on the mantlepiece next to that ridiculous picture you took.”

“I like that picture!” You defended avidly, remembering the day you took it. It was a freezing autumn afternoon, though there was nothing but sunshine in the sky. You’d wrapped a scarf around his neck as he worked on the bike outside, snapping a sneaky pic of him all snug. It was one of your favourite pictures, and you’d got it printed and framed without him even knowing about it. How you managed to do any of that behind his back you wouldn’t say, but he let you display it because it made you happy. 

“Besides the point. It’s uh– in my closet.” It was his turn to sound a little guilty, soft tones laced with culpability.

“Your closet? Why? It’s gorgeous.” You tilted your head as much as you could with the awkward position, struggling to understand why he would shut away such an incredible display of his woodworking skills. 

“I couldn’t look at it…” he confessed, and you inhaled a micro gasp of understanding. It was a reminder of what he’d lost for the last two months. You hadn’t really taken the time to contemplate just how hard things had been for him. In a way, having your memories completely readjusted had worked in your favour. You couldn’t miss what you didn’t remember. But Logan? He remembered all of it. And he’d spent the last two months wondering if he’d ever see you again. 

“Logan…” you murmured, your hand leaving his arm to cup the side of his face, heartbreaking as he leaned into your touch a fraction, the scruff of his beard tickling the heel of your palm. “I’m so sorry.” You didn’t quite know why you were apologising. Maybe for having it easier with not being able to miss him the same way he missed you. For not truly understanding what he went through. For being so focused on yourself and your brother, you hadn’t taken a moment to think about his experiences. Sure, you’d asked how he was holding up, but it didn’t seem enough.

“S’okay. You’re here now.” It was a reassurance for himself more than anything else, you could see it in the way he savoured your touch, your thumb dragging gently back and forth over his cheekbone.

“I’m here now.” You affirmed, nudging his nose with yours before resting your forehead against his. “I’m here.”

“I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, firefly.”

Your eyes blew wide, searching his face for the deception you knew you wouldn’t find. “What…?”

“Not a proposal or anythin’, don’t worry. Just wanted you to know. Come far too close to losin’ you to not say shit like this, I guess.” He tried to play it off like his heart wasn’t in his damn throat, watching every micro-expression you made, looking for any sign of rejection. But the way your eyes watered slightly, lips splitting into a smile of sheer, unadulterated joy, told him that there would be no such thing from you. 

“I wouldn’t be mad if it was, but I am yours. For however long you’ll have me.” You continued to trace his features, the creases at the corners of his eyes as his mouth quirked into a soft, fond smile. 

“So ‘til one of us keels over. Might be some time.”

“I think I’m okay with that.”

The rythmic tapping of nails against oak occupied your mind as you started blankly at the presentation screen ahead of you, details of the latest draft of the search and rescue mission glowing faintly on the screen. But you finding it difficult to concentrate on Scott’s authoritative voice when his plan didn’t make any goddamn sense.

“Wasn’t that the entrance you used last time? Fairly certain Kreva would have worked that out by now…” Morgana offered with uncertainty, and you grunted in agreement, your leg bouncing in growing irritation as once again, the meeting was going fucking nowehere. Logan’s hand settled on your thigh, his thumb caressing soothing circles onto the top of your sweatpants. 

“There’ll be twice as many guards there than there were last time, if there were any there at all.” You followed up, speaking through where your teeth chewed at your cuticles, your tapping nails ceasing to settle you other palm atop Logan’s knuckles, a silent gesture to reassure him you were alright. 

“Guards won’t be a problem.” He snarled quietly, resisting the urge to prove his point by releasing the tension in his knuckles. You bit back a smile. 

“We also gotta remember,” Morgana continued, flipping her hair back behind her shoulder. “Kreva will also be expecting something from us now. Especially since he grabbed Rowan for this exact reason. He’ll be expecting you.” She turned her attention to you, and you frowned in acknowledgment. You knew that. You all knew that. And you’d lost count of the amount of times people had tried to convince your to stay here and not head out with them. Each conversation ended fairly abruptly, with you telling them to fuck off. 

“And he still has his trump card, Naji.” Erin chimed in, her cheek resting on her palm as if she was bored out of her mind, her other hand mindless tapping on her phone. You knew she was actually listening pretty intently, her brain working overtime to come up with creative solutions to the problems that just wouldn’t stop arising. She wanted to get Atlas out with as little risk as possible, and she was also one of the people who had tried to convince you to step back, but backed down when you promptly mentioned she wasn’t the only one missing someone she loved deeply. 

That shut her up pretty damn quickly. 

“I thought we’d decided Jean would take care of Naji?” You couldn’t keep the frustration in your voice as you were once again having to go back over issues that had already been resolved. Why the fuck was this being brought up yet again? And awkward silence blanketed the room, Jean, Scott and Charles exchanging quick, uncertain glances. 

“We did… but we decided it wouldn’t be a good idea,” Scott said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms, already defensive. As he should be.

“What? Why? Who else better to engage in a mind battle than a fucking telepath? And I’m not being funny, but I’m assuming Charles isn’t coming, correct?” You turned your head to the Professor as he nodded in confirmation.

“I’ll be there in Cerebro.” Was all he said, and you looked back to Scott pointedly. 

“Exactly. So why the hell wouldn’t we send Jean to Naji?”

“It’s too dangerous.” He stated simply, and you fought the urge to lunge across the table and slap the shit out of him. 

“Of course it’s dangerous. This is dangerous for all of us! But Jean agreed, right?” You tnow turned to her, desperate for her to confirm what had already happened. But she too looked hesitant.

“Yeah, I did.” She sighed, and you gave Scott a look of ‘fuck you, asshole’. But he only tightened his jaw.

“So why are we now deciding that sending a telepath after a memory manipulator is a bad idea?”

“Perhaps we should adjourn this meeting for later?” Hank offered after being all but silent the entire time.

“No, fuck that. This is important. Do you guys know what’s at stake here? I’m assuming Logan wasn’t the only one to read the fild, right? You do know what Kreva did to us, yes?” You asked the room to to yet another chorus of quiet, confirming your fears. Barely anyone in this room knew exactly what they were up against. “You’re fucking kidding me…” You breathed, trying to focus on Logan squeezing your leg to help ground your fury. 

“She’s right,” he chimed in, and your heart surged. No matter what, you knew he would fight your corner. He always did. “Pretty sure the only ones here who can fight against mind battles are Jean and Charles. None of us can put up those kinda defences and if that fucker snatches up one of us, the whole plan goes outta whack.”

“And what will you be doing?” Scott shot from across the table, and you felt Logan tense slightly. 

“What I do best.” He responded flatly, and you got the distinct feeling this meeting was about to become a lot more heated. 

“So whilst you’re running around carving through carrion, Jean will be fighting the real battle, that right?” Okay, now it was really taking all your concentration not to smack his glasses off his fucking face. What the hell did he mean by real battle?

“I think Hank was right, maybe we should–” Kurt began awkwardly from the corner, clearly already hating the growing confrontation. But he was instantly cut off by you, rising to Scott’s challenge.

“Oh I’m sorry, is keeping your girlfriend safe by taking out hundreds of gunmen not enough?” You bit, venom dripping from your tone. Scott scoffed as the rest of the room shuffled anxiously, Ororo pinching the bridge of her knows between her fingers as if this whole conversation was giving her a headache. 

“‘His girlfriend’ is in the room.” Jean placed a hand on her hip, her eyes hardening as she looked between the two opposing sides. But it seemed neither Logan, Scott nor yourself noticed.

“My girlfriend is the only reason you made it out that damn place with your mind still intact, and the only reason you didn’t go ape shit and kill the rest of us like you did Jade.”

“Scott!” Storm barked, but it was far too late. The damage was done. Your head tilted to the side, shadows in the room rippling and writhing as your control over the threads inside you started to slip. 

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Logan snarled, his hands balling into fists as he too engaged in the same battle to keep control. 

“Just because you got a new girlfriend Logan doesn’t mean you can throw mine into the fray. It wasn’t so long ago you were eyeing her up at every opportunity,” he turned back to you. “I’d be careful if I were you. Wait ‘til the next pretty girl waltzes into the school, you’ll be old news to him.”

The following silence was so thick it tasted like bitter resentment. You swore it was only two months ago Scott was congratulating the both of you on your newfound relationship. Why the fuck was he acting like this.

It didn’t matter anyway. He’d said what he’d said and you slowly stood from your seat. The room watched you with prey-like caution, Scott’s fingers dancing across his glasses, Ororo’s hands flexing in anticipation. They were still scared. Still scared of you. And you couldn’t help but think it was with good reason, because the way you were currently feeling, you could have drowned this whole room in darkness without hesitation. 

But you wouldn’t be who they saw. Only Morgana and Erin seemed at ease, Erin with that same bored look, tapping away on her phone, and Morgana looking as if she’d just watched the latest episode of the juiciest TV show.

“Meeting adjourned.” You said with deathly quiet, before stalking from the room, hearing a sharp ‘the fuck was that Scott’ from Ororo as you let your feet carry you away. You refused to feel insecure in your relationship with Logan. It wasn’t that long ago, maybe a week or so, he was saying how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. You knew Scott was bitter about the way Jean had behaved, and the man placed a lot of the blame on your partner, despite the fact she was the one who’d lead him on. Gave him hope where there wasn’t any. Not that any of that mattered now. It was in the past. Old news. And news you’d already been told, by Logan himself. 

That wasn’t even what got to you. It was his comment about Jade. Whilst you’d put your self-hatred and guilt to bed, it still didn’t mean it wasn’t easy for it to rise again. You felt the all to familiar waves of regret wax and wane in your chest, the memory of her death playing on repeat in your head, through your own eyes. You clenched your jaw against them, trying to remember that she had forgiven you for what you’d done. She didn’t hold it against you, and the locket currently bouncing against the hollow of your throat was a testament to that.

You didn’t even realise you’d made it outside until the sharp winter air seeped through your bones. At least the sky was clear, clusters of stars blinking down at you, but rather than finding peace, you instead felt judgement. Which was ridiculous. But you felt it anyway, in the passionate deaths of a million fireballs light-years away from Earth. You sucked in a deep breath, allowing the icy air to soothe the burning in your chest, letting your bubbling rage settle into a gentle stew. 

You heard him before you saw him, heavy footsteps crunching on gravel before a large, warm jacket settled atop your shoulders, bathing you in the comforting scent of whiskey and pine. You stayed silent for a moment, Logan’s hand finding yours subconsciously.

“Did you kill him?” You asked by way of greeting, and you heard a soft huff of small laughter by your side. 

“Not yet. Want me to?”

“I’m real good at hiding bodies.”

“That I don’t doubt.” 

Logan felt his gut twist as you continued looking skyward, hoping you were finding some kind of solace in the feeling of unimportance when faced with the rest of the universe. Feeling small was something Logan was too familiar with, but when staring into the infinite, glittering void above, he found a comforting sense of mortality, despite thus far proving to be immortal. But then he remembered Scott’s scathing comment, and he was brought back to the issue at hand. “You know it’s bullshit, right?”

You blinked for a moment, failing to understand what he was referring to. “What’s bullshit?”

“The whole thing about the next pretty girl…” he clarified quietly, his fingers flexing and squeezing between yours.

“Oh, pff, that? I’m not worried. Like I said, I’m real good at hiding bodies.” You grinned slightly, and you watched his face relax in relief. Was he really worried about such a petty comment? It soothed your aching heart to know he was. 

“Good.” He murmured to the top of your hair, his hand leaving yours to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

“Good that I can hide bodies?”

“That too.”

You hummed in contented agreement, basking in the warmth of his presence, returning your gaze to the night sky. “You okay? That was quite a shot fired from Scott.” You quieried, craning your neck further to look at his side profile, his eyes still trained above.

“‘M’fine. After you left they got into an argument so that was kinda cathartic to watch.”

“Who? Scott and Jean?”

“Mhm.” He hummed in confirmation, and you snorted a laugh.

“What was she saying?”

“That he needs to stop treating her like she can’t handle herself, that she isn’t made of glass.”

“Sounds familiar.” You lightly elbowed his side and he raised a brow down to you, deftly flicking your forehead before you could pull away in time. 

The quiet of the night invaded the space between you, settling comfortably atop unspoken affection. “What he said about Jade…”

“I’m fine, Lo’. Sure, it kinda caught me off guard, but I probably should have expected it. Especially since I was questioning his fragile authority.” You shrugged, but Logan knew the depth of the wound Scott had cut. He didn’t think there would be a time when digs about Jade wouldn’t resurface those feelings of fear and liability. 

“I love you, ya know that?”

You sighed warmly. “Yeah, I know.” You responded, once again letting the silence settle for a beat before you inhaled a breath. “Jean? Really?”

Logan groaned in response, it was the same conversation you’d started when he’d first told you about that whole situation. “Yeah, I know. Don’t.”

“But like, okay she’s hot, and a red-head so like, double whammy, but she’s kinda creepy. Feels like something’s going on under the surface, ya know?”

“Look, she was the first person who’d shown me any kind of kindness for a long time, a’ight?”

“Okay but like, if someone helped you across the street, would you fall in love with them, too?” 

“What am I? Eight-five?”

“No, you’re hundred and thirty. Eighty-five’s pretty sprightly in comparison.”

“And that’s enough talkin’.” He wrapped both arms around your shoulder, hiding your face beneath his chin to muffle your voice, your rapid breaths of laughter fanning his neck. “It wasn’t the same, anyway.”

“Hm?” You tried to pull back, only to be met with resistance from Logan’s hand against the back of your head. 

“It wasn’t the same, how I felt ‘bout her. To how I feel ‘bout you. Never was ‘n never will be.” He didn’t need to say it. You both knew he didn’t need to say it. But that’s why it meant so much more that he did. Your soul sang within the centre of your very being, to be so loved after all you’ve gone through, you never thought something like this would be possible, let alone allowing yourself to love someone back. Even with Jade, you felt as if you didn’t have the right to love her.

But Logan? He made you feel so safe. 

“I know.” You repeated into the home you’d made in the crook of his neck. Logan exhaled a hum, Adam’s apple sending soft vibrations through your nose as he simply held you for a moment, before sniffing the air twice the combined scent of earth coated iron had his lips pulling into a slight smile.

“She’s all yours.” Logan stole a glance behind him to where both Erin and Morgana were standing silently, respectfully waiting for the sweet moment to naturally come to a close. When you pulled back this time, he let you, his hand falling to your waist before pecking your lips with a honeyed kiss. 

It was only when he stepped back from you did you realise you had company, too wrapped up in his presence to hear their shoes on the gravel. He offered you a nod of reassurance, and you offered him a warm smile in return before he turned his back and heading back inside, his jacket still hanging snugly across your shoulders. 

“That was cute,” Erin began as she tucked her phone into her back pocket, the two girls coming to stand on either side of you, both of them looping their arms through your elbows. “Scratch that. He’s cute. Can’t believe you’re actually dating that gorgeous hunk of a man. So unfair.” She pouted slightly, and you chuckled. 

“I know right? We escape for seven years and what do we do? Become strippers and gardeners. You escape for seven years and find yourself a partner, a family and a team. Talk about bullshit.” Morgana chided with a cheeky grin, her eyes flashing in the low light. 

“Yeah well… I did also kill the woman I loved so it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows.” You admitted, watching their expressions morph from cheeky to melancholic in a heartbeat. You guessed they still weren’t quite used to that fact yet. You’d had longer to come to terms with it, at least after Charles restored your memories. They’d only found out a week ago. It was still a hard pill to swallow. Jade was gone. For good. 

Your breath clouded in front of your face as you returned to look skyward, finding less judgment in the stars and more comfort. If nothing else, they’d been a constant in your life. Whether you were out killing for Kreva or out fighting for your family. They’d always been there above you. Keeping you company on the long, difficult nights. 

“I’m gonna miss her,” Erin whispered into the night, her arm tightening around yours. “She was–”

“Fun.” Morgana finished, casting a glance at her two sisters by her side. You huffed a laugh.

“We were fun. Whilst we weren’t being fucked up. We had a lot of fun.” You felt a slight burn in your eyes. It was only just dawned on you that your lives together were coming to an end. When you got Atlas, Rowan, Naji and Joes back, what would happen to Nimlo? Would you all stay together? It seemed unlikely. Erin didn’t seem all too comfortable in the mansion, and you had an idea that once she was back with Atlas, that would be it for the two of them. They’d go their separate ways. Rowan would stay by your side, maybe get a job here at the school teaching physics or something. Joes could never stay in one place for very long, always flitting between rooms for a ‘change of scenery’ he would say. Naji would most likely become a recluse, not that he was particularly social, to begin with.

But Morgana? You had a feeling she was directionless. Torn between different paths. You knew she could stay here. The team would welcome her with open arms, and you’d seen the way she got on particularly well with Kurt, the two of them cracking up in the corner after one of them made some stupid joke. But there was no guarantee that, after this, you’d ever see many of them again. 

“You remember when we graffitied that guy’s wall?” Morgana broke the silence, her voice thick with a similar emotion to yours. 

“And Joes had to distract him by telling him the longest, most elaborate story about the time he went to get his ass checked out by a doctor only to realise he just had pin-worms?” Erin continued, clearing her throat slightly so she could speak without her voice breaking. 

You cracked a broad grin, shoulders shaking with teary laughter as you remembered that night vividly. You were all a bored band of misfits with a can of paint and an idea, drawing a dick and balls on one of the neighbourhood’s walls before being caught with a flashlight in the middle of the act. Joes rushed into performance mode, telling this poor man the story of his completely fabricated visit to the doctor’s in graphic detail. He was so stunned it gave you precious few moments to make a break for it, sprinting down the side streets to the disgruntled shouts of an angry man. You vaguely wondered how he was doing now, before remembering he never existed. 

“Or when we stole that woman’s car after being caught shoplifting.” You chimed, looking at Morgana pointedly. She gaped in mock offence. 

“I refuse to take the blame for that. Atlas was supposed to be on watch but somehow got distracted.” She sent a faux glare across you to Erin, who’d done her best to craft a mask of complete innocence. 

“I had nothing to do with that! You wanna talk about poor lookouts? How about we never put Rowan on scout duty ever again? Why did we think it was a good idea to put the damn light-weaver on lookout, at night time?” 

The two girls both turned to look at you. “Hey! Why ‘m I getting the blame for that? It was Jade’s idea! She said to ‘let him have a go’, so don’t you look at me like that!” You couldn’t suppress your wicked smile, feeling a little at fault but honestly, not giving a rat’s ass. “Is it my imagination or did Jade shift into a hamster and hide herself in the pet shop just to bite the finger of the guy who cut her off that one time.”

“Oh my god no she did! I remember that! She came back with a shit-eating grin saying she ‘got the fucker’ and we were all so confused!” Morgana cackled, the three of you reminiscing over the time Jade had returned from shopping only to find out she’d been pretending to be a hamster for the last four hours in the hopes the motherfucker who cut her off on the road would somehow waltz in. How she managed to actually pull it off blew your minds. How she even knew he’d come in at some point that day was even more impressive. 

Bubbles of rapturous laughter died away as reality settled in your chest, the silence of the night overtaking you once again. “What happens after this…?” You asked quietly, slightly fearful of ruining the moment. But the two girls by your side just sighed, having clearly been asking themselves the same thing.

“Who knows? We gotta get them back first.” Morgo replied with equal quiet, the looming mission now growing ever-present. “But Erin, for the love of all that is both holy and unholy, will you please tell Atlas you love him? Don’t know about the others, but I’m getting real sick of the constant glances of longing between the two of you. Makes a girl lonely, ya know?” She emphasised her point by shoving you in her direction, in turn sending you colliding with the green-haired girl by your side. She shoved you back into the redhead, and you had to tighten your arms around theirs to get them to stop. You weren’t a damn weapon!

Well, not in this context anyway.

“Yeah yeah, alright. Probably would be a good time anyway, with heightened emotions and all that. But we do realise they're not just gonna waltz out of there with us, right? Kreva’s probably done to us what he did to Jade and just forced them all to forget about us.” Erin spoke your fears into reality. It had been on your mind, the idea that Rowan wouldn’t even know who you were when you saw him again, but that was a bridge you were going to have to cross when you got to it. 

“Then we’ll just do what they did last time. Bamf them the fuck out of there with Kurt.” Morgana explained plainly as if it were the easiest solution in the world. When, in reality, it would only most likely work for Atlas. Joes could also teleport and Rowan could disintegrate into the light the same way you could through the dark. Naji would hopefully be too caught up with Jean to notice he’d been snatched away, but that plan was still apparently a raging debate. 

“Can Kurt do that? I mean, he could only do it a few times before all hell broke loose before,” Erin raised, her fingers fiddling the hem of her oversized hoodie, and you shrugged in response. Honestly, you didn’t know what was going to happen, though you knew one thing was certain, and that was getting Rowan back.

We’ll stay in touch, right? After all of this? Like, we’re not just gonna go our separate ways and never speak again. Like, we’ll still talk to each other…? Right?” You could hear the broken uncertainty in Morgana’s voice, another unanswered question. You wanted to. Fuck did you want to. These people were your family. You didn’t want them to leave just yet.

“Yeah… yeah. Course we will. Right, Erin?” You prompted her awkward silence.

“Erin?” Morgana leaned to look across you straight into the girl’s avoiding gaze.

“I… I don’t know. I’d like to. But it’s just… ya know, we’ve been through so much. We should learn how to exist without each other. How to live our own lives.”

She had a point. Ever since restoring your memories, all you’ve thought about was getting NLMO bacl together. But what if not everyone wanted to be together? What if, like Erin had just said, some of them wanted to grow apart? Start their own journeys that didn’t involve experiments or toruture or co-existing with people who could be taken and fundamentally changed at any minute. 

“I get that…” You offered quietly, earning yourself a look of indignation from Morgana and a look of gratitude from Erin. “Myself excluded, it’s hard to imagine any of the others lead extremely fulfilling lives in the seven years after the facility was destroyed. Maybe Erin has a point…” you paused, turning to Morgana’s thoughtfully hurt face. “Maybe it is the time for us to find our own ways. Obviously, that doesn’t mean we won’t be in touch with each other.”

“Exactly!” Erin encouraged with a broad smile, nodding emphatically as Morgana’s expression lightened slightly. 

“I guess so. I just… I don’t really know who I am outside of Nimlo. I’m sorta–”

“On the outside?”

Kurt’s voice chimed from above you, and the three of you looked up to see him swinging like a large, wingless bat from one of the windows. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I could hear you from my room. But I understand, Morgana.” Using his tail, he slowly lowered himself so he could drop to the floor, not wanting to startle the three of you any further by disappearing and reappearing in a cloud of smoke. “I uh– I know what it’s like to be on the outside of things…” He admitted quietly, almost sheepishly, and you cast a glance at Erin, who in turn wiggled her eyebrows at you.

“Yeah? What did you do?” She queried, looking the mutant up and down in a way that was just shy of innocent. 

“I stuck around here. Found my purpose. My purpose was with these people. Perhaps you find yours too.” You suppressed your knowing grin, the man’s shy smile making you almost giddy as Morgana pretended to think it over, placing her fingers on her chin theatrically. 

“Huh… Thanks for the advice, elf-man. I’ll think about it.” She winked in true Morgana fashion, and you gently tugged on Erin’s arm to leave the two of them out in the starlight, letting them have their moment the same way they let you have yours with Logan. 

“They’d be cute…” Erin mused, and you snorted a laugh, shrugging off Logan’s jacket as the warmth of the mansion made you almost sweat beneath the leather. 

“She’ll eat him alive.” You responded flatly, opening the door to the kitchen only for your eyes to land upon three mugs atop the table, the one in the centre you knew all too well, and the aroma of hot chocolate greeting your nose. Marshmallows slowly melted atop the surface, and you let yourself hum a smile as you lifted your mug to read the little, crinkled piece of paper beneath it, a brown circle staining the paper.

‘Cold out there. Warm up before coming to bed. I don’t mean you, Morgana. L. xx’

“I think I’m in love with your boyfriend,” Erin stated with a wry grin, lifting one of the three mugs to her lips and savouring the sweet treat. You sighed wistfully, letting the rich aromas warm you soul with the tenderness of the gesture.

“Yeah. I love him too.”

“Who are we collectively in love with?” Morgana asked, not too far behind the two of you having finished her conversation with Kurt. You didn’t exactly know what the two of them spoke about, but there was an extra kick in her step that hadn’t been present beforehand. You guessed, whatever it was, her life had some kind of direction now. 

“Logan.” You and Erin replied in unison, and Morgana nodded in exaggerated understanding, her eyes too falling on the sweet treat with an even sweeter meaning. 

“Was this him?”

“Yep.” You answered proudly, leaning against the counter, both hands cupped around the heat of the mug. 

“Oh girl you got it good. Do you know how good you got it? Cuz you got. It. Good.” Morgana hummed into her drink, and you really didn’t know how she managed to guzzle down half of the mug’s contents considering it was still scalding hot. But the way she sighed in satisfaction had you chortling. “Why can I have a smoking hot boyfriend who makes hot chocolate for me?”

“Because yours is busy pining from the room upstairs,” Erin commented over the steam of her drink, and you clamped your lips tightly shut, eyes widening as you knew Morgana definitely would have heard her.

“Aaaaand that’s my cue. Have a good night you two. Please try not to kill each other, it’s so tricky to get bloodstains out of this flooring.” You grinned, opening up one of the top cupboards and stealing a packet of smoked mixed nuts before you left, still clutching your hot drink in both hands. There was no way Logan would already be asleep by the time you joined him in bed, and you also knew there was no way he would say no to having a little pre-bed snack. Usually, that meant he’d lie between your thighs for hours, but you didn’t think you had the energy to let him have his way with you tonight. The mixed nuts were more of a distraction tactic than anything else. 

“Night girlie!”

“Sleep well, and please don’t be too loud if you have sex!” Morgana called after you and you sniggered under your breath. No promises, Morgana. You were making no promises.

Maybe you were the kind of person to bite at your cuticles and pull at the skin of your lips. You never thought you were, but more recently you’d found yourself with loose skin clutched between your teeth that you’d torn from your body. The air in the Blackbird was thick with anticipation, with silence accompanying the low hum of the jet engines and the constant roaring of blue flame. With Morgana and Kurt opposite you, Logan and Erin on either side of you, and Ororo, Scott, Jean and Kitty each taking up one of the seats, you’d all assembled that morning to finalise the plan of attack. It had taken Scott another few days after that argument to finally come around and agree to the idea of Jean occupying Naji whilst the rest of you set to work evacuating, and whilst he still wasn’t keen on the idea, Charles had managed to placate him with the reassurance that he would be right there with her from Cerebro. Nobody was going to be left on their own during this. You all knew you had somewhat of a battle coming up, and none of you were about to leave someone behind. 

It wasn’t in the nature of the team.

Your leg bounced slightly, every situation playing out in your head, what you were about to be faced with turning in your mind like a carousel of anxiety. Rowan. Rowan. What state would he be in when you saw him again? It had only been two weeks, but in all honesty, it had felt like months since you’d escaped again. It was highly likely all memories of you would have been replaced, but that didn’t mean you were ready to see the look of unfamiliarity on his face. Was this how Logan felt? The time he came for you? Or did he not have any ideas?

You glanced to where he’d settled his hand atop yours. You found it endearing, how he disguised his own comfort as providing comfort for you. You knew he didn’t like flying. He’d told you as such months ago. It freaked him out, being thousands of feet in the air with nothing but physics and steel standing in the way of plummeting to death. Well, some of you would die. If you landed in the middle of a field during the day, you’d be screwed for sure. 

Twisting your wrist, you intertwined your hands, slotting your fingers between his knuckles and squeezing gently. He raised a brow, turning from where he was looking out beyond the cockpit to where you were focused on tracing the patterns of the steel on the floor.  A thumb brushed gently across the back of your hand.

“Y’okay?” He murmured, and you took a deep breath, quickly debating between being truthful and everyone on the ship knowing how little confidence you had in this plan, and lying to him, which you really fucking hated doing. You knew he hated it too, but you didn’t know if you could face the uncertain looks that were bound to find their way to you if you were honest.

“Fine…” but you let him see right through to your soul, your eyes crystal clear as you showed him just how not fine you really were. You were terrified. Of seeing Kreva again, of seeing Rowan again, of something going wrong. And there were so many things that could go wrong. 

He responded by wordlessly pressing a kiss to your temple, the scruff of his beard lightly scratching the side of your face as you leaned into him, his hand leaving yours to wrap around your shoulders, resting his chin atop your head. You sighed into him, closing your eyes to bask in his scent. In his touch. This was home, for you. Wherever he was, that was home. Logan was your home. 

You hoped he knew that.

“Landing in five. Everyone ready?” Scott called from the pilot’s seat, flicking various switches above his head as you heard the clunk of the landing gear beneath your feet, the world around you fogging up as you dipped below the cloud cover, Scott engaging the cloaking device the moment you all saw the twilight ground beneath. Your heart leapt into your throat as you peeked around Kitty’s seat, the telltale lights of the ‘environmental research lab’ illuminating acres of land in the darkness. From the outside, it really did look innocent. Somewhere that was focused on saving the world through renewable energy. But you knew what lurked below. You’d hidden the skeletons in the closet for Kreva too many times to count. 

A bubble of rage curled in your gut. You’d thought long and hard about what you wanted to say to the man who’d orchestrated so much agony in your life. There was nothing you could do about his great grandfather, the fucking genius behind the whole idea, but you sure as hell could make his grandson wish he was never fucking born. 

In fact, you intended to.

Erin secured the various pockets on her cargo pants, each labelled with a different symbol for different plants. Morgana skillfully flicked about the butterfly knife in her hands, before slotting it back into the guard at her left wrist. It was the perfect position for a quick slice to her palm. 

You guessed everyone was ready, from the grim looks they gave each other. You suppose you were too. Or at least,a s ready as you could be before facing the horrors of your past once again, hopefully for the last time. With a nod to both Erin and Morgana, the three of you stood, taking a collective deep breath. 

“We got this,” Morgana said with more confidence than you felt, but you nodded along anyway. If you didn’t truly feel it, you supposed you’d just have to gaslight yourself into feeling it. This was the first stage of the plan. Draw them out. Since Erin had said Kreva apparently needed all of you to convince the government his experiments have yielded helpful results, you knew he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to get the three of you back in one fell swoop whilst assuming he has the upper hand. That was when Jean, who would remain on the ship, would take hold of Naji, and Kurt would start the evacuation. Scott, Ororo and Logan were mainly backups to keep the guards from interfering. But it was too simple, which was why your mind was working overtime to try and plan for every eventuality. 

Honestly, if he knew, Scott would be so proud of you.

“‘Course we do. Easy stuff in comparison to what we’re used to. This is nothing.” Erin grinned, and you honestly couldn’t believe she was so relaxed, considering how close she was to getting Atlas back. You would have thought she would have been a little more anxious, but you were glad to see she was holding herself up pretty damn well.

“Hey,” Logan uttered your name, inhaling a long breath as you turned back to him. This was the part he was least looking forward to, not that he was particularly looking forward to any of this. But simply having to watch you walk into danger, willingly, he knew it was going to tear him apart when it was first agreed upon, and now the moment was here, it was a shock he was able to keep himself together. “If anythin’… goes wrong, call f’me, ‘kay?” he braced both his hands on either side of your neck, his thumbs positioned beneath your jaw as if you would even try to look away from him. “I’ll hear ya. No matter where you are. I’ll always hear ya.”

Your arms snaked around his neck, fingers winding into the soft locks at the back of his head. “I will. I promise.” You vowed, gasping sharply as he fixed his lips to yours in a kiss you wished could last a lifetime. His mouth moulded passionately against yours in long, languid movements, as if he had all the time in the world. Your heart cracked slightly, refusing to entertain the possibility that, if something goes wrong, this could be the last time you hold him. But you quickly shoved all and any thought like that to the back of your mind. You wouldn’t let that happen, and you sure as shit knew Logan wouldn’t let that happen.

You parted breathlessly, whispering his name against his lips, you lashes fluttering open to find him already looking down at you, eyes brimming with shattering adoration. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 

Logan shook his head, resting his brow against yours. “Don’t need to. Said you’re mine for as long as I’ll have ya.”

“Til one of us keels over.” You recalled, a small smile pulling at your lips. “We’ve got time.”

“I know.” He breathed, though he was still reluctant to let go of you. He knew he had to, for the sake of this one last mission, but he found himself hesitating. 

“I love you.” You whispered against his lips, and he hated how it sounded like a goodbye. It wasn’t, of course. He’d go through hell and back to make sure it wasn’t, but it still tugged at his heart.

“I love you too.” He responded with another press of his lips against yours. The ship shook slightly as the gear touched the ground, and Logan finally released you from his embrace, stepping back as if he had to physically keep himself from bolting after you the moment you left the hold. You knew how he felt. It was taking all of your concentration to walk away from him, every step feeling as if cement had filled your legs, heavy boots thumping against the ramp as you, Erin and Morgana stepped out into the cool night breeze, the whispering of trees left you feeling slightly unnerved, as if nature itself was alerting Kreva of your presence. 

Taking the lead, with two members of your old family flanking both sides, you steeled your nerves, flicking your wrist to summon three figures of shadow to tail further behind. They were a signal for the others. If one disappears, things have gone to plan. Two meant standby. And if all three disappeared…

It meant things had gone terribly, horrendously wrong. 

You broke through the lining of trees, the glass double doors looming above you as your boots cracked and crunched against the gravel car park for guards disguised as employees. It was no wonder nobody did much research into this place when on the outside it looked so inconspicuous. There was a slight whirr of movement atop the left-hand side of the door, a white security camera twisting and zooming in on your location. You knew exactly who was watching you, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your skin crawl. 

“KREVA!” You shouted, your voice echoing through the trees, several crows flying out from the canopy behind you. Shadows whipped and writhed around your feet as you stood just outside the cone of light from the interior, Morgana’s blood floating above her hand where she’d nicked it with her knife, Erin’s hand buried deep within her pocket, her fingers no doubt tightly wrapped around a cluster of seeds. 

A crackle of static slashed through the resulting silence of your own shout, and you looked to the other side of the door where two orange lights fluttered beneath two small speakers. 

“Well well well, I’d love to say what a surprise, but that would be a lie.” Kreva’s smug voice resonated through the car park and you bristled instantly, your lips pulling back into a snarl. “I’ve been waiting for you, Eight. Quite patiently, might I add? I could have just come and raided that quaint little school again, but where would be the fun in that? It’s much more fun to watch you deal with the betrayal when you realise what’s really been going on.” 

You had to remind yourself not to ask questions. You couldn’t appear clueless, that way he would know for sure he had the upper hand. The thought of being behind on intel scared the shit out of you. How could he possibly be ahead of you? You’d been gathering information for two weeks, and you knew Kurt was extremely careful. So how the fuck could he possibly–

Your blood froze as you felt the slightest brush of something against your boot, and looking down you could feel your face drain as tiny, scattered seeds littered about your feet. Before you had a chance to whip back, a shoulder collided with the centre of your back, sending you sprawling into the light, several heads of giant Venus Fly Traps surged towards you. With a desperate flick of your wrist, you released the hold you had on the three figures back at the ship, and you knew Logan would notice immediately before a sharp pressure across your chest squeezed the air from your lungs. Morgana’s screech of fury was cut dangerously short, and you refused to let the fear of her death consume you, your hands bound by your sides by the furious clamping of teeth.

Erin stepped passed the two of you and watched Kreva appear from within the facility, the doors of a lift opening from inside the lobby, the gangly motherfucker almost waltzing as he approached the double doors. Craning your neck, your eyes met Erin’s, and you could see her internal battle between explaining herself and staying silent. 

“I didn’t have a choice…” she said after a while, tears lining her eyes. “He only needs you and Rowan. That’s what he said. He didn’t need us. And if I handed you over… he’d set the rest of us free.” She finally explained, and your throat tore with a scream of rage. How fucking stupid could she be? Did she really not know, after all this time, Kreva was fucking lying? 

“And Morgana?” you strained, watching grief pass across Erin’s features, her eyes flickering with sorrow. 

“She wouldn’t have understood. But you always wanted to protect us, right? And this way, you can protect us and set us free at the same time. I… I’m sorry, about Morgana. But this was the only way.” 

“I should have– fucking killed you!” You hissed, writhing within the jaws of the Fly Trap, crying out as one of the teeth flicked back and pierced your arm, heated blood flowing down your elbow. 

“Now now, Eight. That’s no way to talk to your family now is it?” Kreva held out his arms as if he expected Erin to run and embrace him. But at least she had the good sense to hold back, eyeing the man suspiciously. “I know what you’re thinking. How could Six have possibly told me what was going on?” He jeered, spinning where he stood as a familiar roar echoed in the distance. Your breath petrified in your chest

“Logan…” you rasped, desperation clawing at your limbs as you fought to tear your arm from the Trap’s teeth, uncaring whether the plant tore through flesh and muscle. You’d endured worse.

“You know what’s just so darn wonderful about the age of technology? It’s that nobody really notices how much or how little time someone spends on their phone! And when we received that first call from Six, oh you can just imagine how excited I was!” Your eyes flew wide as you remembered. It wasn’t something you had particularly took note of, and it wasn’t like Erin had been glued to her phone, but there had been a few instances you thought she was on it at inappropriate times. 

Like in planning meetings, for example. 

“We had a deal, Kreva. Eight for Atlas. I don’t care about the others, just give me Atlas and I’ll turn her over.” Erin clenched her fist and you grit your teeth against the mouth of the Fly Trap tightening around you, spots swimming in your vision. 

“Yes yes, alright. Five!” Your head spun as you watched your brother materialise from the light, Atlas’ elbow held tightly in his grip as he brought him through too. You watched his golden eyes fall on you, recognition flaring in his irises and you thought for one small moment Kreva hadn’t messed with his memory. 

That was before his expression darkened with fury and he extended his hand, a blade of glowing light forming around his arm, the same way you could create one with shadow.

“Take a breath, Five. I know. But revenge is a dish best served cold, especially against one’s own family. I remember the day she abandoned you without so much as a glance back. Do you?”

So that’s what Kreva had replaced you with. Memories of abandonment. You opened your mouth to scream again, only for Kreva to place a finger to your lips, Erin’s hand squeezing even tighter. “Shh, shush now. I haven’t even got to the best part yet. You see, I know of the little backup squad you have in the clearing over there. I didn’t just want Six’s betrayal to tear you apart, Subject Eight. I wanted to break you down, for everything you’ve done to me.” Quivering rage seeped into his voice before he took a breath, that same condescending smile pulling at his lips the moment after he composed himself. “So I sent Naji after your boyfriend. I’d be powerful with both you and Five on my side, but with The Wolverine as well? I’d be nigh on unstoppable.” He whispered, and terror replaced every furious fibre of your being. You hadn’t heard anything from the rest of the team since Logan’s roar. That was until heavy boots crunched through the undergrowth accompanied by the sound of something weighty being dragged along. 

“Who needs an army when you have The Wolverine?!” Kreva called out to an invisible audience as Logan lumbered through the tree line, a body slung across his shoulder and another two dragged behind in each hand. A sob wracked from your chest as you noticed his dark eyes, no trace of the fond warmth you’d come to find in those hazel irises. Covered in blood, Logan threw the two bodies at his feet, before carefully lowering the third from his shoulder. Naji, with a singed hole punctured through the centre of his chest, lay still on the gravel. 

“Shot him ‘fore I could do anythin’. Rest’re dead.” He growled and grief shattered your fragile heart. In one fell swoop, everything you loved had been ripped from beneath your feet and you felt yourself plummet, falling completely limp in the jaws of the Venus Fly Trap as the cold realisation settled in your gut. 

You’d lost. You’d lost everything.

Kreva sighed dramatically, kicking his heels against the ground as he crossed to nudge Naji with his foot. “Shame. Would have been useful to readjust her memories. Not to worry though, we’ll figure something out. Who’re these lovely specimens?” He asked, crouching low next to a blood-soaked Ororo and an unconscious Scott.

“That’s the shit-stick who shot One. That’s the bitch who fried Three.” Logan responded the complete lack of emotion in his voice dragging you deeper into disparity. Joes was dead too, it seemed. What had happened to Jean? To Kitty? You didn’t want to think about it. You already knew the answer. The crimson dripping from Logan’s knuckles told you all you needed to know. 

“You see, Eight? Things could have been so much smoother. Nobody had to die but now look. Everyone you’ve ever loved is either dead or against you. And I can’t force you to forget about it because One is dead too. We’re now the same, you and I. We both have to live with the consequences of our actions.” He spoke in mock mourning, and your eyes slid from Kreva to Logan as he was escorted to your side.

“Please…” You whispered thickly, whether you were begging him to remember or begging him to kill you, you honestly didn’t know. But a hollow void opened in your chest when you couldn’t see any trace of recognition in his eyes. He didn’t know who you were. 

Now you knew what it felt like.

“Kreva.” Erin prompted with steel lacing her tone. “Our deal.”

“Right, right, yeah. Uhm, actually, no.” Before she could react, Rowan took a swift step forward and with a swipe of his blade, cut a clean slice through her throat. Erin gurgled a gasp, her hands slowly reaching for the fresh wound, thick rivers of blood staining her pale skin, leaking down her neck, soaking her shirt. She fell to her knees, eyes wide with shock, the Fly Trap loosening its grip around your body as it died alongside her, shrivelling and sinking into nothing.  

You hit the ground with a soft thud, rolling slightly before bracing your body up on your elbows. You couldn’t turn around. Couldn’t turn and face everything you’d lost. Morgana was dead. Erin was dead. Kitty was dead. Scott, Ororo, Jean, Joes, Naji… 

And the Logan you knew, the Logan you loved, he was gone too. The sharp tip of a blinding blade sliced a thin line beneath your chin, tilting your head up to look into the eyes of your brother, eyes burning with loathing and betrayal. How ironic it seemed. 

You could let him do it. Lean forward and let the blade pierce your throat, die gurgling as Erin had if your body didn’t dissolve first. But you knew you couldn’t. Your subconscious strength to survive against all odds wouldn’t let you. 

With the slight crunch of gravel, Kreva crouched down before you, tucking a grimy lock of hair back from your face with disgusting care. “I’ve spent too long orchestrating this to let anything happen to you. Now, I know it will be harder without Naji to adjust that irritating little memory of yours, but you need to come back to us, Eight. We need you. Your brother needs you,” he murmured with the viper venom of an unfaithful lover. You didn’t fight it. You couldn’t. You let the yearning to be needed, the yearning to save consume you, and despite all the pain, all the agony Kreva had caused, you nodded slightly. “You were always my favourite subject, Eight,” he whispered, before turning back to Atlas and Rowan, the former’s eyes still trained on Erin’s lifeless body. “Deal with the bodies in the clearing. Wolverine, if you would be so kind.” He gestured back to where you hadn’t moved from the floor, and Logan stepped over you, roughly hooking his hands beneath your arms to tug you to your feet. An hour ago, you would have melted into his body, found comfort in those very same arms. 

Now all you felt was fear. Icy terror trickled down your spine where once you’d felt warmth. And whether it was because you still hadn’t processed everything you’d just lost in a heartbeat, you couldn’t discern, but your shattered heart felt the slightest phantom caress of his thumb against your bicep, the ghost of a reassuring squeeze.

The same gesture of comfort he’d give you if you were anxious in a meeting, or stressed before a class. 

Kreva glanced from where he was watching Atlas and Rowan stalk into the trees back to you, his brows raising as his eyes settled at the hollow of your throat, the golden locket glinting in the low light. With a tilt of his head, he took a step toward you, reaching out to where it rested against your neck.

“Firefly.”

Your spine straightened, breath caught in your throat as you realised. You hadn’t imagined the touch. It wasn’t some fucked up production of your overwhelming grief. With a swift slash of steel and a thick, wet crunch of splitting bone, there was a beat before you registered what had happened.

Kreva’s outstretched hand twitched on the gravel, blood staining the stone, no longer connected to his arm. There was a deafening scream of agony from the man before all hell broke loose. Shock had locked your limbs as you were shoved back, the crackle of lightning and resonating boom of thunder split the sky overhead, blasts of red energy igniting the treeline as a pitched ringing pierced your eardrums repeatedly. 

“Morgana…” You whispered, finally coming back to your senses and almost falling over yourself to get to the red-head lying limp on the floor. Sharp stones and pebbles bit into your knees as you skidded to her side, desperately rolling her onto her back to assess the damage. Her neck was swollen badly, bruises blooming around her throat. With two shaky fingers, you held them against her wrist, praying you’d feel something, anything that might even resemble a pulse. 

You waited, whilst various screams and roars echoed around you, you waited with bated breath, trying to concentrate on just feeling for her, your own panic rising the longer it took. 

“C’mon Morgo… c’mon!” You breathed frantically, pressing harder into her wrist as if you could pull a pulse from her arteries yourself. You tried to take a deep, calming breath, your own racing pulse getting in the way of feeling one for her. Quietening your mind, if only for a moment, you focussed, heart, leaping the moment you felt the slightest push from her wrist. Faint, slow, but there. 

A cry of relief tore from your throat as you gathered her in your arms, pressing your brow against hers. The rapid crunch of feet against gravel caused you to snap your head up, arms tightening around her body protectively, baring your teeth as Atlas raced towards you, his brows pinched. 

“It’s me, it’s me!” He held his hands up in surrender, and you blinked at him, confusion clouding your mind.

“Wh–– How? I don’t–”

“I don’t remember everything. Not like you do. But after you escaped, Kreva was so focused on Rowan that he almost forgot I was here. By the time he remembered, I let him think Naji had already worked on me. He showed me what I needed to know, that this was all a fucking lie.” His hands started to glow that healing blue, glowing particles flowing from his palms to wrap around Morgana’s neck, entering through the layers of her skin and repairing whatever it was Erin had broken.

Erin…

Oh fuck.

“Altas, I–”

“I’ll get to her in a second. Just… just give me a moment.” He hissed, the bruises around Morgana’s neck fading quickly as if they were never there. You still didn’t understand. Less than a minute ago, you were drowning in helplessness, forcing yourself to accept that you’d lost. Kreva had won. And now, as you finally raised your head to the chaos around you, you watched as he retreated into the facility, alarms blaring, crimson lights flaring.

And Logan, bloodstained and heaving, looking back to meet your eye. With one last glance to Atlas and a quickly healing Morgana, you struggled to your feet, taking a shaky step toward him. Then another. And another. 

Logan hesitated as he saw the trepidation on your face, his claws sinking back between his knuckles when you paused before him. He knew what you were searching for, your exhausted gaze flickering across his features and he let you see. Let you see that none of it had been real. Jean was alive and working on an unconscious Joes. Scott and Ororo were okay, Kitty by their side after securing the car park, all and any guards now buried beneath the ground suffocating. Kurt was alright, currently by Morgana’s side after bamfing onto the scene, his concern etched into his pinched eyebrows. 

“It was the only way we could get to you…” he explained softly, his voice bringing you back from the depths of suspicion, your features falling slack as you surged forward into his arms, and he wasted no time in wrapping you up, securing you against his chest.

“I thought I lost you,” You whispered raggedly against his neck, allowing the paralysing fear to leech from your heart. “I thought Naji–”

“He tried,” Logan interrupted tenderly, his fingers winding through the back of your hair. “But Scott got to him first. I’m sorry, Firefly. I’m so sorry. Joes is okay, Jean’s working on him now, but there wasn’t anything we could do for Naji…” He explained quietly, and you nodded a little numbly. In the face of losing everything, you guessed this was the best outcome you could have hoped for. 

“Where’s Rowan?” You asked, leaning into Logan’s touch as he cradled the side of your face, pulling you from the crook of his neck to look into your eyes.

“Still with Kreva. Bastard disappeared the moment Storm lit the place up. I think he’s lookin’ to burn everythin’ to the ground…”

Your breath hitched, remembering that this was Kreva’s backup plan. If he couldn’t get you back, he’d destroy everything and leave no evidence. Only the words of those who’d survive.

If anyone would survive. 

“I have to stop him. Rowan will destroy himself.” You explained, panic solidifying into determination as several muffled shouts echoed through the car park, torchlights waving erratically in the darkness and body upon armoured body flooded the entrance to the facility, three rows of masked guards pointed guns towards you and Logan. A low snarl left his lips, and he subtly moved you behind him, removing his hands from your body before his claws split through his skin.

A delicate hand on your shoulder made your head turn, Kitty’s steely smile telling you all you needed to know. She could get you there. Phase through bullets and bodies and get you to Rowan. To where you needed to be.

“Phasers forever, right?” She grinned, and you felt your own mouth split into a smile. Ororo flanked her left side, Scott sliding to a stop by Logan’s right. You knew this was it. This was the make or break. Either you succeeded here or you failed but no matter what, everything ended tonight. Right here. Where it all began. 

“Hey… freakshow!” You whipped to look behind you at the croaky, strained voice of Morgana, looking a little worse for wear but nonetheless on her feet. You sobbed a laugh of disbelief. “Give him hell for me, yeah? Fucker gets what’s comin’ to him.”

You grit your teeth, sending her a solid affirming nod, before turning back to the ranks in front of you. The back of Logan’s hand grazed your fingers, and it warmed your heart when you realised, even when faced with countless adversaries, he was still mindful not to hurt you with his claws. You brushed your thumb over his raised knuckles, bending your knees in preparation for the sprint of a lifetime, adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

“Let’s fucking go.” You hissed, taking the first step forward. 

And that was all that was needed for gunfire to reign supreme, bullets passing through your body thanks to Kitty’s touch on your shoulder, racing harmlessly through the prattle of shrapnel, Storm’s lightening striking the earth in front of you, Logan’s roar of pure, unfiltered rage fueling your every step. A burst of blinding hot energy exploded the front of the facility, rubble and brick crashing down in front of the door just as you stepped through the threshold, the immediate cacophony of battle muffling the moment you emerged on the other side. 

Pulling out of Kitty’s grip, you raced back to the ruined doorway, desperately pulling away rocks and wood. You needed to see him. You needed to make sure he was okay before you followed Rowan and Kreva. A loud thump rattled the remaining broken glass and you jumped back, watching as blood pooled on the floor, seeping through the remains of the porch. 

“We gotta go. They’ll be fine, okay? But they won’t be if you can’t stop Rowan.” Kitty urged, her hand returning to your shoulder to placate your panic. You knew she was right. You knew she was, and you knew you had to let it go. You trusted him. Of course you did. You trusted he would be okay. You’d seen him heal multiple times from so much worse than this. He’ll be okay.

He’ll be okay.

With a deep breath, you nodded, and she pulled your shoulder slightly in the direction of the elevator. It was surreal to think that, all this time, whilst you were screaming and suffering, this was above you. It looked no different to any other kind of research facility. Banners with cartoon images of trees hung from the ceiling, the words ‘Renewable Energy!’ plastered on every available surface. If you had the time, you would have looked around a bit to see just how the Kreva’s had managed to cover their tracks so damn well. But urgency pumped through your blood as you reached the elevator doors, almost punching the button through the damn wall.

But there was no response. No telltale ding. No little light. The power had been completely shut off. 

“Fuck’s sake!” You cursed, your eyes frantically searching for a shadow to slip into. But it was difficult to see with the crimson lighting constantly revolving in circles. This already wasn’t exactly going to plan, and with more voices dancing along from various forking hallways, you knew you were running out of time. 

“Okay, I got a plan,” Kitty stated confidently, crouching low to the seam of the doors and sticking her hand through the solid surface. “So, predictably, the elevator isn’t up here. But, I’m thinking that it’s gonna be real dark in the shaft, right?” She explained and you caught on quickly. “So I get us in there and you get us to the bottom without breaking either of our legs. Sound good?”

“Works for me.” You shrugged, sending one last look to the raging battle beyond the rubble. But when Kitty didn’t move, you looked back at her, raising a brow of confusion. “What?”

“Nothing… just wasn’t expecting you to agree, that’s all. Was kinda waiting for you to tell me you’ll figure it out yourself so yeah, a bit shocked…”

“Now is not the time.” You huffed, grabbing her wrist to place her hand back on your shoulder. “We’ll talk about my teamwork character arc later, ‘kay?” Kitty smiled wickedly, sticking half her body through the doors. 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

One moment you were in the lobby, the next you were falling through the elevator shaft. She was right above one thing. It was almost pitch black inside. Taking advantage of the low lighting, you gripped her tightly, releasing the threads on your body and pulling her into the shadows with you. The wind in your ears died instantly, and the feeling of gravity pulling you to your death ceased. You were nothing. You weighed nothing. You were a concept. Consciousness. A sense. You flowed like water and flew like time. 

And it took less than a second to drag yourself and Kitty down to the ceiling of the elevator below you, reassembling your molecules and knotting the threads of Kitty back together for her. She took a deep breath, her voice echoing up the shaft as she shook herself out. 

“God it always feels so weird! Does it feel weird when I phase you like that?” She asked, wiggling her fingers in front of her face to make sure they were all still there. You shook your head with a small chuckle, cracking your neck to the side. 

“Not really. Sure, it’s kinda weird to have shit pass straight through me, but not in this kinda way, I guess.” You shrugged, letting her gather herself back up before phasing the both of you through the ceiling of the elevator and through the closed doors. 

Now this was the facility you remembered. The images struck you like a ton of bricks. Clinical white hallways, bleached ceilings and walls, blinding lights on every damn surface. The stench of chemical cleaner and stale blood sent your empty stomach roiling and you had to fight the urge to dry retch. You knew where he’d be. At least, you could hazard a guess. There was always a room reserved for you and Rowan. It was your special little chamber where Kreva liked to run his experiments. A wall splitting the two of you, one drowned in shadow, the other illuminated with light. 

Steeling your nerves, you let your feet walk you down the world’s worst memory lane. For a place that had been destroyed seven years ago, they’d rebuilt it as if nothing had ever happened. Each corner was exactly the same. Each observation room was perfectly curated to mirror what it had been like before everything went to shit. It was all hauntingly familiar. 

“You okay…?” Kitty asked slowly, her eyes flickering across each laboratory you walked passed, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her you knew exactly what each and every room was for. You knew exactly what instruments lay where and what they did. You didn’t need her to know any of that. It wasn’t her burden to bear.

“Yeah… ‘m okay. S’wierd being back here, but I’m okay.” You responded truthfully, surprising yourself with how well you were taking it. It didn’t matter that every damn second you had to remind yourself you weren’t trapped here, and you were free and had been free of Kreva for the last two weeks, and the last seven years before that. You were okay. You would be okay. This was where everything ended. After this, you could do whatever the hell you wanted.

With Logan by your side. 

You rounded the corner and stopped as you came face to face with your past. Two doors stood opposite you. One for Five, and the other for Eight. For you. Kitty hung back as you squared your shoulders, taking the next few steps and using every ounce of faux confidence you could muster as you entered the code into the keypad, the one you’d seen Kreva or TS8 do so many damn times. With a hiss of machinery, the door slid open, and once again you had to remind yourself you were okay. He didn’t have you. You were free of him. 

The same table taunted you from the centre of the room. Worn leather straps lying limp on each four corners. You remembered every little detail of the steel. Every faded mark on the floor. You’d counted every little hole in the paneled ceiling and traced the round light above you as you waited for whatever experiment Kreva was about to run to start. What you never realised until now, however, was the one-way mirror across the far side of the room. You always assumed it was so you could watch whatever they were doing to you, simply yet another form of torture. But it only now occurred to you this was where the Kreva’s would watch from. This was where they would note down everything they discovered.

That was where he was now. You could almost fucking smell him. 

With a flick of your wrist, eight figures rose from the shadows in the room, each of them awaiting your command, twitching with apprehension. You didn’t need to say anything. You never did with them. Wordlessly, they each stood facing the mirror, arms raised, shadows writhing about their hands until they solidified into spiked maces. 

As one, eight shadows of your past shattered the glass effortlessly, shards of reflection scattering about their feet, revealing the observation room behind, the stench of fresh blood permeating the lab. 

Dissolving into the shadows, you reappeared beyond the window, finding a sick sense of satisfaction as you watched Kreva desperately clamber behind a console, papers and electronics clattering to the floor. You said nothing, those eight figures coming to stand patiently behind you, heads glitching and shifting. 

“I made you what you are.” He spat, blood dribbling from his mouth, his glasses shattered and sitting askew atop his nose, scarlet stump clutched against his chest. “This world would have torn you to pieces. I saved you from that. I harnessed your power. Everything I did was in the name of creating a better world!” 

You stalked forward with deadly quiet, letting the shadows overtake you and flank either side of the man whose family name had tortured you for over eighty years. You truly didn’t know what you would say to him if this moment ever came. You hadn’t let yourself think about it because you never thought it would.

But standing here, with all the power in your hands, a stark contrast to the rest of your life, you smiled. Not that warm, comforting smile you reserved only for the people you loved. You smiled like the edge of a knife, slicing through tender meat. You smiled like the adder before striking a rodent. You smiled like the shark after a meal. 

“You tortured me,” you began, one of the shadows lunging forward with clinical precision to land a blow through Kreva’s shoulder, relishing in the scream of agonised terror. “You tortured my friends,” another white-hot slice to his other hand, that same sick crunch of splitting bone as his hand flopped onto the floor. “You came for the people I care about,” a void-like hand thrust through his calf, blood and tendons exploding as the figure solidified its limb within his body, pieces of muscle and marrow splattering over the console and wall. “You tried to take the man I love,” you remembered vaguely Jade’s request, and though you didn’t command it, one of the shadows sent its foot straight into his crotch and Kreva doubled over, unable to scream through breathless agony. “And that very power you say you harnessed. That very power you nurtured,” you paused, crouching low and lifting his face akin to the way he’d done earlier at your lowest point. “I’m going to watch as it tears you apart.” You hissed, dropping his head to take a step back as every single on of those figures sank into his body, hiding within the shadows of his absent heart.

“Every part the demon I made you.” He gurgled, choking on his own blood.

“And so much more.” You responded as black tendrils entered his bloodstream, staining his veins, spiderwebbing up the side of his neck, invading his eyes before they rolled into the back of his head. You’d given them free rein to do what they wanted. You would let the shadows of your broken family get their revenge in any way they chose. 

Kreva convulsed on the floor, his back bowing as if possessed, limbs twitching and locking, foam gathering at the corners of his mouth as his death was elongated, pain creasing his eyes, mouth agape in a silent scream as your shadows tore apart every fibre of his being, 

On a molecular level.

He fell silent for a moment, stilling on the ground, before there was a loud, earsplitting crack, and you barely had time to raise a solid wall of darkness before entrails and tissue painted every surface crimson, white sharks of bone piercing into the walls, embedding into the ceiling. 

The wet dripping of pulp falling from the ceiling was the only sound in the following silence, the weight of the moment settling on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees. 

He was dead.

Kreva was dead. 

The man who’d caused so much pain. So much terror. Who’d forced you to commit the worst acts of humanity, the sole reason for the overwhelming self-hatred…

He was dead. 

You felt a sob rise in your throat, and you set it free, your shoulders shaking from the sheer force of your cries. Every moment of torture. Every fibre of agony released in your earthshaking screams, your voice scratching, tearing at your throat. You knew the moment couldn’t last. You knew you still had to find Rowan. But with Kreva dead, your chances of getting him back had just increased tenfold. 

Bracing your hands against the cool floor, you let yourself tremble under the weight of freedom, feeling the ghost of shackles around your wrists and ankles fall away, the claws around your neck releasing. 

“You killed him…”

You drew in a shaky breath, the familiarity of that voice tugging at the threads of your heart. Struggling to your feet, you turned to face your brother, Rowan standing in the shadows of the room made for you, his eyes wide with an emotion you couldn’t quite read.

“Yeah. It’s over, Rowan. You’re safe now. We’re all safe now. You can come home with me,” you breathed, extending your hand toward him through the shattered mirror. “You don’t have to hurt anymore. I’m here. I’m here…” you reassured, taking a step toward the gap between you with the intention of drawing him into your arms.

“You killed him…” he said again, his expression shifting to something you recognised all too well. “You abandoned me here, to suffer at the hands of these demons, and you killed the only man who showed me any kindness…”

You blinked as the lights on the console flared slightly. “No… that’s what he made you think. That’s what you remember because it was a memory he put there. But it isn’t real. Come with me. I can show you. Please… I can show you everything.” You begged, suffering the slice to your hand as you slid through the shattered glass of the mirror, now standing opposite him, arms open. “It’s okay… you’re safe now. He’s gone. You’re–”

You didn’t have time to finish your sentence before a flare of pure light from the hallways beyond blasted you to the side, your spine cracking against the wall, head splitting with the impact. Your vision blurred slightly, pain exploding in your mind as you struggled to regain your breath. Through the swimming haze, you could see Kitty’s arm on the door through the doorway, the rest of her body lying still on the ground beyond. 

“You took everything from me.” Rowan loomed over you, glowing wings of light flaring wide from his shoulder blades. “Now I’m going to take it all back.”

Logan heaved a snarling breath as he retracted his claws from the helmeted head of yet another faceless guard, casting a calculating glance at the bodies littering the ground, some fried, some missing various limbs, but all dead. Soaked in blood, he watched as Scott sent another beam through one of the last men standing, Ororo sending another flying over the treetops with pinpoint accuracy. 

The car park fell still as the final assailant was annihilated, falling headless to its knees, body twitching before falling still. It was eerie how silent the night felt after so much bloodshed, but Logan’s thoughts immediately turned back to you. You were down there somewhere, stopping Rowan however you could. Was Kreva still alive? Or had you already dealt with him?

A darker question entered his head, and it drove him to move. 

Were you still alive?

“Scott, I need a doorway,” was all he said, pacing over to the crumbled ruins blocking the door. Surprisingly, there was no flood of protests from Cyclops, only a sharp nod of agreement before a beam of white-hot energy sailed through the rubble, melting rocks and burning wood effortlessly. Logan breathed a quick “Thanks,” before breaking into a run, mindful to avoid the liquid fire Scott had created before he was jogging through the lobby, red lights reflecting off every surface. It was the perfect representation of his mind when his ears twitched, catching a distant scream from below. 

He breathed your name, panic sending his heart racing as he spared a quick glance to the rest of the team behind him, Ororo immediately picking up on his change of demeanour. 

“Go. We’ll clean up the rest here.” She urged as more torches pointed down either side of the hallway into the lobby. How many more of these fuckers were there? But he trusted they could handle it. He had to trust them if he wanted to get to you. With a sharp nod of gratitude, Logan turned back to the elevator, his claws sinking through the surface and cutting out a square large enough to fit through. He couldn’t look back, not as the prattle of gunfire started up again.

With his heart in his throat, Logan plunged into the darkness, slicing his claws through either side of the steel walls to slow his descent, sparks and the pitched squeal of slicing metal accompanied his fall until his feat touched a solid surface. Crouching low, he sliced through the top of the elevator, jumping through the gap before repeating the same thing on the double doors. He remembered the last time he was here, the familiar panic as he searched for you, hoping that you’d be okay, praying that you’d still be alive. He felt that same urgency now as he raced down the hallways, the lights above flaring and dimming erratically. 

Rowan.

It had to be. 

There couldn’t be any other explanation. 

The thought had him moving faster, enhanced hearing picking up every clash of power, every hiss of shadow and burst of light. 

Every pained gasp. 

You panted heavily, blood leaking from your nose as you once again rose to your feet, shadows swirling around your finger on one hand, your other cloaked in a blade of darkness as you faced your brother. 

No, this wasn’t your brother anymore. This was Solaris. This was your equal and your opposite. A similar rivulet of crimson flowed down over his lip, the result of the harsh punch you’d thrown at him before, his nose now sitting at a crooked angle. The wall between your rooms had been obliterated, dust and rubble littering the ground where he’d thrown you through into his assigned lab. Darkness in the light. Light in the darkness. You opposed each other, twin wings flaring threateningly. 

You couldn’t talk him out of this. You needed him to back down of his own free will. You couldn’t teleport him out of here like you could the others. But you knew he was too far gone. You knew you couldn’t get him to stop.

But you couldn’t fail here. 

A sharp call of your name distracted you for a moment, your black eyes widening as you saw Logan in the doorway, his expression frantic as he looked you over, from the tip of your blade to the claws of your wings. 

Solaris looked between you, a roar of betrayed agony tearing from his lips as he lunged forward, his own blade of light swinging in a high arc above his head to split your skull. You met him blow for blow, parry for parry, fighting to ignore Logan’s presence in the door. With a stray gesture, you raised a solid wall of shadow before him, an immovable, impenetrable barrier between him and your brother. 

Logan stepped back as a solid wall of darkness rose from the ground, pressing his hand against it to test its durability. What the hell did you think you were doing? Why were you stopping him? He pushed against it, finding finding equal resistance. Pushing again, he was met with his own strength coming back at him. His breath caught in his throat. Through the shifting shadow, he could see your silhouette standing against Solaris, the two of you having separated for a moment before trading blows once again. Logan sent his fist colliding into the wall, feeling the crack of bone before his hand quickly healed and he tried again. 

With half your concentration focused on keeping up the barrier protecting the man you loved, you received the point of Solaris’ blade through your abdomen, your gut twisting with pain as you strained a gasp, hearing Logan’s roar of despair fueled rage from behind the now flickering wall. Solaris pulled his blade back, his eyes nothing but pits of blinding light, the opposite of your own. 

“You can’t save them. You will burn.” He spat, taking a step back as you fell to a knee, pain consuming your system as you tried in vain to cover the wound with your hand, crimson blood flowing through your fingers like sand. 

But he was wrong. He was so wrong. Golden light started to flare from the centre of his chest, erasing every shadow from the room, and bleaching the surfaces of darkness. All shadows bar one. 

All shadows but your own. 

Charles’ words echoed through your head. ‘She cannot disappear into her own shadow or she will be lost.’ ‘That’s why we called you back. We’ve been lucky so far.’

Closing your eyes, you let a stray tear slip down your cheek, and Logan’s heart stilled in his chest. 

“No… No, no NO!” His voice ripped through his throat, claws slashing at the wall of darkness you managed to maintain. “Don’t– Don’t do THIS PLEASE! DON’T… don’t do this.” His words diminished as you turned to look through the barrier, a small smile of acceptance pulling at the corners of your lips, blood staining your teeth. 

You could save them. You could save them all. 

And all it would cost was your life. 

“Til one of us keels over…” you offered him one last promise before you surged forward to where Solaris burned bright, and he barely had time to scream your name as your own shadow flared up around you as you leapt into the blaze, your body disintegrating into shadow.

Logan watched as darkness consumed the glow, a visceral battle between shadow and light, your mutation finally releasing itself around your brother, dragging him into the void with you. The wall fell away, fading back into nothing as he lost you to the very thing you were training against. 

A prison of your own making hummed where you’d leapt forward, a sphere of glassy void, both you and your brother locked away safely where he couldn’t hurt anyone…

And he could never see you again. 

An ever-changing cell of light and dark. 

He lunged forward, vocal cords ripping in his throat as he screamed your name again and again, punching against the surface until his knuckles bled and blood splattered across the floor. Breath singed his lungs as he sobbed. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was going to spend the rest of his life with you. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. 

So why was the rest of your life taken from you? Why did he have to spend the rest of his life alone? Why was he always fucking alone? He only just got you back.

And you were gone again. This time, for good. 

You saved him. You saved him from so many sleepless nights. So many times he’d wake up to find comfort in your slow breathing next to him, placing the side of his head against your chest, feeling your breaths, listening to your heartbeat. You saved him. But the price of doing so was losing you.

Strength left his body as he crumbled to his knees. This had been your choice. You’d sealed yourself away in a cell of flickering light and swirling shadow, imprisoning Solaris along with you for the rest of time. You’d disintegrated into your own silhouette like Charles had constantly warned you against. And you’d done it to save the people that you love. 

Logan placed his hand against the buzzing wall of light and dark, pressing his forehead against the incarnation of your mutation, hoping against hope that somehow, somewhere, you were still in there. Your whispered name fell from his lips, tears falling ceaselessly to darken the floor in droplets, his head bowed low. The light from within flared and faded rhythmically, glowing inside the empty black of shadow. 

Much like the light of a firefly. 

“Please…” he whispered. “I love you. I love you.” His chest was wracked with silent sobs.

“Logan!” Ororo’s voice echoed through the chamber as she slid to a stop in the doorway, a gasp flying from her lips. “What…?” She could barely comprehend what she was seeing. “Where is she?” She asked quietly, her footsteps too loud in the grieving silence of the room. He couldn’t find his voice through the choking heartbreak in his throat. 

“Logan…?” Morgana stepped carefully through the doorway, a badly injured Kitty supported by her shoulder, blood leaking from a wound on her head. The redhead fell silent as she realised what had happened. “She did it…” she whispered, melancholy lacing her tone. “She did it.”

A new wave of grief suffocated his chest as her words struck his heart. You had. You’d done it. But in doing so, you’d sacrificed everything. 

“No…” Kitty whimpered, struggling to free herself from Morgana’s hold to get to you. “That’s not her… it’s not her!” She cried, staggering forward only to fall to the ground a few steps later, a yelp of grief-stricken pain piercing the air. Logan looked back numbly, his eyes meeting hers as she looked at him pleadingly. “Tell me… tell me it’s not her…” she begged, her voice thick with emotion. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell her it wasn’t you. And the longer his silence lingered, the more hope drained from her eyes and she sobbed into her arm.

It was all he could do to go to her and drag her into his arms, listening to his own heartbreak shatter in every single one of her cries. He screwed his eyes shut, letting her shudder in his arms. 

“I’m sorry…” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

He knew there was nothing he could have done. You’d sealed him out for a reason. You’d shut him away because you knew this was what you’d have to do. And you knew he would have stopped you. He would let the world burn for you, but you wouldn’t allow it. Because living with himself after would have been impossible.

You saved him from that. You’d saved him from himself. 

“She's gone…?” Scott asked softly, joining the grieving group and reading the room. Morgana nodded in confirmation, and his jaw tightened. It was then Logan knew this wasn’t what he wanted. He spoke the truth when he’d said all those months ago he didn’t want you gone. He didn’t want you neutralised. 

“She saved our lives…” Ororo offered quietly, as if fearful her voice would break if she spoke any louder. Logan turned back to the sphere of shadow and the light pulsing within.

You’d saved so many people in your life. A sharp contrast to how many you’d hurt. But he knew you’d be happy with this. You were okay with this. Your last act was one of saving, not hurting. So he would live for you. He would live in a way you’d be proud of. Placing his hand back against the surface of your mutation, he let the promise seep through his palms as if somehow you could hear his intentions. 

“See you soon, Firefly.”

[wc-confessions]

rainflower is a good character because she abuses that child really well and we dont get a short story from her rationalizing her abuse. the erins said "we need to abuse this child" so they made a child abuser. point a to point b. so simple. it's fine.

the flaw with hook crook hand, mapleshade 2 the electric boogaloo, is that everyone in riverclan experiences a mass hysteria event and also agrees to abuse this child for the sole reason of "rainflower said so". there isn't a line in the books about queens having total authority over their childs autonomy or how names are so special you have to stick to them No Matter What Even If It's Psychologically Damaging (though it's Implied)

if rainflower was the leader or deputy this would be believable but shes just rainflower. shellfur could have stepped up and said "i object to child abuse actually" but instead he slapped his hand over his knee and said "darn! guess i have no choice!" he didnt even offer to sleep with his son through his injury. does his job prohibit him from being a dad? lots of really important work going on in sleeping in the warrior den i fucking guess. dont get me started on hailstar. what is this.

this just results in the side characters in the book feel really hollow and bad for me. oak gets a pass because he was just a kid, but the adults bending to rainflowers whims based on nothing has been bothering me since someone pointed it out. the more i think about it the more i mald over the fact that she should have had a position of power in the clan. rainstar, lead her clan out of a flood, gave birth in a tree, surely she knows best. we should listen to this guy.

also rainflower continues to have a sway over her sons lives well after the crookedkit incident. hailstar didnt even cut her off from making life changing decisions because she managed to get shellfur to mentor oakpaw. the social taboo of parents mentoring kittens broken by known child abuser rainflower. what the fuck did she do to have all this pull in the clan? did she kill a dog?? is hailstar into her?? that child abusing charisma she is a true gem.

its still the best super edition though

.

[mydearthisbe]

Ayesha Liveblogs Derry Girls S1-S3

“Macaulay Culkin might be divorcing his parents.” “Do you hear this? This’ll be someone she met at that stupid summer scheme you insisted we send her on.” I like that this is both the context setting that it’s in the 90s and Macaulay Culkin being an incredibly Irish name. It has layers

“Why don’t you just leave my Mary alone?” “Because we’ve been married for 17 years, Joe. We have two children!” HHJHGKJGJH I love this exchange

“I’m not being an individual on my own.” This is a perfect summary of what it’s like to be in high school

“But you’d specifically like me to go. Just so we’re clear.” Erin being unable to be normal around David is also relatable teen antics

Jdjdjdjdk not James being sent to the girls’ school because the boys’ school would beat him for being English

The first year on the bus is a really good representation of the current vibes of the school system. It’s rough out here

We’ve only had Michelle for five minutes, but she’s already instigated two confrontations:

“Speaking of pupils who needs to watch their back, let me introduce: James Maguire.” JSJSJS what a way to introduce a student

Honestly fair of Mandy’s little sister for not accepting the apology

“Erin, what in God's name..?” “Did you kill that wee nun, girls?” "Of course we didn't." "Then why were you pissing on her dead body and making sandwiches?" “Say nothing til we've seen a lawyer.” They’ve covered the full spectrum of advice

If I were Erin, with friends who are instigating conflict (Michelle), losing it under the slighest pressure (Clare), and reading my diary out loud over school (Orla), I, too, would crash out

Orla with her lighter during the school concert LMAO

“Sadly, I am unable to come on this one, as I despise the French.” So real, Sister Michael

“Looks like I'm gonna need someone to hang out with.” “It would be an honour.” 50-50 on if Charlene is actually unpleasant or if Erin is projecting

“Just dip into your trust fund, I do it all the time.” Crazy thing to expect your peers to have

[Orla, to her mum, Sarah] “I don't have [a trust fund].” [Orla's mum to Mary, her sister] “I take it that means I don't have one.” Mary's really carrying this family's common sense

“I just assumed they were all dead cat posters.” “Missing cat posters.” “If you’re an optimist.” There's so much rapid fire silliness it is almost hard to catch it all

Well, I do think it's on James for denouncing chips and the chippy

Why would anyone hire someone who stole a noticeboard?? Michelle really doesn't think long-term at any juncture

“I just think it might be best if I moved on, friendship-wise.” “You are aware you’re talking to your current friends?” Valid response, Clare

Bold of Fionnula to leave the kids who have already stolen from her in the chip shop to clean it up unsupervised

Arguably, you could say these are natural consequences:

Kdkdkdkd I can see where Erin and Orla get their tendencies to lean into mischief, staging a hostage situation is a big step-up from causing a small house fire

“I'm half torn. This is wrecking my head.” “What? Have you been drinking?” “Yes I have.” I assume we'll talk about Michelle's alcohol issues at some point soon

“I can't tell my rebellions from my risings.” “Whose fault's that? If your lot had stopped invading us for five fucking minutes, there'd be a lot less to wade through, you English prick.” I think James might've walked into that one

“You can’t waste Esther’s time like that.” The fact they know are on first name basis with Childline rep

All of the others having a religious experience while Erin is just mourning her dog and knowing the tears of the Virgin Mary are piss. Also. There's a lot of piss related plot lines in these first few eps

Unfortunately, Handsome Priest Peter bears the burden of having to measure up to Hot Priest from Fleabag and Adam Brody as a Rabbi, and I just don't think he can compete with that line up:

“And you know who else doesn't think you're a dick, James? Our Lord.” Very youth pastor of Peter LOL

“Proof at last, Peter. Proof at last.” I think as long as Peter's looking for confirmation God exists, he's gonna have a tough time as a priest

It is actually very sweet and sad that James has finally found someone who tolerates him and it's Peter, Priest Who Wants to Dig Up Dead Dogs

“He has... risen. It's truly a miracle.” Like mother, like daughter, Mary is also easily caught in a lie

Deciding to traumatize your daughter by thinking her dog is dead rather than admit you've given it away is like, some premeditated evil LMAO

“[Remaining in the priesthood] became more challenging when I met this amazing girl. There was just this...” “Connection?” “Exactly. You know, made me question everything, doubt everything. Who knows, if God hadn't sent me this sign, I might've even left the priesthood to be with her.” Oh this is very Fleabag. Poor Peter, Piss Puppy Priest

“She has been well and truly hoist by her own petard.” You know, say what you will about Erin's academic skills, she's got a very poetic vocabulary

Between the dead nun and the notice board and fire and the church hoax, it seems like the Derry Girls are known for nothing but terrorizing the town:

“Please don't worry yourselves too much about the whole civil war, sectarian conflict, carry on.” It is very interesting to reflect on the fact there were actually Chernobyl kids sent to Ireland at this time. Wonder if they got a similar speech

“But you're not two different religions here, you're different flavours of the same religion, no?” Katya raises a true but sensitive point

I mean good for James if he enjoys Katya for getting with a girl with no effort on his part

“Two buns, he says you ordered.” “I often do.” “An apple turnover and cream horn.” Mary said: I have not forgotten your church wink, Dad, never underestimate an eldest daughter's ability to investigate

“Winking? At your age? Christ, I feel sick.” LMAO the slutshaming of grandpa is making me giggle kghkghg

I'd sympathize with Erin's angst about her letters not being read more if she was less abrasive to Katya

“I'm not comfortable with you talking about my girlfriend like this.” I guess James does like Katya back

“She's also opened my mind about how we need to break down barriers here, to no longer define ourselves as Irish or British, Catholic or Protestant, but simply as human [...]” One interaction with a Ukranian person has Clare aiming to break generational sectarian trauma

Jenny having Artem on a leash. Good god khgkhg

“Have you got a Union Jack splashed across your tits, Clare?” "I'm making a point.” “Is the point, 'I'd like to get beaten up?” Michelle may be an instigator, but she'll also stop her friends from going full stupid

As a side note, the most unrealistic part of all these house parties in the UK and Ireland is how much space there is in these house parties. I've never seen such an open floor plan

“Like, I don't think [condoms]'re legal in Derry.” Erin, like one of my childhood friends when in middle school, is perhaps under the impression that her parents only had sex twice, to conceive both children

“She doesn't love him. She's just using him. She just wants something to do. But she can't do James. He's not a pastime or plaything.” Erin's urgency to prevent James from hooking up does seem like a crush

That Erin and Michelle can't picture Clare having sex (presumably in their minds, with a man) is perhaps foreshadowing

Also I feel as though we are breezing past the Rave Chicken Dance

“How could he bring her here, into our mother's home?” “You mother never lived in this house.” I did wonder about that, thank you for clarifying Gerry

The way that Mary and Sarah go full funeral to meet Maeve:

“I won't let you do it.” Erin is truly so up in James's business

The comedic panning from Sarah and Mary saying Grandpa's flaunting his romance in their faces to show him and Maeve praying over their mum. Poetic cinema

“Whatever you do, don't slag off the Pope. We're outnumbered.” LMAO CLIVE OUTING HIMSELF AS A PROTESTANT BECAUSE OF CLARE'S SHIRT

“We like to buy Jenny present to thank her for nice party.” Erin could've asked literally anyone and would've saved herself a lot of public embarassment

Say what you will, at least Erin's friends who were not directly involved were willing to leave the party with her

“She is racist, patronizing bitch.” “I am a racist, patronizing bitch.” Erin said: I can excuse xenophobia, but I draw the line at a grammatical error

Also: Crazy for Katya to choose Jenny as a host after she kept Clive on a leash

“Good for you, Mr. Joe. She is hot, and you are not dead, yet.” Katya's seal of approval on Maeve, if no one else's

[Holding a picture of his deceased wife] “And they're right. You were perfect.” JOEEEEE

“Did you just call the Order Order 'cracker'?” “I'm considering joining.” “I don't think they accept Catholics, or you know, acknowledge our right to exist.” This is helpful context

“I am psychic, Erin. I did a course. I got a certificate.” This is how it feels to go to white people yoga

I can understand Mary's hesitation to take two more of her daughter's friends, especially when one friend is Michelle, who has every vice known to teen girl

“I mean, if anything, the gay thing sort of cancels out the English thing.” This is the most iconic dialogue from this show

The tarot cards car versus the family car being shaken while they consider sacrificing James really covers the spectrum of coping abilities in this social circle

“I think there's something really sexy about the fact they hate us so much.” Someone get Michelle in therapy

The way the man keeps trying to casually shut himself back in the trunk kills me. Also. How, with 10 people's things, would they have trunk space for a whole adult man? Did he take some luggage out to fit?

“Why doesn't someone just call the police?” “'Cause that's not how things work around here, James.” On brand for a British guy to want to call the police

Also on brand for Grandpa Joe to willingly aid and abet:

“Well, it's a risk we have to take.” “No, it's not, Joe.” Poor Gerry, constant voice of reason

I mean in fairness, if they do leave him at the diner, he could climb in someone's else's trunk and be on his merry way

“The physical thing isn't really working for me yet. I'm not saying you won't grow on me. You're not a bad looking lad. But the ginger element... well, I've sort of got a borderline phobia.” “I'm not ginger.” “There's a tinge, Emmett. And while I can't say it won't be a struggle, I'm willing to try.” Imagine a teenage girl in whose car you've stowed away starts explaining that she'll lower her attractiveness standards for you, a member of the IRA

“Have you killed anyone, son?” “No. Well, at least not directly.” Emmett said: Mama raised a resistor, not a liar

Emmett could sense things going south and cut his losses LOL

“Look, I know Louise meant a lot to you all.” “She's not dead, Erin.” “Well, not yet. Hopefully she won't, you know, die, but if she does, the show must go on.” I can see why Erin is not very popular at school

“But I'm bored now, so looks like I probably will [let this happen].” Sister Michael charms me, she's so funny

Joe hates his son-in-law more than he loves his daughter (not vouching for him to get the photos of her birthday)

I guess the Derry Girls do belatedly get their own individuality in their uniforms due to the pinkwashing

“I don't really believe in lesbians." Toss up if Orla knows what a lesbian is

“This is about, you know, gay rights.” Very passionate, Erin

“But that's censorship.” “Well done. You are correct. You're being censored, now go.” Me when I'm being a hater about what other people post online LMAO

Good on Sarah for being the one to come through for photos

“It's wall-to-wall lesbians out there.” I wish!!!

“Brigitte Gallagher, who works in the post office [is a lesbian].” “I believe so.” “Is she not a vegetarian, Da?” “Sorry, you're right. Vegetarian, Brigitte is.” There's a joke to be made but it's low-hanging fruit (no pun intended) so instead I'll say: Me too (gay* and vegetarian)

*[Nick Nelson voice] I'm bi, actually

“I just don't understand what they eat.” PU—

James and Clare are the two halves of me before coming out:

“You know what, Jenny? I don't think I did [hear you].” Sister Michael said: I'm no longer bored

“Everything makes you nervous, Clare. You're a walking cack attack.” "I can't help that, it's the way god made me.” Also me too, Clare

“Erin, it's me. I'm the wee lesbian.” Good for Clare ❤️

“You made me realize it's all okay.” "Don't blame me.” Erin said: Have you heard of performative activism? I am a big fan

“Well, I'm sorry, Clare, but I'm just not interested in you, not like that.” "'Not interested in you like that.' Look at the state of you.” Iconic and appropriate response from Clare

“You know what else is staggering? Your gayness.” ERIN PLEASE

McCool is a very fun last name and on brand for Orla

“She might be a dick. But she's my dick.” "Actually, she's our dick.” Erin and Clare have sorted out their differences

“The device was denotated at 3pm this afternoon. The RUC say no warning was given.” NOW DERRY GIRLS, WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME CRY

S2

I appreciate that we're opening with the Friends across the Barricade, that's nice

“Or can you not get Protestant lesbians?” “No, I think you can get them all right, it's just—” Imagine if it was only Catholics

“You're a very talented people.” I guess Lesbian is to 90s Derry as Person of Colour is to 2000s Canada LMAO

“No funny business with these Protestant lads, is that clear? I don't want anybody landing back here pregnant.” That's a fair concern sending your kids to an overnight camp

“I don't see why we have to buy them a present. I mean, they already have all the land, all the jobs, and all the fucking rights.” Michelle's out-of-pocket commentary finally has a point

“But that's not fair, he's the only good-looking one.” “The rest of us are right here.” Erin speaks as if no one can hear her always

James trying to make a guy friend and being as weird as possible about it

“Do you mean when you shacked up with a slutty hairdresser, but then she dumped you?” HAHAHA welcome back Piss Priest Peter

“What about the fact we all feel, and love, and hope, and... Write this down. We all cry. We all laugh. We all dream.” I actually think Peter is a good facilitator, this is just how it is to lead a group conversation for teens sometimes

“I really like this one, have you seen the video—” “Let's cup the crap Dee.” “Sorry?” “You know why I'm here. But before we begin—” “Begin what?” “I won't have as many moves as you.” Dee really tried to start a normal conversation and Erin wouldn't let him

“I love beer, and football, and poker, and you know, tits.” James also won't let Jon have a normal conversation hahaha

Somehow Michelle is the only one of them who can successfully interact with a man

“You will go far in life, Jenny. But you will not be well-liked.” LMAO even Sister Michael is advising Jenny against snitching

You could not PAY me to take a high school absailing lmao

“Look at his eyes, he's a madman, a Fenian-hating madman. Don't let let the Jaffa bastard hurt me, please.” Perhaps it's on Peter for sending the most anxious student first

Also, jkghkjghkgj @ them introducing a deaf character just to make their main plot accidental hate speech through mishearing

“Because all Protestants are the same, aren't they, girls?” “Yes.” “No.” “And this guy's really creepy, and a bit sort of, sexist. And she carries a knife and makes people bury their own excrement.” I think this is a fair vent from these guys

I was just thinking that the parents were the similarity, but then Erin said it too!

Ms. De Brun has a fun entrance in her motorcycle gear

“This isn't bold, Erin. It's someone failing to bold.” That's not a real critique, Ms. De Brun, substantiate your staement

I actually do feel bad for Mary and Gerry for not being able to go on a date night by themselves

“She ripped up your poems?” “She said we weren't writing from the soul.” “Well, why in under God weren't you writing from the soul?” It was foolish of me to assume Mary might take the kids' side

“God, but I love that accent, James!” It does make me feel better when people actually say nice things to James. He's a bit of a dick, but he is constantly catching strays

Please, the fact they're all wearing De Brun's winged eyeliner jhkhk

“I'd die for her as well, but I'm also conscious of the fact we've only known her, like, two days.” “And?” “Well, isn't it a bit weird she's invited her house at night?” YES, CLARE, YES IT IS! WHY IS YOUR TEACHER BRINGING STUDENTS HOME AT NIGHT

WHY IS SHE GIVING HER STUDENTS ALCOHOL??? CRAZY

“t's my favourite quote. What's yours?” “Be careful, child, of the doll made of glass, for if you hold her too tightly, she will break and you will bleed.” “I don't think I'm familiar with that one. Who's it by?” “Me. It's by me.” I love that Erin is confident to say her favourite quote is herself

“Well, that's a bit inappropriate.” “Your ma's a bit inappropriate.” Drunk Clare is so silly, it's endearing

“We'll give him back on the condition that Ms. De Brun is rightfully reinstated.” What about your school makes you think they'll respond well to blackmail, Erin?

“We need a copy of today's newspaper.” “Why?” “It's just the done thing, kidnapping wise.” Not James the kidnapping afficianado

Well, breaking the statue seems like the natural progression

Do you think these mothers are ever like, maybe our kids shouldn't hang out anymore?

“It was an accident, Mammy.” “So you accidentally wrote a ransom note, did you?" You see, I think that's the first thing they should've tossed

“She shouldn't have been sacked.” “She wasn't.” SHE SHOULD'VE BEEN, SHE GOT MINORS DRUNK AT HER HOUSE

I'm glad that Mary finally found the ending of the Usual Suspects

“I sort of hope [peace] works out for all of us, Sarah.” Oh, Mary!!

“Sure, why don't you just sell the wains into white slavery and be done with it?” Insane thing to say, Grandpa Joe

“I think we have a Code Red on our hands.” Now why would Clare claim there's an abandoned suitcase during The Troubles. They could just say the suitcase is snacks and soda, and the Belfast is to see friends. They're so bad at lying khgjhgkj

LMAO why could they not have just gotten back on the bus

“I'm a bit scared of [travellers], is that racist?” “Yes.” “Very much so.” Erin and Clare are right about that one

“We're travellers, so obviously, violent.” Alright, Hat Guy, it's totally reasonable for a group of young women to be concerned that adult men are chasing them without saying anything about a lost wallet (and even if they had said, still reasonable!! Street harrassment is a safety concern)

That said, bold of the girls to jump into a stranger's van

OH MY GOD THEY LEFT JAMES HGKJHGKJ

“James has the tickets.” Well, that solves that questions

Jonjo's genuine regret at losing James because he doesn't like Gary Barlow's songwriting LMAO

Gerry's joy over the girls making it to the concert while not telling the other parents. He's such a good dad:

Sarah wearing a full white gown to a wedding does feel on brand for her

“Isn't a crying shame neither of you got her looks?” Bridie proving why even their mum Marie couldn't stand her sister. Every family has one

“Mammy, they don't come separately.” “Aye, we're pack animals, Mary.” This is very sweet but as someone whose friends have planned so many weddings lately, I feel like they'd be booted out immediately

They really do love a group dance at a party moment. So far there's been one per season

“Look, Michelle, drugs are illegal, drugs are addictive, but perhaps most importantly, in this country, you can lose your kneecaps if you're caught doing them.” Clare truly is under duress at all times

“Nothing but a pair of hallions.” “Come on now, Bridie, that's enough of that.” Gerry defends his wife, as he should

“I really think you were a disappointment to [your dead mother], you know.” I feel that this tirade is going to get Bridie punched in the mouth

“Ach, drop dead, you spiteful old hag.” [Bridie dies] That's a much funnier way to end this confrontation, 10/10, no notes:

“I didn't kill her.” “You know what I mean. Not kill. Hex.” “I didn't hex her either, Da.” HAHAHAH Poor Mary

“I looked into it, and Mammy's death, it doesn't meet the official requirements [of a curse], so you're completely in the clear on that front, Mary.” Let it not be said that Cousin Eammon is not an understanding man

“They're drug scones.” Not Michelle drugging people at the wake

“Is this my wake? Am I in hell?” Oh, Sister Michael kjhgkjghg

“I think you're doing a fine job. Keep up the good work.” Joe's compliment to Gerry's is the biggest hint that anyone's high

“She's wearing Mammy's earrings.” I thought one of the kids might disturb the body, but I guess it's going to be Mary and Sarah

If they had just done the scone flush a bit at a time, I think it'd have been successful. Alternatively, just toss them in the bushes

After this family looting his mother's corpse and flooding the house with drug scones, I think Cousin Eammon is fair to be done with them

“How's your scoots now, Erin, love?” “Aye, they're clearing up.” At least they weren't caught for the scones

“I bagged us up there a couple [scones].” SPOKE TOO SOON

“I'd like to introduce Mae Chung.” I think things are about to get racist, they can't even handle Protestants

“We're gonna have [singing] a '50s prom.” Oh, that's fun I guess??

“Maybe we don't need a Chinese person. We've already got a lesbian.” What a thing to say

“I've always wanted a gay friend. I mean, ideally a fella.” I don't think Mae is long for this friend group, I've never seen her floating around in Derry Girls posts

[Tearfully] “It was mutual. It was definitely a mutual thing.” Awww John Paul

“Erin's just sacked Clare as her prom date so she coild take a fella she fancies.” “Bad craic, Erin. Very bad craic.” Even Mae knows that this isn't cool

I hope that Mae and Clare end up going out after being prom dates

“I'm sorry James, but Chinese people are just better than English people.” I'll allow it, Orla

“I'm going out with the biggest ride in Derry, but I'm jealous of your new friend.” There's truth in Erin's sarcastic comments

Also I haven't said, but I love the rainbow pins on Clare's lapel

“You asked Granda to the prom?” “Well, everyone kept saying, you have to ask a fella you really like, and he's the fella I like the most.” AWWW ORLA 🥺💗

I think Erin might get stood up in her nice, uncomfy dress

“Nobody crosses me, Clare.” I knew Mae was too good to be true

“You didn't bring both boys to prom, did you Michelle?” She was too in danger of having a successful social interactions

ORLA AND GRANDPA JOE'S DANCE IS SOOOO CUTE

“Ah, Trampy Tara.” “We've just started see each other, actually.” “Oh, no... not that kind of trampy. We just call her that because she's got quite a heavy gait.” HAHA nice save, Clare

“I know Mae from back home.” “From China?” “Donegal.” I appreciate the repeated clarification of Mae being from Donegal

“Did she ever tell you why she had to leave?” Did Mae get kicked out of her last school for bullying jkhgkjg

“Your mum rang me.” JAMESSSSS what a sweetheart, I am rooting for these two

The comfy Easter dress!! Love that for Erin as well

“As of midnight tonight, after 25 years, the IRA have called a ceasefire.” Oh!!!! 💘💘💘💘💘

“We were trying to save you.” No good deed goes unpunished

The assembly songs are a very realistic part of this show

“That totally just wrecked my buzz.” Are we never going to talk about Michelle's substance abuse issues?

“Because tomorrow, the President of the United States of America is coming here, to Derry. You're a little young to perhaps understand the enormity of this. A few short months ago, this would've been unimaginable, but here we are... and I for one, can barely believe it. I mean people in this place stop killing each other for five minutes, and whole world loses the absolute run of itself.” Sister Michael's speech was starting to sound a little optimistic hahaha, I should've expected the turn

Orla and James wearing Clare's rainbow pins!! That's such a cute costuming detail

It is endearing that the girls believe Chelsea Clinton is their friend

“Sometimes in order to the right thing, you have to do the wrong thing.” Clare said: I am not above truancy for historic events

“My aunt Cathy.” “Hello mum.” Lol @ James and Michelle letting the girls yell kidnap before correcting them

“I've no time for Cathy Maguire. The woman abandoned her own wain, Sarah.” That's also how I feel about James's mum, Mary

I do support Joe's logic in not wanting Colm to double up on president meetings when he hasn't met one

“Sometimes I'll just say something to get me from one sentence to the other, Joe.” Relatable, Colm

You know, telling your parents the truth about things you're doing (skipping school) and them thinking it's a joke is a solid strategy. It worked when I got my first tattoo

“It was always, 'Oh Cathy, why did you stay out all night?' Or, 'Who was that man you were having dinner with, Cathy?” Cathy's a piece of work kjhgkjhgkjg

James looks at his mother with such adoration, poor boy

It's on Grandpa Joe for not simply going where the President was scheduled to appear

Now Michelle and Erin also have the rainbow pins!! I love that

“I'm leaving. I'm going back to London with mum.” Oh, James!! They're so sad, the girls really do love their wee English fella

“She'll let you down again, you do realize that.” Michelle is trying her best to look out for James

“It's not like I belong here, I never did.” “That's not true. You're a Derry girl now, James.” AWWWW MICHELLE

“But you're one of us.” “I have to do this." “But I don't want you to.” This is the most sincere Michelle's ever been

Also. I imagine that shortly James is going to be staying in Derry

HAHAHAHAH everybody but Jenny and Aisling skipping anyway

“For God's sake, Jenny. You need to learn when to push back.” Hahaha Sister Michael said: I have a reputation to maintain, but I'm not a complete tyrant

“I'm a Derry girl.” YEAH YOU ARE, JAMES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The way they left seeing Bill Clinton speak to go see James!!

Orla jumping into James's arms and Michelle wrapping him the flag. I love themmmm

These are my Derry Girls!!! The overlapping historical events and friend themes get me every time

S3

I like Erin's new haircut, it suits her well! Shame about James's

“His Ma only sends him really expensive shit, you know. To make up for the fact she doesn't love him.” A harsh but accurate look at James's life

Clare's secondhand stress for her friends' exam results LOL

“Is that not a breach of his human rights?” “No, because he's a cat." I love Mary and Sarah's interactions

“It is a library, Dennis. It's a video library.” Oh, the 90s

“Why are you still talking to me?” Sister Michael said: I'm not available for conversation during the summer

“I was a scholar when I met you, Erin, a scholar!” “You were three!” They are such silly and accurate childhood friends

Every conflict in Derry Girls is premised upon people being unreasonable. Who would break into a school rather than wait like, 8 hours for their GSCE results

Not James filming video evidence for their school crimes

“We can't go around killing people's pets, Da. There'll be riot.” “We haven't had one of them in a while.” Sarah remarks on every serious event like it's the weather

I do kinda think that Seamus is being framed for the pet attacks

“We're gonna have to get rid of the body.” I'd say just put it in the road, but no one here is that reasonable

“Thanks for giving us a hand girls. Honestly, can't thank you enough.” I suspect these girls are helping people rob their school

“I'm slightly worried we might have accidentally helped burgle the school.” As you should be, Clare

I guess this is the police interrogation scene I've seen around

I'm sure Joe and Gerry burying a body (if a little bunny rabbit) in the night will not backfire at all. Could they not have just buried it in their own yard?

PLEASE, THEY GOT LIAM NEESON FOR THIS? HAHAHAHA

“We can't get ahold of the headmister, one... Sister George Michael.” Oh my god

“We'd like to speak to a solicitor please.” “All in good time." ACAB

Erin's legitimate criticism of the police institution's prejudice against Catholics in Northern Ireland. She got him there!

“[Orla's] ma is just an extension of my ma.” Mary does seem to be in charge of Sarah's household as well LOL

“Das are in the pocket of mas.” “It's true. Das are just Ma enablers.” Hahahaha when you're right, you're right

They chose the exact right adult, shout-out Uncle Colm

Hahahaha, them thinking Colm's droning got them out when it's the actual evidence that got them released

Both halves of the family hiding their crimes for evening

“Orla just does really well at exams, despite the fact she obviously, you know, is subnormal.” Everyone has their strengths khgjkgh

It's been two solid seasons and they haven't had a single plot involving the baby. I wonder if she'll finally be acknowledged in this ep where her babbling is the open

Piss Priest Peter's ponytail is not a great look. Unlike Erin his hair has not improved in the interim between seasons

“Christ, but you're a fine looking specimen.” They've decided Gabriel the Hot Plumber will replace Peter as eye candy. If I had to tell you the truth, I don't know that I've found a single person in this show attractive (to me personally)

[Gabriel, about Wuthering Heights] “It's, like, my favourite novel. It's so romantic.” I think this is a warning sign

“Well, me and the wife, uh well, we separated recently.” [Sarah, upbeat] “God, that's terrible, so it is." Until this episode with Gabriel it hasn't occured to me to wonder where Orla's dad is

[Kindergarten teacher voice] “And what age are you?” Gabriel's had the only appropriate reaction to being hit on by a teenager HAHA

“The plumber was trying to get off with Erin's ma.” Well, if there was ever a reason to break a 24-hour vow of silence

I assume that Mary and Hot Plumber Gabriel are together for a book club about Wuthering Heights

“Downstage is up, upstage is down.” “But that doesn't make any sense.” “It's theatre, it's not supposed to make sense.” As a former theatre kid, so true bestie

“Who even are you, Mammy? And shimmy.” Mulitasking is an art

“Our girls are performing.” “And?" “Well, we'd like to see them.” Let it not be said that the Quinns/McCools don't show up for their kids

This episode has highlighted for me how much hair loss Gerry has, but I assume that's partly due to stress, which, fair

They actually do all look cute in their Spice Girls costumes:

Also the way the girls can never afford anything, but somehow all had the funds for these Spice Girls outfits hahahah

“How are they good?” Jenny said: The animosity goes both ways

Their performance was going too well, Erin had to run off

[Erin, shouting] “Admit it, Gabriel, you're just a pervert with a jazzy-jumpered Ma fetish!” [Gabriel, whispering] “I'd rather not admit that, if you don't mind.” Poor Gabriel's tween daughter, witnessing this confrontation

“He wants to do a degree. He convinced me to come along and check it out.” This sounds like a lovely friendship between Gabriel and Mary, shame the family has made it so hard

“There's no point in telling anybody about all this, because it's not actually going to happen. It's not real.” “Well, let's make it real, if that's what you want.” Gerry is a good husband

“There's nothing you can't do, love.” I love Gerry and Mary

Erin being mad at her mum for her no longer being the first in the family to go to university ghgkjhgk. Good grief

“Are you saying you think the IRA won't decommission because they've misplaced their balaclavas?” Sarah's mind is certainly something

Say what you will about Orla's boots, at least she can run in them

HAHAHAH well if you have to get left somewhere, I guess your home station is best

“I can't believe I've run into you. I'm not back a wet week.” I bet $50 none of them know who this woman is

Update from 1 minute later: Someone owes me $50

“I caught dementia.” “Dementia?” “Riddled with it, so I am.” “Ach, that's awful.” “I can't remember a bloody thing.” Joe said: Being old has to have its benefits

“Unless I forgot the fact that I packed a shit-ton of cash and a gun.” I feel as though this social group has an unusually high rate of interacting with criminals

My money's on the Unknown Blond Woman having had an affair with someone in their neighbourhood

I think whoever would sell a kitkat to Orla, who is Unusual in the Mind, for 500 pounds, is probably a terrible person

“No, we can't desert our family because we got ourselves into a slightly embarassing situation.” HAHAHAHA what a mood

“The point, you took advantage of her, so just give us back the money or...” What does this train confectioner gain from scheming money off of children

Hats off to them for writing the silliest train confrontation possible:

HAHAHAHHA I love James wearing Orla's shoes to get tall enough to reach the racks

“I left this fella to mind my bag, you must've thought I wasn't coming back.” Aideen the Forgotten Murdering Neighbour with the gun and money bag omg

“You owe me a packet of crisps.” This whole ep was them trying to solve problems of Orla's making

Awwww James minding the baby while they do the roller coaster

“We wrote that song, Sister. Jenny stole it.” Jenny has so much going for her, she's rich, she's in charge of everything at school, why would she plagiarize?

“Well, if there's anything we can do.” “The hospice want to release the body, but the house is a tip.” Sister Michael said: Don't make an offer you don't want to act on it

“I'd do it myself, but I don't want to.” Sister Michael gets me every time

Shocking of Sister Michael to trust them with the school van with their extremely checkered history at this school

“Lesbian farming is actually huge in the Republic.” I'd like to believe that's true

“She's my cousin.” “Oh, right. Not properly English then.” “I can't win.” James does get it from both sides

“Why can't everyone just speak English?” “Well, your crowd had at forcing the entire world to, but we didn't really enjoy it much, James. Imperalist prick!” Point to Michelle

The universe punished him for this thought by gently hitting James with a car

James considering his car bump a near death experience haha

Clare being together enough to get dinner organized shows she does have some crisis coping skills

“Robert didn't fight it. He walked towards the light.” Not James victim-blaming the principal's dead aunt's dead husband for not fighting off death

“I'm trying to communicate with the dead mother.” Being a psychic is tough in this economy

All five of them crammed in the bed like the grandparents from Willy Wonka hkjshkshs

“We will perish here. We will perish in this place.” Clare is me whenever I have a bad day

“Something changed when I was standing at the end of that tunnel." Hee hee, is James going to kiss Erin?

“I like you Erin. I think I've liked you for a long time, and I don't expect you to say anything, I just... I just want you to know that I think you're beautiful.” Awwww James!!!

I knew it!! I've known it since Jenny's party!! Good for them:

Hahahahah I guess I should've expected they'd be interrupted

“If you get together, you'll break up. And where does that leave me Erin? You might be my best friend, but he's my cousin, and dickhead or not, I'll have to stick with him. Don't put me in that position.” That's a very fair concern from Michelle

Did they go to the wrong house?? That's what I'm guessing

Update from 2 minute laters: “My aunt's name is Maura. She never married. And this isn't her house.” Thought so!

“Life is dealt them a very cruel hand, and they're living with a very serious condition. Truth is, Declan, they're from Derry.” “Well, that's punishment enough, I suppose.” Hahahaha Declan PLEASE

“I'm sorry.” “It's okay. I can wait.” I love James and Erin ❤️

Joe getting a sign from Marie that she's there with the razor in the red box like the psychic said!! So sweet

“Janette Joyce formerly O'Shea would've knocked about with us.” “Until she bagged her medical student boyfriend.” It's a generational beef I see

I do appreciate Ciaran the Photo Guy's repeat appearances

Geraldine (Clare's mum)'s outfit look halfway between salwar kameez and pajamas

“Aye because America's so safe.” “No, no it's not. Canada, on the other hand, is.” Realistic irritation from a Canadian being called American hahahah

“He was there, the night of the school leavers' disco.” “So?” “So, he knows.” What'd they do at the disco!!!

I love the flashback of Mary and Sarah, great styling and casting:

“His family are visiting from America and they're all shitting themselves about him maybe getting, I don't know, killed or something.” Hahaha you can really see in Young Deidre where Michelle gets it

“You're doing it, Geraldine. We all are.” A family of instigators haha

“A man that doesn't talk. She's living the dream girls.” You right, Deidre hahaha

“He's a gay." “Oh right, I am a raging homosexual, that is correct." Deidre's Cousin Rob is fun

“Our daughter's a gay!” “How is she finding it?” “All right, I think. I mean, she's 17, so she's just starting out. She's not as established as someone like yourself.” “Aye, she's not fully qualified yet, so to speak.” At what age do they send you your gay qualifications?

“I think it's time to pull some skeletons out of the closet.” Mary said: No one laughs at me, Janette Joyce formerly O'Shea!!

Omg not Rob kissing the Silent Surgeon to provoke him to speak

“Don't do this, Mary. You have as much to lose as I do.” What on Earth did they do??

HAHAHAH they did stick and poke tattoos with a protractor

“Have you had a tattoo since 1977 and I've never seen it?” “There's lots you haven't seen, Gerry.” “We're very good at hiding them, Gerry. We're out a fortune in concealer.” Hahah the retroactive explanation

“If the truth came out, our lives would be over.” “Well that's not true, is it love?" So true, Clare's Dad

“I told Richard you definitely were invited.” “Yeah, uh so, Richard's great the surgery, not so good at the passing on of the messages." Aw it was a misunderstanding

Well, if Ciaran didn't actually say the words, 'Marry me,' it's on him for not clarifying. Also: I'd say it's crazy to plan an engagement party without consulting your fiancee, but I imagine he did tell Sarah, she just wasn't listening

“Just because I'm gay, doesn't mean I see every other gay woman as a potential suitor.” In fairness, I was very invested in every queer woman in my school, so sometimes, it is that way

Why's this weird freak fighting these random teens!!

Well, while ripping up the tickets was stupid, so was fighting teens, so I can't blame James entirely for that one

I'm sure Michelle making up this story about being James beaten up will not bite them in the ass at all

The recurring joke about Joe getting everything Jim across the road tickles me

Clare abandoning her VIP experience to have a lesbian experience. She's in her unreasonable era

[Sarah, in a nun's habit] “You're not angry with me Ciaran, are you?” [Ciaran, tearfully] “No, how could I be? A calling's a calling.” Ciaran is understanding, but during a misunderstanding

Oh no, what is Gerry on the phone looking heartbroken for???

“Lying wee shites.” Yeah, it was bound to blow up eventually. But again, why does no one care that an adult man is fighting teens?

“That's a pity [you were kicked out] cause I was sort of planning on kissing you tonight.” GO CLARE AND LAURIE

“Clare, love, your dad...” WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO CLARE!

James's wings enveloping them like they are all actually Clare's angels in the group hug... my heart

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ONE YEAR LATER??? WHAT!!!!

Michelle working at Dennis's shop that once was their hangout ahh

I expect that Erin and James will finally get together in this last ep

Hahahah, what is the Irish dancing flashmob for? I guess they couldn't leave us with insufficient dance routines this season

[Mary, looking at a microwave] “Our lives will never be the same again.” That's also how I feel about the microwave

“You can be Irish, you can be British, or you can be bi.” That's what they told me in my sexuality sorting

“I think I wouldn't mind being bi.” Good for Mary hahaha

If I were Erin and my mother made me hold off celebrating my birthday for three months to share with my cousin, I'd be bitter too

Also: Assuming Nicola had to film smth else this year, and that's why she's suddenly switched schools hahahah

“I'm sorry, is the Good Friday Agreement stealing your thunder?” asked James, to the girl he is in love with

“Your party's never gonna compete with my party.” Jenny may be a jerk, but she's also calling balls and strikes

“You've something that Jenny Joyce doesn't have.” “Integrity.” “What, no.” “Yeah, you don't have integrity, Erin.” Hahaha James and Michelle said: We love you, but don't ask us to lie Erin

“And she's worried about it herself, is she?” “Who?” “God.” Slay Sister Michael for being a Catholic school headmistress who believes God is a woman

Also: BOOOOO at Piss Priest Peter firing Sister Michael

“If I was your Niall, I'd be begging them to let them finish out me stretch.” Have they ever mentioned Michelle's brother before this? Because I had to google this to understand this

“I'm sorry, but I feel very strongly about this,” said Sarah, about letting Cousin Eammon wear Gerry's clothes

“He's my brother.” “He killed someone.” “I know that, Erin.” Oh my god, is this why Michelle has substance abuse issues?

“I think the fact that you shouldn't kill people is pretty black and white.” “Fuck off, Erin. And what would you know, anyway? You're nothing but a spoiled, selfish, sheltered wee brat.” I understand both girls' perspectives here

Clare is really escalating this three-way-call conflict. Just hang up

[Destroying room looking for bus schedule] “Help me now, Daddy.” They truly have Nicola doing everything she can to keep giving her reasons she's not with the others hahaha

Not Michelle making James miss his crush's birthday!!

I appreciate that they have a variety of actors with dwarfism, though it is funny how there is suddenly a lot more representation of a specific group in last two episodes of the third season

“You know, I've never even visited Niall. My ma won't let me.” Oh, Michelle

“Looks like your party's going to be the biggest night of the year after all, girls.” “Clare, you little lesbian legend!” Clare came through when it was important ❤️

“What's with all the tiny brides.” Catholic Culture Shock hahaha

“It doesn't matter what I think [about the referendum]. Sure, I'm an old man. It's what you think that's important.” “People died. Innocent people died, Granda. They were someone's mother, father, daughter, son. Nothing can ever make that okay. And the people who took those lives, they're just gonna walk free. What if we do it, and it was all for nothing? What if we vote yes and it doesn't even work?” Oh, Erin, sweet girl

“You should write that down.” “Well, maybe I will, someday.” AW

The refrain of the Cranberries while they vote for the referendum! Don't make me cry again, Derry Girls. It's a good show!!

“The people of Northern Ireland have spoken.” I LOVE THEM

LMAO THE CHELSEA CLINTON CAMEO AT THE END

[witchygagirlwrites]

They Know

Adam Ruzek x Olinsky Daughter Reader (Nicknamed TT or Tiny Tornado)

Your dad finds out about you and Adam

Good Morning Beautiful you smiled at the text from Adam as your kids came in, going to their seats. Really hope my dad isn’t around you handsome you texted back and laughed when he replied Naw, I keep the font too small for him to see 

The one good thing about you normally being scarce around the precinct was the fact that you and Adam didn’t have to have many interactions in front of your dad or your uncle Hank. You were afraid that if you did someone may very well clock the way you looked at him. You were quickly falling for the goofy detective who your father had taken under his wing when he first plucked him out of the academy for intelligence because in his words “he was like the puppy in the corner of the box gnawing on it”

Adam was also sweet, he stopped by your school regularly under the pretense of being Ms Olinsky’s friend of course and when he came he always dropped coffee off for the front office. He would have your class's attention the moment he walked in. They’d quickly gone from Detective Ruzek to “Hey Mr Adam!” 

He was protective. He always double checked the security guards at the school to make sure they were doing their jobs, he would come by when you would work late just to walk you to your car. He now always made sure to go grocery shopping with you because “can’t have my tornado knocking shelves over trying to get her ingredients” 

There were just so many reasons you were falling for him, it scared you. How could you tell him you were in love with him when your dad didn’t even know you were dating? You loved your mom but your dad was your world. You also knew your dad meant so much to Adam too because Bob Ruzek…well he wasn’t winning dad of the year trophies anytime soon.

You sighed and sent back Go do some work good looking and take care of my dad and he sent back Of course. See you later

Adam looked at his phone and smiled. God he loved you. His tornado. You were everything to him. That little sweet side when you were surrounded by first graders that worshiped “Ms Olinsky”, when you would be covered in flour wearing an old t-shirt and dancing to music while you baked in your kitchen sometimes at two in the morning because you couldn’t sleep.

He’d seen that sassy side of yours too, rather it was the day you met him backing him down over your beloved Ms Frizzle outfit or the day him and Al had to roll to Lexi’s highschool because her chemistry teacher made her cry and that man discovered just why Hank dubbed you with the nickname Tiny Tornado. You had one hell of a temper when you were pushed and it turns out your little sister was one of those buttons.

“What are you smiling at Ruz?” Erin asked and he cut his eyes up at her with a shrug “Nothing” Kim nodded slowly “Nothing huh? You’ve been smiling over nothing a lot here lately” and shared a look with Erin, both women smirking.

He looked between them “Whatever you two are thinking, stop it” Erin raised an eyebrow “He’s got a girlfriend” Kim nodded “Oh definitely”

“Ruzek, you got a girlfriend finally?” Al asked, walking in from the break room and Adam quickly shook his head “No!” which caused everyone to look at him. Jay raised his hands up defensively “Or boyfriend, this is a safeplace man. We don’t judge”

Adam shook his head “I can’t smile? Jesus people. You all need to get lives” and shoved his phone into his pocket.

“Erin thinks I have a girlfriend” Adam told you as the two of you walked along the waterfront. You gasped playfully “You do? Who is she?” and he grinned, pulling you into his arms “This teacher, I don’t think you know her”

You braced your hands on his chest and cut your eyes up at him “Oh really? Tell me about her?” he shook his head “She’s beautiful, amazing with the kids in her class. She’s one hell of a baker, will kill over her little sister. Loves her dad and even her uncle who half the city is afraid of. She can make any bad day turn around just by smiling at me. The best day of my life was when she gave me a chance and I love getting woke up at the two in the morning to find her wearing my t-shirt and dancing around the kitchen”

“Sounds like it’s serious” you teased and he nodded “Oh it is, for me anyways” you smiled “It is for her too” and he leaned down to crash his lips against yours. “I love you Adam” you whispered and his eyes widened “What?” you realized what you said “Oh oh shit”

He kept his grip on you “Baby if you want to backtrack because you didn’t mean it that’s one thing but if you’re backtracking because you think I don’t love you? Don’t you dare” “You love me?” you asked and he nodded “Of course I do TT. I love you baby, I have for a while” you grinned “My dad is gonna murder you” he shrugged “I’ll die a happy man, knowing you love me”

Trudy was at the front desk when she heard two patrolmen go by talking “Yeah I saw Ruzek with Olinsky’s oldest” What? “Hey, you come here” she called him over and his eyes were wide “Yes ma’am?”

“Repeat that” she ordered and he swallowed hard “I um I saw Detective Ruzek with Detective Olinsky’s daughter and they seemed intimate ma’am” she nodded “Ok, get to work and don’t gossip” “Yes ma’am”

Well looks like intelligence was going to have an opening soon.

_________________________

“Come to the precinct. Now” that was all Erin had said. Your dad wasn’t hurt because he’d be at Med so what was wrong?

When you walked in you looked up at Trudy and she simply pointed to the gate. You swallowed hard and walked up so she buzzed it and it popped so you opened it then walked up. When you made it to the top of the stairs the unit turned to look at you but you noticed Adam was missing then you saw that he was in your uncle Hank’s office with your uncle Hank and your dad.

“They know” Erin whispered and you walked past her and your eyes widened. Oh fuck. They were gonna kill Adam.

______________________

You rushed into the office and all three men looked at you. “How long?” your dad asked and you dropped your gaze “Since career week at my school” he nodded “So Ruzek, you’ve been sleeping with my daughter for months, working next to me”

You could see your dad and your uncle Hank exchange a look. You knew that look. That look was when your ex boyfriend had used the term “Put out or get out” when you were seventeen. You still didn’t know what happened to him. 

You moved to be standing in front of Adam and felt his hands go to your hips. “Daddy it’s not some random hookup thing” Your dad met your eyes “What is it then? Because this asshole has been engaged three times, baby!” “I know but if mom judged you for everything would me and Lexi even be here?” you asked and could see the hurt in his eyes at you saying something like that but you couldn’t let them think that about Adam.

Adam cleared his throat “I know Al. I know I’ve loved other women but not like TT” your dad looked over your head at Adam “You’re saying you love her?” Adam nodded “More than anything” Your uncle Hank was leaning on the edge of his desk and cut his eyes at your dad “Your play O. You want him out the unit, he’s out. You want to do more we will”

“Uncle Hank!” you scolded and he shrugged “I’m not seeing my niece hurt” meanwhile your dad hadn’t broken eye contact with Adam. “TT do you love him?” he asked you. “Yes sir” you replied and he nodded slowly then looked at your uncle Hank “He stays” 

You swallowed hard then your dad looked at Adam “Hurt her and they’ll never even think about you again. Understood?” Adam nodded “Yes sir” 

Your dad looked at you “Baby I love you and I’m more upset you didn’t tell me” “I didn’t want to disappoint you” he pulled you away from Adam and into a hug “Baby you’re my oldest daughter. My first child, you could never. Even if you looked at the litter and picked the one chewing on the damn box” 

@desimarie12

[mazuru7]

Just Finished Midnight Mass and I have some (a lot) of feelings...

Finished watching Midnight Mass in two days and three days later it's still on my mind (along with fanfics in the works...)

Firstly, I like the setting of Crockett Island; it has this calming beauty about it with a clear sense of isolation. The houses on the island are small, fitting because they're on an island but the chippings and the bits of dilapidation on the house's exterior is a nice touch. I don't know if the chippings are an effect due to the salty beach air or whatever, but the dilapidation does show the poverty of the Islanders.

Warning I am going to ramble about characters while also adding headcanons for future fanfics...

As an atheist myself, I did like how they went about Riley's character, granted, Mike Flanagan is atheist too. I'm just glad he wasn't a God's Not Dead or a PureFlix stereotype about atheists. I loved his relationship with Erin and maybe because I've been watching a lot of decentering men content and just being emotionally unavailable and unimpressed with getting into a relationship but I liked how he wasn't jealous or had audacity about Erin being pregnant with her ex's baby. He just accepted it and still loved her. (Ugh, in an AU, he would be stepdad, the dad who stepped up). But even though he was an atheist, he respectful of the community's religion.

Me and a lot of other atheists while we don't believe in God, we can see why others do. It brings them peace and even joy and it let's them be apart of something. Hell, sometimes I'm jealous of those who has love and faith in their God. And just like Riley, I research other religions, I even watch Christian TikTok of TikTokers who don't fit into what "Christians" (you know the type) believe are good people. I watch a femme pastor who uses they/she pronouns, a Christian Witch, and Jegaysus. They have the historical and cultural and the linguistics understanding of the Bible, and I appreciate that as someone who wasn't taught that.

But anyway about Riley, what I love the most is his end. Tragic and beautiful. He didn't want to hurt anyone after turning, more than likely thinking he doesn't want to kill someone again like he did to Tara-Beth; he spent his last moments with the woman he always loved, but just like how the Islanders found peace and forgiveness with each other and by each other and God, like how John/Paul found peace and forgiveness with and by Millie while holding Sarah, Hassan and Ali found peace with Allah, Riley found peace and forgiveness within himself. And THAT is just as important as someone finding peace and forgiveness through religion.

And speaking of Erin, let's talk about her. I was sad that she lost her baby, she was so happy to become a mother (she would've been a better mother than her own). Her relationship with Riley is so sweet. I liked that she was quote unquote what "Christianity" (society too) would see as a "fallen woman." She left her Catholic community, she partied and was wild, she got a divorce, was going to be a single mother, but she was still and kind and compassionate person. Which side note, that whole "born from the dust, return to dust" thing can be applied to, I think, to her and Riley, they were from the Island, left, and returned.

Another side note, this, to me, think of the parallels to her and Millie, which in turn causes parallels to John/Paul and Riley. From what Millie talked about from what she was doing in her youth in the Uppards, "Boys and booze," and seeing how old she was and how the societal expectations of girls were (and honestly, still is), Millie too, had a bit of an adventurous side (well, adventurous as she could since she never left the island and was surrounded by her catholic isolated community) and she was called "the mother of whores" by Bev (who we'll get to). She had an affair with a priest.

So, Erin and Millie, being seen as "fallen women," but still being so kind and compassionate, and loving and having small support systems (Erin from Riley and his family, Millie from her daughter) and being brave and strong (Erin left her abusive ex, she literally uses herself to distract the vampire long enough to slice its wings and using the hurt "the clipped wings" trauma her mom did to her to save others, Millie in front of the whole congregation proclaims that her and Sarah will *never* go back into St. Patrick's when John/Paul was up there talking all sorts of wild shit and SHOOTS him, the man she loved, IN THE HEAD, to stop him when he goes all Jim Jones on his congregation. (I love John/Paul, but honey...no).

Both women were "fallen women" who were loved deeply by the men who loved them even when they were apart; who, at least at a certain time, were seen as, what society (Christian and the like) thinks are good men - John/Paul a priest, Riley the "Prodigal Son" (until they fucked up. John/Paul literally brought a vampire to the island and lead to its destruction and Riley killed a girl and was an alcoholic. Both were cast to side - Riley in beginning of the show by many and John/Paul by the end of it by many too. But at the end that didn't matter, because they had the women they loved with them at their ends).

Unlike Bev who uses and manipulates people and does terrible shit to get attention and power and was seen by those who she manipulated as a "good woman," she was abandoned at the end and died alone and a coward, Erin (and Millie), the "fallen women" had love and compassion, they were genuinely loved by those that truly mattered to them and they were saviors, Erin clipping the vampire's wings and Millie forgiveness to John/Paul.

Erin's speech at the end didn't make me cry, but made me feel deeply. You go, Erin and even though I'm iffy on my belief in an afterlife, I hope she's with her baby and Riley.

Now we'll talk about Bev Keane...*sigh.*

Bev, Bev, Bev; I love to hate her, I love the actress that just makes her hateable. She's like the actress who played Umbridge. Such good acting that you just hate them because they're real people who we've met. Granted, I've never really met anyone like Bev, but I've been around judgemental Christians, few in my family and a lot in the church my grandparents went to (non-denomination) just saying some shit about the queer people and Harry Potter (which granted that book should be judge, not because of concept of magic as a whole but it was written by a bad person).

But anyway, Bev got on my nerves the first time she just lets herself into the rectory (someone take away her keys and get her away from poison), because I raised to respect people's houses and it would just irritate me if someone just walked into my personal space especially without warning. Like girl, get out of John/Paul's ass and go home 🙄. Pike the dog was right to bark at you.

Bev's whole thing was about obtaining power and she could do that since the place they were on was an island. If she pulled this shit on the mainland, then yeah, she would have like-minded people listening to her, but she would have a lot of people argue with her and a lot of those people would have facts. But barely anyone on the island opposes her until the end. Sheriff Hassan, rightly, was concerned for the Bible being passed around the school, Bev with no knowledge of Islam or anything thought she knew better but when he corrects her, she freezes, has an "Oh, shit" look in her eyes while the rest of the PTA look actually interested and nodding, learning in what Hassan is saying about his religion and how there are similarities between Islam and Christianity, how Muslims love Jesus and study the Bible too, but Bev shoots that down, taking power by bastardizing scripture, something she does and something familiar to the community.

She doesn't want her faith and inconsequentially herself, even though how she believes is terrible, to have a connection with another faith, another person, that she deems as beneath her. Which is impossible because Islam came after Jesus and Jesus is a prophet in their eyes too, and before Christianity, there was Judaism and Jesus and his disciples were Jewish. Now I want to know how Bev feels about Jewish people, probably not in a good light, and probably refuses to acknowledge that Jesus wasn't white.

This just goes with the theme of not asking questions, not seeking knowledge, just blindly following. Bev takes advantage of that, and lets be honest, what average person actually learns the historical, cultural, and linguistics of the Bible to actually understand the scripture and unravel that what the institution has taught them wasn't right?

...Not that many, right? And you would think as a teacher, Bev would like to learn but doesn't.

I've seen posts around here saying that Bev wants to be John/Paul's Mary Magdalene to his Jesus. I've looked up about Mary Magdalene (love her by the way) and I can see the comparison even in an ironic way when I'll talk about the pop culture persona of Mary Magdalene and what I think is Bev's internalized misogyny and her obsession with Erin and what I think was jealousy of Millie.

Mary Magdalene was a close confidante to Jesus to the point that we today speculate that they probably had a romantic relationship. I, personally, just think that had a spiritually close bond that didn't have or need romance. It was Mary who told the people (while the men where hiding behind close doors) that Christ has returned. Bev sees John/Paul "resurrect" and goes on about spreading the gospel, granted when she figured out who Paul actually was, she was about that whole "he has returned!" thing, but was full on into it when he came back to life. And Bev and Paul do have a relationship, it's fucked up, Bev uses him for his high position and wants to be close to that proximity of power, but Paul uses her too; the island didn't know that he was Monsignor Pruitt, he was a new face to them, therefore not having a relationship with them and even when he is performing miracles, it's Bev telling the people what to do and he lets her because that'll further his plans and he knows what kind of influence Bev has.

But there's also this weird, inkling sense of care underneath. You can make the argument that Bev was just using him and discarded him at the end, that Paul was using her for his goals, but the way she rushed to him when he fainted and held his face, how she immediately wanted to take care of him, how she made him homemade soup, and how she held him when he "resurrected." She looked genuinely upset, thinking that he died but her instinct was to hold him, caress his face, connect their foreheads, whispering to him while crying and being genuinely happy that he was alive. Mike Flanagan on his tumblr said that Bev had feelings for the younger Monsignor.

And after Riley's death while he is grieving, Paul softly touches and caresses Bev's cheek. There is care underneath that fuckery. And I speculate their relationship before Canon. Bev is the only one with keys to hid rectory. Why is that? Was it because when John was starting to get dementia, she was given the keys to help him? Seeing how old he was, in his 80's, he had to have known Bev FOR YEARS; I'm going to use the actress's age for simplicity sake, which is 45 and we know that she was raised on the island. Her mother was the teacher and Joe Collie knew her since grade school, so that means more than likely (likely, I headcanon) that John/Paul watched her grow up. So, she has always seen him as an authority figure, a powerful figure, but not a romantic figure, yet. Through the eyes of a child, adults are gross (and seeing the kind of person she is, she had to learn that from somewhere, so I'm guessing her mother and I can see her mother being like, "we're not going to talk about your body or sex) and by the time she was an adult, 21, he would be in his 60's, still not attractive to a young person.

But John/Paul comes back de-aged, around her age, attractive, with power, but he needs her connection and influence, yeah, she's going to be attracted to that. But then here comes Millie, John's love and mother of his child, you can see at the last episode, Bev put the pieces together, she looks more hurt than angry to me. But instead of cursing John/Paul, she insults Millie. You can say she did it to hurt him to insult his love, but societal and in circles of religion, it's easier to blame and insult the woman than a man, a man with power, even though she discards him when he wasn't useful, told her to stop, and didn't have her in his heart. She still called Millie "the mother of whores," which is wild because pop culture sees Mary Magdalene, the woman Bev is supposed to mirror, as a whore.

Mary Magdalene wasn't a whore, even if she was, that's okay. Jesus hung around them, but there's still that negative connotation about sex work. Pope Gregory XIII in the 6th century combined Mary Magdalene, Mary of Bethany, and the anonymous woman from Luke 7:37, *"...And behold the woman in the city which was a sinner..."* to diminish women's role in Bible. We don't know who this woman is and from my quick research, in Jesus: A Life in Conflict, Crossley and Myles point out that the term "sinner" in the gospels does not have a sexual connotation but in fact refers to "exploitative rich people". They persuasively argue that the "sinner woman" was actually one of the core group of affluent women that were supporting the Jesus followers "out of their resources."

And Bev did that whole money laundering thing, so that with what you will...

So, here's Bev mirroring Mary Magdalene, one of Jesus's confidante and pop culture's hoe, she does help John/Paul and desires him but doesn't act on it because that's not what "good Christian women" do and she has an image to uphold, she looks down on the quote unquote "fallen women" Erin and Millie who are actual good Christian women. Kind and compassionate and was all about love. I think Bev was jealous, Erin lived life (even if she had an abusive mom and ex-husband) and Millie got with a hot priest who still loves her all the while Bev stayed on a boring island, seeped in poverty and the only power she obtained was through manipulation while not being powerful enough like a priest because the Catholic church doesn't really ordain women, I mean there are 200 ordained women priests in the States, but they weren't ordain in the traditional way and I don't think, maybe, more than likely that the institution sees them as real priests.

Oh, God, imagine Bev as a priest...

When Annie Flynn basically said that Bev couldn't stand the thought of God loving anyone else than her, I was thinking, "Oh, it's what Sara Raztresen said on TikTok..." Christians like Bev, I think now, are so and viciously and ferociously insecure in their own existence, their importance, and general standing in the world that they cling to some sort of outside force to validate their own existence. Projecting her own insecurity as faith...

It was really ironic that Bev met her end beside the two people she looked down on the most, Hassan and his son while digging in the sand screaming, alone without love, peace, and no forgiveness. I do love to hate her.

Minor stuff before we get into two hot men and cutie pie who I want to write fanfics of with headcanons, my personal feelings, and rambles...

All of the couples in this show are so cute and as a mainly Canon x Oc writer, I was shocked that I loved all of the couples. I can count on one hand of Canon couples who I don't see making Ocs for. Utena x Anthy (Revolutionary Girl Utena), Maomao x Jinshi (Apothecary Diaries), Darcy x Elizabeth (Pride and Prejudice), Mitsukuni "Honey" Haninozuka x Reiko Kanazuki (OHSHC)...

Uh...

I'll think about it...

Anyway, love the couples. Ed dancing with his wife, them finding each other at the end 😭. Annie calling out Bev was so good and her leading the singing when everyone made their peace, like what Paul said, in times of darkness, we sing. Although I do side-eye her a bit when she said she was glad that Ali "left that behind," and I'm pretty sure she meant Islam.

But everyone making peace and forgiving each other was just beautiful.

Sarah is my wife. She was just so loved by her parents and I just love that fact that she's just accepting the weird shit going on. Like her mom is just de-aging and her bio, true dad is a priest. She's just going with the flow and I liked how smart she was and nobody made a big deal of her being gay. Maybe some did internally but it wouldn't be a good idea to piss off the only doctor on the island. But when she spat out the blood given to her by Paul, rejecting it, even shaking her head no, she knew what would happen and didn't want that. If she was going to die, she was going to do it as a human.

Leeza's speech to Joe Collie was powerful and I hope this was a good representation of disability for disabled people, I can't say anything about it, because I'm not disabled (although I'm 90-95% sure that I'm autistic) and I do like with her and her mom Dolly that we got black Catholic representation. She was brave and badass too at the end.

Joe Collie deserved better, loved his bluntness. I loved that Riley related and cared about him. I wanted that friendship to blossom, dammit! His and Hassan's relationship I enjoyed. Pike deserved better too, he was a good boy. And I, personally, think that it's ironic that he, a dreg in Crockett Island's community, an outsider, someone Jesus would've fought for, literally got sucked dry, ate, killed by Father Paul, someone who represents the corrupted institution.

And now here we are where I babble about two hot guys and a cutie pie who I'll write fanfics of. And these fanfics will deal with and have intersectionality, especially with black women.

I been a nasty girl, nasty, I been a nasty girl, nasty, I been a nasty girl, nasty, I been a nasty, nasty, nasty...

This fine ass mfcker🫦 the reason I watched this show.

This man is clearly still grieving over his wife, he still wears his wedding ring which I just learned muslim men are prohibited from wearing gold and is allowed for women for spiritual reasons. He said that before he met his wife, he wasn't religious and Ali said that he became Muslim (or something along those lines) because of his wife. So, I imagine her having such an influence on him that he took religion seriously. From what him and Ali were talking about when discussing about the miracles, he talked about how kept her faith, even when she was withering away from cancer. He probably admired the way she worshipped and kept her faith.

Despite their disagreements, Hassan and Ali have something they can agree on, whenever Hassan tells Ali to kiss his mother's picture, Ali does so without question. That tells me he misses her too, I mean he is a child that lost his mom, that is something painful to go through. To me, it felt like Hassan was more upset over the possibility of Ali leaving his faith because it would feel like slap to his wife's memory. (And honestly, just me, I got a forced conversion fear feeling, but that's just me because if you know the history of Christianity and forced conversions...ick).

Hassan just wanted to protect his son and keep him safe, keep him away from the Islamophobia he experienced but he ironically brought him to a place where it's isolating and the Islamophobia is still happening, just on a small island. He didn't want to rock the boat and cause problems to people who just ready to jump him and attack. But honestly, it didn't matter if he didn't fit the stereotype or did, he wasn't respected some people because of who he was. And as a black person, this reminds me of respectability politics which has its own issues but still...

At the end, he did what did before arriving at Crockett Island, protecting people and got to do what he missed, praying with his son.

Fanfic Idea, probably an AU where vampires don't exist or follows Canon, I don't know yet, but anyway, black revert muslim Aaliyah Ambroise has been husband hunting for awhile and job hunting after she quit being a history professor for personal reasons. She and her friends go to a Muslim singles event (I decided it was a skating event) where she meets Hassan who's just there to support a friend. They surprisingly hit it off and afterwards she gets a job as a teacher on Crockett Island where she meets Hassan again.

This will have an older woman, 39-40 years old and on the thicker side in terms of body, hijabi fashion, a revert, a black woman, topics of ageism, misogyny, racism, colorism, stereotypes, toxic family, women's health issues (Aaliyah has endometriosis), finding love after losing a partner and connecting with a future stepson.

Since we did Hassan, we'll do cutie pie, his son, Ali.

He just wanted to fit in, to belong and I've been that only black kid in a classroom of white kids and it was so awkward especially when we had to talk about slavery, so I can guess how it was being the only Muslim kid. I do wonder if he had friends on the mainland when his dad and him went to mosque on Fridays, and maybe that made him feel connected or awkward because these are friends you only see on Friday while thinking about possibly choosing to go the Christian God.

But anyway who else felt so offended when Bev called him 'Boy' at the last episode? I did, I lurched. That was when he realized that it didn't matter, he didn't matter to these people, they just wanted him to be a sheep, and maybe Bev felt this condescending superiority for taking away Hassan's son from him. I've seen "Christians," you know the type, how they behave when they convert someone, there's this air of arrogance...ick.

But I'm so happy that Ali was the one to burn the last safe space on the island, realizing and coming to terms with that these people will never accept him, no matter what. And he dragged his dad east where mecca is pointed at, the beach is calm, the sun is rising, and he's leading the prayer, something his dad and him did together. And at the end, he's holding on to his dad as he burns, accepting Allah back in his heart. I've seen Muslim paintings of them on fire, but golden fire and as he burns he looks like something holy. Have you ever seen what a halo looks like in Islamic art?

Yep, looks like fire.

But anyway, fanfic idea of Ali. New girl Yelena Spinoza, she insists of being called "Lena," moves to the island to care for her grandma and she doesn't even try to fit in. She's a afro-russian-cuban Jewish girl and Goth, but from the few instances where they do talk, Ali finds her quite charming.

This will be more of a teen romance, first love type story, puppy love, school drama, food, antisemitism, racism, misogyny, health concerns (Lena is celiac), reconciliation between family, learning to accept yourself, finding who your real friends are, and a grandmother who knitted a black blanket with the star of david for her Lenochka, because that's what Goths like, right?

And now we're getting to this man who started everything...

Mummy don't know daddy's getting hot, At the body shop, doing something unholy, He's sat back while she's dropping it, she be popping it...

God, he's such a slut.

So much has been said about this man already and I agree with a lot of them, so I'll keep this brief. Although I will say, that while I do love the Islanders, their refusal to see that old man John was sicker than he was, riddled with dementia, sending him away by himself to Jerusalem, reminds me of the "Let God handle it" blind faith I heard when I was a child and not get any professional help. Granted that costs money, then granted again, get John, Leeza, Joe, the Shabazz's...get all of the traumatized people some actual help.

But anyway, this man has caused so much shit and I love him. Everything he did was for love, he cared so much, and wanted the life he didn't have with Millie and Sarah. But that was his downfall, the desperation, he wanted to help the islanders and the intensity of his feelings caused Crockett Island to burn. Very Shakespearean.

This main was still grieving over his sister Alice, he became a whole priest to understand why did she die, especially in a horrible way. How could that be God's plan? He couldn't accept that things can just happen for no reason and that there doesn't need to be a reason behind everything. Life can just suck. He couldn't accept that because, to me, that'll mean Alice's death meant nothing, that she meant nothing, which further means that his death will mean nothing, he means nothing, and that just means death means nothing and life means nothing. How could that be God's plan? Why make people? Why let them suffer? There *has* to be a reason for him.

He might be a calm person, but he feels intensely. He can hold in his irritation, staring on and moving his fingers, but damn, when he explodes...he screams at Riley when trying to gaslight him, his first response when Sarah is shot is to throw himself on Struge and strangle him, that was instinctual, and he screams "WHERE ARE YOU?!" outside of the rec center after pacing like a fiend needing a fix, wondering where his "angel" was (ironically happens after an AA meeting with Riley and Vampirism has been used as a metaphor for addiction).

This man felt so much, his stubbornness, his refusal to see the "angel" is a monster (once again, the theme of not asking questions and blindly going along with it) and it wasn't until the end, he realized his huge mistake. But at the end of everything, he doesn't ask for God's forgiveness, he throws away his clerical collar, becoming the father he wanted to be, and ask for Millie's forgiveness because that's who mattered to him the most and she, their relationship, their daughter wasn't a sin. How could love be a sin?

Now, here's my fanfic idea, it's 1967, pre-canon, when John Pruitt becomes the new priest for Crockett Island and the welcoming committee is one person because he was brought to them early. And from that moment, him and Lydia Mangiaracina were connected.

This is more of a forbidden love story between a priest and a lay woman, midwifery, fertility issues, medical fears, Island gossip, historical events, singing/music (especially opera), racism, misogyny, ableism (Lydia has a limp), societal pressures, war, herbs and witchcraft (African-American hoodoo and Sicilian stregheria, because that's her heritage).

So, yeah, those are my two cents, my thoughts, feelings, and future fanfics, and I'm done rambling.

[rayyyzz]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓼

≪𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝔀𝓸.≫

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

The cold air hit your face as you walked into your college , hands buried deep in your coat pockets. The streets, covered in a blanket of snow from the night before, sparkled under the morning light. Everything around you was a blur—students rushing past, the sound of cars humming in the distance—but inside your head, it was chaos.

You couldn't stop thinking about him.

The guy that tried to attack you last night..

His face—well, what little you had seen of it—his orange goggles, the sharp reflection of the hatchet he'd gripped in his hand. The way he chased you through the woods when you were going back to your house from a friend's house , the sound of his loud footsteps behind you, closing in. No matter how hard you tried to shake it off, his image remained like a shadow over your thoughts.

You didn't know what to make of it. It was like something out of a nightmare—except you knew it was real and not some fictional story. You had heard the crunch of snow, felt the cold panic hitting at your chest as you barely escaped him last night. Every time your mind went off track, it immediately went back to him, to the woods, to the feeling of being hunted like a lost deer.

You arrived at college, walking through the entrance doors with your head down, lost in thought. Normally, the busyness of campus would pull you out of whatever mood you were in—the noise of people chatting, rushing to class, laughing. But today, it all seemed muffled, like you were walking through a fog. Your focus get away, and all you could think about was last night. That face...those eyes behind the orange goggles.

Your first class began, but your mind was anywhere but the lecture. The professor's voice faded in and out, like a distant echo. You stared at the chalkboard, pretending to take notes, but the words swam in front of your eyes, turning into images of that forest—the snow, the trees, and him lurking behind them. What was he? you thought. A psychopath? A killer? A  drug addict? And why you? Of all the people in the world, why had he fixated on you?

You barely made it through class, and as soon as the professor dismissed the class, you found yourself wandering toward the food court. Maybe some food would help, though your appetite had long since vanished. You bought yourself food from the food court, picking up something simple, and sat down at with your friends, hoping to distract yourself with your friends laughing about embarrassing high school moments would help clear your head.You tried to focus on the conversation but yet, they couldn't distract you.

The memory of him crept back in, his figure getting closer and closer in the night. You could still feel the terror you had felt as you ran to your door, praying to reach it before he reached you. You hadn't even told your parents the truth. If you had, they'd probably think you were crazy—or worse, they'd never let you out of the house again and lock you up, because you were their only child which they cherished so my h that they didn't want anything bad to happen to you. You were so lost in thought that you didn't even notice the news heading that came on one of the TVs in the corner of the food court.

"Breaking news..."

Your head and your friends heads snapped up. The TV screen had switched to a local news channel. A stern-looking reporter filled the screen, her voice laced with tension.

"We have an update on the string of violent murders that have been plaguing the area. Local authorities are warning the public about a dangerous individual believed to be behind the killings. He is described as a young man with a disheveled appearance, often seen wearing a mouth guard and orange goggles, and is armed with a hatchet."

Your blood ran cold. No way...

"This man, known to some as Ticci Toby,' or Tobias Erin Rogers ' is believed to be involved in several brutal slayings. His victims were found with multiple deep wounds, consistent with the use of a bladed weapon or even chopped up into little pieces. Officials are urging residents to avoid going out at night and to report any suspicious activity immediately."

Images flashed on the screen—crime scenes cordoned off with yellow tape, police cars parked outside houses, a body bag being loaded into the back of an ambulance, but they also showed how chopped up the victims were. Then, they showed sketches of Toby: the messy hair, the goggles, the massive gash on his cheek , behind the mouth guard. It was him.

Images flashed on the screen—crime scenes cordoned off with yellow tape, police cars parked outside houses, a body bag being loaded into the back of an ambulance, but they also showed how chopped up the victims were. Then, they showed sketches of Toby: the messy hair, the goggles, the massive gash on his cheek , behind the mouth guard. It was him.Your breath caught in your throat, and the room seemed to freeze around you. This wasn't just a one-off encounter. Toby was real, and he was killing people. "He almost got me", you thought, feeling the full weight of the reality crash over you.

The report continued, showing clips of detectives speaking to the press, but you couldn't hear it anymore. You were too busy staring at those victim photos, at the scenes of violence left in his presence. How many others had tried to escape him and failed?

The report continued, showing clips of detectives speaking to the press, but you couldn't hear it anymore. You were too busy staring at those victim photos, at the scenes of violence left in his presence. How many others had tried to escape him and failed?Your mind raced, racing with questions. Why hadn't the police caught him yet? Why was he still out there? And more importantly, why had he targeted you?

The food you bought in front of you now seemed disgusting. You pushed it away, your appetite gone. The room felt too crowded, too loud all of a sudden. You stood up abruptly, drawing a few curious looks from students around you, but you didn't care. You needed to get out. You needed air. You're friends were asking you if you were okay and you said "I'm fine I'm okay." They tried to figure out what was wrong but,

You pushed your way through the food court's front doors and stepped outside. The cold air hit your face, sharp and biting, but it did little to calm the panic rising in your chest. The college campus, once bustling with activity, now felt wrong. The shadows under the trees seemed darker, and every passing stranger felt like a threat.

You couldn't stop looking over your shoulder, half-expecting to see Toby lurking behind you, watching from the shadows, waiting for another chance. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you hugged your arms tighter around yourself as if that could somehow keep him away.

It was just a coincidence, you tried to tell yourself. "He doesn't know who am I" . He just happened to be there...right? It wasn't on purpose right..?But even as you thought it, you knew it wasn't true. He had seen you. He had chosen you. And the worst part? You had no idea why. And why he made himself known to you. Why didn't ye come into your house and kill you and your parents? Like how they always said he leaves no spare victims he comes into their houses and kills everybody in there. Why didn't he do that to you?

The rest of the day passed quite quickly . You tried to make it through your classes, but your thoughts kept going back to that news report, to the images of those victims, and the idea that you could have been one of them, torn apart, and chopped up into pieces. By the time your last class ended, you were mentally exhausted, the weight of it all pressing down on you like a heavy load.

As you left campus, walking toward the bus stop, you couldn't shake the feeling that he was watching you. Every step felt like a countdown, every sound like the echo of those footsteps in the snow.You looked over your shoulder one last time before boarding the bus, but there was nothing there. Just the empty street. You took a deep breath, trying to pull yourself together. Toby may have found you once, but it wouldn't happen again. Right?

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

Hey ray here, I just wanna apologize for the long ass wait for chapter two, I had 0 motivation to write during the few months but I plan on working and posting chapters 3 and 4 later in October because I’m found to do little one shots of Creepypasta characters x the reader since I have a lot of ideas in mind!

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

[viandclintbarton-supremacy]

Cruel, Cruel World (Crimson Mask Sequel)

*Beep*

"Cruel, cruel world, must I go on?"

*Beep*

"Cruel, cruel world, I'm moving on"

*Beep*

"I've been living too fast"

*Beep*

"And I've been living too wrong"

*Beep*

"Cruel, cruel world, I'm gone"

*Beep*

"Cruel, cruel world, I'm gone"

*Beep*

You sigh as you stare blankly to the ceiling in your hospital room. Deciding either to sing another sing off one of your playlist.

You frown at the pain in your head making you feel the bandage around your head, whilst also being annoyed of the EKG machine beeping. It's been nearly a week, since the incident. A week since your ex teammate, ex captain, your friend put you here. The thought of Millie sent mixed emotions in you, Millie always looked out for you and looked after you but that night she nearly killed you, on purpose or not!. You started to tighten the hold on your bed's support bars and breath deeply, every time you thought of Lucy or Millie you would start to shake but more violently when it was Millie. You started to violently shake a bit but managed to recompose yourself

You haven't watched it back, you didn't want to see what happened or the aftermath. All you were told was you were barged into the goal post created a very bad laceration on your head. You were taken to the local hospital while the game continued, the good news Japan won! Bad News you are out for the rest of the cup. You shook the thought as you sighed and grabbed your phone and sat up.

Ever since that night, your phone was crazy. Tweets, tags, mentions, dms, emails from fans, friends, the Barcalona Women and Men.........Keira, Lucy.....Bright. You couldn't open them, you just got so angry, sad, anxious.......hurt that you just wanted to avoid it as it was too much.

You scrolled down and read throught the messages you saw earlier that made you smile.

Yui sending you a video of the team wishing you well before it wad posted on social media.

Fran Kirby sending you clips of her pets and being goofy

Mapi Leon trying her best to find out what hospital you are in

Gundegun sending you messages of encouragement

Sam and Erin also sending you a get well video

Mentions on many of your friends and Fan stories also

One that you made you smile was Mary Earps. She posted a picture of your free kick you scored and simply wrote

"The most challenging opponent I have ever faced, Can't wait to face off again. #TheGoat"

Even though you had faced Mary countless times and never chatted except from handshakes, you both had massive respect for each other.

You then got a new tag from the Barcelona account, you clicked on the notification and waited for it too load as you clicked to video to play the sound also

The first face was Alexia making you smile to see your captain

"Hey little one! Hope you are feeling better! We are missing you, you are a strong human and have always brighten up our days. so hurry and recover so we can make more memories and goals together!"

The next was the Barcelona manager Jonatan Giráldez

"Hey F/N, we are eagerly waiting your return. The ambiance in the team can be seen, the girls and the staff are missing your presence and so am i!. Get better soon so we can have an amazing season"

Next was Mapi

"Hey F/N!!! I'm so happy to hear you are safe and recovering, i know how hard it is being stuck in a bed not being able to do what you love and help the team out. From the first day i met you till now i can say i am so proud of you! so is the team, the Barca fans and your country, Get well soon Little One!"

It would show so many of your friends, from Rolfo to Paredes to Patricia to Raphinha

then it showed the entire Boy and Girl youth teams. You always showed them support and help them when you could.

"GET WELL SOON L/N" They shouted as they cheered and some held little signs in Spanish, understanding some and some not it warmed your heart.

The next person

*EKG beeps slightly quicken

"F/N, I hope you are feeling ok"

You would start to shift a bit with a uneasy feeling in your stomach as you looked at Keira Walsh's face.

"I want to thank you for giving us the tough task of going against you and Japan, you were amazing and you should feel proud. Also i don't think you heard me on the pitch, But i am sorry if i hurt you in that tackle." You would feel the slight pain in your hip as she said it. You weren't mad at her, tackles happen but you just felt hurt on how she acted about it, that's what hurt "This season is going to be a good one and i am determined to break the number of goals and assist between us last year! Proud of you, see you soon!" You somewhat was happy but also sad thinking about her actions on the pitch.

The next person would show up

*EKG beeps quicken

Then you would start to shake and try to take a deep breath

*Beep Beep*

"Hey Little One"

You would start to feel sweat on your brow

*Beep Beep*

"I'm so sorry, i couldnt see you after the match"

Your lip started to quiver and jaw started to shake

*Beep Beep*

"But i want you to know tha-"

you closed the the app and the phone as you would cover your eyes fighting back the tears that were trying you creep out. you placed the other hand on your chest and began to breath slowly and deeply as the sounds of the EKG machine beeps would slow.

You placed your phone back down and looked out to the window to blossom leaves falling and calmed you. You then put on your ear buds and played the song "Beautiful" by Eminem

you would fall into more into your bed as you let Marshals words into your mind, comforting you and making you feel at peace.

Forgetting the face you saw on the the post a few moments ago that sent you into a panic.

The Face of Lucy Bronze

Part 2 End

Next Chapter: Pain That Shines Bright

So wow I didn't expect that reaction from part 1. I'm happy you guys liked it and got enjoyment out of it, I'm sorry this was short but next chapter will be longer I am working on more Woso stuff including Gender neutral since i want everyone to be included and looking at my requests.

I hope this chapter held up, hopefully the next part will be out soon. i will try to keep you guys updated.

But please let me know what you guys liked about it, feedback helps so much