#that was a one off issue that happened last year and people are terrified to death to discuss masking again

[nope-body]

.

[mochacoda]

night d(r)ive | yjh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x GN!Reader

Synopsis: As a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think that you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen. (Spoiler: You don't.)

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Friends to Lovers | College AU

Tags: short hair jeonghan, extreme pining, liking ramen as a plot device, crying, being losers for each other, insecure reader, lots of konglish w/ translations, overly indulgent kissing, no "y/n,” this is for everyone who voted jeonghan in the poll <3

Word Count: 5.8K

Masterlist

You‘d like to think that you know Yoon Jeonghan well. Surely, you do! Over the years, you‘ve come across—and committed to memory—dozens, if not hundreds, of his little oddities. You’ve witnessed his personality change with the length of his hair, and learned the hard way that cheating at card games is like second nature to him. At this point, you can recite more information about his pet rock than ramen, which is somewhat terrifying if you dwell on it for too long, considering that ramen is your favorite food. 

But despite Jeonghan’s chaotic personality, you also know that he’s incredibly smart, having sat next to him in countless college lectures and trivia events. 

Honestly, it can’t possibly be a stretch to say that you know the man too well, can't it? And at times, it feels a bit unfair that you can only reply, “oh, I know him,” when people fleetingly mention him in conversation. It hurts that you can’t clarify that you know him—that you can’t ramble on about how he made the stupidest joke to make you laugh when you were upset about your most recent midterm, or handmade you the sweetest present for your birthday, or let you choose your favorite film for movie night for the third time in a row—because no one wants to nor needs to hear about it.

But, unfortunately, that’s all you can think about these days. 

Because, unfortunately, Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, and most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. 

Yoon Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. Though he gives into his internal demands for petty possessiveness quite often, he cares deeply for his friends. 

He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his nonchalant but somewhat firm indifference for dating. You’ve witnessed him casually turn down far too many objectively gorgeous and incredibly intelligent people, which has convinced you that his standards are impossibly high. And if you were honest with yourself, based on the people he’d already rejected, it would be laughable for you to even think about confessing to him.

And so, as a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen.

In fact, you’re sure about the ramen issue, because you’re witnessing it happen right now.

You’re staring at his smirking face in the instant food aisle of the convenience store, both of you gripping the last Neoguri cup like it’s a trophy.

“You gotta learn patience,” Jeonghan tuts, his lips upturned infuriatingly at one corner. 

“No, you should learn patience. 손 빼, [Take your hand off,]” you demand, grasping the cup tighter.

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says in a sing-song voice, raising his chin in defiance.

The ramen cup creaks slightly under the pressure of your combined grip, and a terrible thought forms in your head. Your hand is sandwiched between his hand and the cup, making you feel the heat radiating from his body. It’s something you’re afraid you could get used to. 

You narrow your eyes, targeting his ridiculous, perfect lazy smile. “Take it off while I’m being nice.”

“Nah,” he replies immediately, smiling wider, his tongue sliding to the right. 

Your heart lurches at the sight. 

“치사하게 진짜 이럴 거야? [You’re so petty, are you really going to be like this?]” You chew on your bottom lip, eyes flitting between his face and his hand. 

Jeonghan tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes sharp and steady on yours. He’s not really looking at the ramen anymore, and the intensity of his gaze makes your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“내가 여기서 이 ��을 입고 있는데, [I’m wearing these clothes here,]” he says, using his free hand to pinch the fabric of the expensive suit he always wears at his internship. “굳이 라면 하나 때문에 나랑 싸운다고? 그냥 빨리 가자, 음? [You’re really gonna fight with me over just one ramen cup? Let’s just go now, hmm?]”

You press your lips together and jut your chin in defiance. 

He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. His shaggy, dark hair flows with it, and you can’t help but think that he looks princely like this, standing in the middle of this convenience store with his stupidly gorgeous face, and that dumb suit and tie. 

“양보해. [Give it up.] I’ll give you whatever you want,” he says, his voice dipping lower. It feels less like an offer and more like a taunt, a challenge. His tone sends a small shiver through you, and for a second, you’re not sure if he’s teasing or serious.

You have to take a slow, deep breath to calm yourself down before even considering what to say next. You’re grateful for the ride (and his company), of course, but that doesn’t mean he can steal your rightful claim under your nose, in the same casual manner he has when letting one of his fans down. 

You’ve always given into him. Because he means everything to you, of course. 

But you’ve had enough of letting him have his way so easily, not with your precious ramen at risk.

You boldly step closer to him, cutting the distance between the two of you in half. You’re close enough to see your reflection in his eyes, now. 

“I’m not letting go, 하니 [Hannie].” You firmly shake your head. You wouldn’t let him win this time. “I don’t want anything but this,” you add, stubbornly.

Tugging hard, you try to pull the cup toward you, but it frustratingly remains stuck on the shelf between the two of you. Looking back up, you see that he isn’t even straining to keep the ramen in place! You frown, wondering when your best friend got so strong.

He leans in just a fraction closer. “Keep trying,” he murmurs, and he’s so close that you can feel his warm breath tickling your face. 

The world narrows to Jeonghan, and the faint scent of the cologne he only wears on weekends. It’s dizzying.

“야아아! [Hey!] I was here first!” you weakly defend, voice embarrassingly squeaky.

And then Jeonghan does something that completely short-circuits your brain.

His free hand lifts and brushes your hair away to your back, before resting on the divot between your neck and collarbone, where his thumb caresses the side of your neck. Feather-light, his touch is gentle, and his fingers are impossibly warm, a stark contrast to this slightly chilly convenience store. You just about choke on your surprise, your heart kicking into overdrive at the sheer intimacy of the gesture. 

God, how is it that you never get a rest day with Jeonghan? How is it that he’s always flirting, always disregarding the boundaries of platonic and romantic love, always making you confused? And how is it that you just let it happen, that you just take whatever affection he gives you? How is it that you’re drawn into his dangerous touch like a moth to a flame? Except that analogy doesn’t really work, because at least moths don’t know that they’re in danger when they reach fire—you know what you’re getting into, and you know all too well that Jeonghan will never be yours. 

“Please?” he whispers.

Your breath hitches, suddenly aware that even for your overly-touchy friend, this level of skinship is extreme. 

Does he know? Has he found out that you’re in love with him, that you’ve been keeping this ungodly secret from him for far too long? Does he know that every time he lets someone down, that every time he complains to you about people confessing and crying over him, you give him superficial laughs as you swallow your own feelings? 

Does he know that you feel like sinking into the ground every time he entertains a random girl flirting with him, and that every time he crosses boundaries with you, it hammers in the fact that he thinks you’re a joke? 

Does he know that you’ve spent over a year trying to convince yourself that you don’t have feelings for him, only to fail miserably, because there is no such thing as cutting Yoon Jeonghan out of your life, because he makes you feel so, so alive? 

He must know. He must be making fun of you, now.

Your eyes widen, frantically searching his face for an ounce of malice. And you expect to see the look he always has when shredding the hearts of the brave people who confess to him, the face he makes when he casually tells someone that he doesn’t feel the same way. You expect to see an almost-cruel, blank stare paired with apologetic lips pressed together. 

You expect him to crush your heart. 

But instead, he’s staring at you with a gaze so, so, very soft, you wonder if you’ve hallucinated it. Shining eyes, raised eyebrows, mouth parted—he looks devastatingly beautiful. 

You can’t even bring yourself to blink, afraid that it might disappear before you can commit it to memory.

Technically, he’s looked like this before—you’ve seen it a handful of times on movie nights when you leaned against his shoulder, sleepily rambling about the bad decisions the main character had made. You’ve always figured that it was just the face he made when he was running on eight percent battery, tired and only half-registering the words coming out of your mouth. 

But now, seeing this version of Jeonghan out of its usual context, your heart stops. 

Your grip slackens.

In an instant, Jeonghan takes advantage of your daze. He snatches the ramen, links his arm through yours, and drags you to the counter. Your feet stumble, but his hold on you is firm, keeping you stable throughout the entire sudden exchange. He sets a bill on the counter, and then you’re being ushered out of the convenience store. 

The freezing cold bites at your cheeks as you stand in a haze of confusion by the passenger seat of Jeonghan’s car, unable to do anything but just watch as he starts the engine and unlocks the door. He stares at you through the window, waiting. 

If you could move a muscle on your face, you’d furrow your brows, wondering what he’s waiting for. But you’re still frozen, and before you can really think about it, Jeonghan gets tired of waiting. 

He gets out of the car and walks over to you, squeezing your shoulders as he shifts you a little to the left. Withdrawing one of his hands from your shoulders, he opens the door, and then maneuvers you inside, using the same hand to cover the top frame of the door. You bump your forehead slightly against it, and he buckles you into the passenger seat—all without a word.

When you blink owlishly at him, he just ruffles your hair and shuts the door carefully, then walks over to the driver’s side. 

Dazed, you literally have nothing to say. 

When Jeonghan gets back into the car, he looks over at you with an unreadable gaze, then reaches his hand over the console to you, this time holding an object out. Your eyes flicker downward, then shoot up at him immediately.

The ramen?

You squint at his outstretched hand, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. 

Jeonghan never yields. 

“Take it,” he says simply, airily, as if his giving up was obvious all along.

You hesitate, finger lightly tracing the top of the cup. 

“Come on,” he insists, his eyes still intensely trained on yours. “I… it was always yours.”

Your fingers close over the cup, brushing his hand. He exhales softly, the corners of his lips twitching.

Averting your eyes from him and his strange actions, you drop the ramen in your lap, then settle for staring outside the window at the night sky, finding it unbearable to look at him. Drumming your fingers against the border of the window, you get lost in thought. You’re not sure you can handle it if Jeonghan tries to flirt with you again. Every time he does it, it just hammers in the crushing idea that you’re nothing but a friend to him. That you’re just someone to practice on while he waits for the goddess of his dreams to appear, or something.

And then a strange thought occurs to you. A silly thought, really. When Jeonghan said that the ramen was always yours, he didn’t use the “ih” sound that the word “it” has. No, he used the pronoun “I” first, before correcting himself. A faint, pitiful smile makes its way to your lips as your heart pangs. 

Just what would you give to hear him say “I was always yours” someday?

Oh, maybe everything. 

────୨ৎ────

The gentle hum of the car engine fills the silence from the lack of conversation between the two of you. The moon and the stars are beautiful tonight, and you’re content with staring at them instead of the man driving the car. You prop your head up with your elbow against the window, closing your eyes with every lull of the engine. If Jeonghan ever looked over at you at a red light, you wouldn’t know, preoccupied with pretending to be asleep. 

When you feel the car come to a complete stop, you’re still feigning sleep, but you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows slightly. Surely, 40 minutes haven’t already passed? It seems way too soon. Had you actually dozed off at some point between staring out the window and faking sleep?

You peek one eye open, only to startle at Jeonghan’s gaze trained on you already, immediately opening the other. He seems completely at ease, with one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other resting on the gear shift. He stretches his fingers, accentuating the veins on his forearms, and you have to avert your eyes for a moment. 

“잘 잤니? [Sleep well?]” he asks casually. 

You look back at him, and see a strand of his dark hair fall into his eyes. Fingers twitching, you fight the urge to brush it behind his ear. 

You answer him with a nod and flush, wondering if he could tell you were acting the entire time. Hands itching for something to do, you fiddle with your seatbelt.

“야, 나 좀 보고 말해봐, 음? [Hey, can’t you look at me and talk, hmm?]”

You glance at Jeonghan out of the corner of your eye, then shy away again. He looks too good right now, too much like a doting boyfriend. You pick at a loose thread from the bottom hem of your shirt.

“자꾸 나를 안 보니까 섭섭하네. [You keep not looking at me, I’m sad.]”

You faintly laugh. In all your years of knowing the man, you’ve yet to see Yoon Jeonghan truly sad. He’s always, always composed. He never says anything without thinking about it first, and he doesn’t have to lift a single finger that he doesn’t want to, because he knows that people will jump just to fall at his feet. It’s funny that Jeonghan now just assumes that with a few pretty words, he’ll get his way. 

But your resentment is growing. It started with the ramen, and built up with how he won at the end of the fight. And it peaked when he gloated under the guise of kindly yielding the cup to you, leaving you stranded in your confusion, leaving you to sort out your racing mind and heart. What’s worse is, he has a history of doing this to you. But you never learn. Because he also has a history of giving the best, warmest, longest hugs. And he tells you all the time that he wants to be with you forever, that even when you’re 80 and wrinkly, he’ll come over every day to sing duets using your karaoke machine. And he has a bad habit of staring into your eyes with so much adoration, that you mistake it for real love. 

He has a history of making you think that his flirting might actually mean something real to him. But he never confesses any feelings, because they don’t exist, and you feel the pain of being used as romantic practice all the same. 

You’ve tried to convince yourself to just accept his affections as platonic love, but it has become increasingly more difficult to ignore it. How can you, when you get a rush of serotonin from seeing how bright his smile is when he whispers an inside joke to you in the middle of your fatally boring math discussion? How can you, when Jeonghan insists on picking you up from work even though it’s a waste of time and gas for him to make the far drive here and back? Your heart has grown to accommodate, and even expect, the constant fluttering it feels in his presence. 

So, to be exact, it’s not that you feel resentment toward him—it’s resentment for your lack of a backbone when it comes to all things Yoon Jeonghan. It happens all the time; you get mad at him, and the consequences last for all of five seconds before your will caves. 

“근대, 안 섭섭하잖아, [You’re not sad, though],” you softly say, eyes now tracing the glow of the crescent moon. 

Jeonghan shifts in his seat, questioning your words. ”What? Why would you say that?”

“아니야, [No,] forget it.” You sigh, eyes falling to your hands again. Picking at a hangnail, you inhale deeply. 

“Why wouldn’t I be sad? I love talking to you.” He removes his hands from the wheel and gear shift, then reaches out for yours.

You flinch, and he freezes. 

“Hey, did I… do something wrong?” His voice shakes, suddenly sounding strained. It’s the complete opposite of how he was just three seconds ago.

You swallow thickly. No, he didn’t do anything wrong. “아니, [No,] it’s my fault.”

He frowns. “What did I do? Please, tell me. I’m sorry, whatever it is, I can fix it, I promise.” He looks at you so earnestly, your heart sinks. 

“그건 불가능해, 정한아. [That’s not possible, Jeonghan.]” The words come out slowly and breathily, as if it’s taken you half of your life force to say them. You stare out the window again, this time at the stars, and add, “We should really get back, now. Why’d you stop here, anyway?”

“I figured you didn’t eat yet,” he says carefully. “I thought you’d want to get Thai. When you’re hangry, you yell at the TV more, and I get complaints from my neighbors.”

You blink, turning your attention down to the stores lining the street rather than the night sky. Jeonghan really had driven to your favorite Thai restaurant. “Oh. I didn’t know I did that, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replies softly. “I never liked my neighbors anyway.”

Your eyes close, remembering when one of your classmates, who happened to be his neighbor, confessed to him. He had vented to you about friends needing to understand when not to cross lines. The memory makes you smile weakly again, acknowledging how strong you’ve been for managing not to confess so far. 

Jeonghan continues, “But hey, your neighbors don’t like me, either. Remember when they banged on your door because we were singing too loud?”

You laugh this time, and it’s fleeting but it’s not forced. “언제 쯤 얘기야? [How long ago was that?] That was like two years ago.”

Jeonghan smiles. “You were wearing those teddy bear pajama pants, and I had my Cookie Monster pants on. They were like 70, and told us to stop being childish and grow up.”

“Maybe they had a point,” you say with a sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that you paid attention to those things,” you add offhandedly. 

“Pay attention to what?”

“You know, just… the stuff I wear, the random shit I do,” you say, picking at your split ends. 

Jeonghan’s wide eyes narrow, and you feel too hot under his intense gaze.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, voice deep and tinged with something you can’t quite put a finger on. The question feels strangely charged. With what, you don’t know. 

You gnaw on your lip. 

“Answer me. Why shouldn’t I?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, feeling put on the spot. “I’m just your friend. Shouldn’t you be spending your energy remembering weird stuff about a girlfriend? Like a serious romantic partner, or something?”

Jeonghan groans, running a hand through his hair, before it comes down on the console with a light thud. Your eyes widen at his unexpected physical display of emotion, taking in his clenched fists and heaving chest. 

“하니? [Hannie?]” you say softly, concerned. He doesn’t normally resort to physical exertions when frustrated, probably because he doesn’t get frustrated very often at all.

Your hand reaches out to his right bicep, where you rub the muscle soothingly. 

“Now you’re calling me 하니 [Hannie] again,” he says with a marginally more relieved, deep sigh. 

You furrow your brows. “What?”

“Now you’re calling me 하니 [Hannie] again,” he repeats. “Please, don’t call me 정한 [Jeonghan]. Only 하니 [Hannie].”

“Okay?” you say tentatively, unsure where this is going.

“You know I love you, right?” he says suddenly, staring at his hands. 

You blink rapidly. “Of course. I love you, too.” He’s your best friend, but you’re probably not his best friend. 

Jeonghan jolts, looking at you directly in the eyes now. “You know I love you more, right?”

He looks a bit crazed like this, his frantic chocolate brown eyes searching deeply for something in your face. At a loss for words, you gape your mouth at him like a fish out of water. 

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” you manage to say. “I bet I love you a lot more.” 

The statement is accompanied by a rather self-deprecating laugh from you, the kind that digs deep into your heart even as you try your best to seem casual. 

“No, no,” he says, reaching with his left hand to grasp the hand you’ve been patting his right bicep with. This time, you don’t pull away. “You don’t get it. I love you.” 

What?

Your heartbeat begins to beat so loudly that the sound of it pumping overwhelms your thoughts. Your chest tightens, and you’re half-sure that you just hallucinated it.

“뭐라고? [What did you just say?]”

“사랑한다고, [That I love you,]” he chokes out, his voice thick with the one emotion you’ve been dreaming of him reciprocating. 

You gasp.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Oh.

Crestfallen, your heart drops. You pull your hand away from him. 

This must be his new way to get you to relieve your “anger.” He doesn’t actually love you romantically, he just wants you to go back to acting like you normally do. He’ll never feel the same way that you do, in the crushing way that drives you insane every day, in the way that—

“설마, 나를 지금 무시하는 거야? [No way, are you ignoring me right now?]” Jeonghan’s wounded gaze strikes you like lightning. “아니면, 나를 못 믿는거야? [Or, are you not believing me?]”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. 

Is this real? A dream, maybe? The real Jeonghan would never say this. He would never, ever entertain the idea that you could ever be more than—

“내가 사랑한다고 했는데, 왜 아무 말이 없어? [I just said I love you, why won’t you say anything?]” Jeonghan’s voice quakes, and you’re taken aback by his pained, strained eyebrows and glittering eyes. 

Jeonghan’s eyes well with tears. He swallows thickly, “나… 아니야? [Am I… not it for you?]”

Your breath catches. He’s crying. Yoon Jeonghan—Yoon Jeonghan is crying? You’ve never even seen him sad, let alone crying. He’s always been untouchable, effortless in the way he teases and flirts with you, so sure of himself. So nonchalant and casual with his affection, that you’d always thought he never truly meant anything by it. But here he is, raw and vulnerable in front of you, holding his heart out with both hands—eyes rimmed red, voice breaking, mouth trembling. All because of you? 

He really means it, huh? The realization slams into you so hard you feel like you can’t breathe, let alone speak, your chest constricting like you’re having a heart attack. All those lingering touches, all these years. The way he’s always made you the center of his jokes, how he has the softest shifts in his voice when someone mentions your name—it wasn’t all a game to him? It was never just practice for someone else, for someone better? 

It was love?

God, you had been so overwhelmed with self doubt and insecurity that you’d convinced yourself that you had no chance, all while he was giving you clues through his proud affections, every day.

The man in question looks at you like you’ve just shattered his fragile heart, tears fully trailing down to his chin, now.

Feeling like your entire body has been engulfed in flames, you reach a trembling hand out past the gear shift. It trembles despite yourself as your arm extends to caress his cheek, where you carefully rub his tears away. 

Jeonghan shudders when your hand touches him, and he shuts his eyes. More tears fall.

“하니, [Hannie],” you breathe shallowly, still feeling an immense pressure in your chest. “Look at me.” When he doesn’t open his eyes, you swallow roughly. “하니, [Hannie], please?”

Stubbornly, Jeonghan keeps his eyes closed, and you shakily sigh. You want to tell him—no, you need to tell him that you love him with every fiber of your being, but you need to see his eyes to register whether he understands you. He needs to open those beautiful, brown eyes of his. 

You’ve never told him that you love him in Korean before. Something about it always felt too intimate, while “I love you” in English felt less charged. But you think he needs to hear it now.

Withdrawing your hand from his cheek, you unbuckle your seatbelt at last. Finally freed, you shift your legs until you're sitting on the back of your calves, facing the stunning, devastated man in the driver’s seat.

“하니야, [Hannie],” you say softly, his name a prayer on your lips, your face coming near his. 

You raise your hands up to tenderly brush the tears away from the soft tissue right under his eyes. Trembling, your right hand brushes a strand of hair out of his face, then rests on the back of his neck. 

Heart threatening to jump out of your chest, you hesitantly move closer, and closer, until your lips gently meet his forehead in a kiss so light, you foolishly wonder if he even feels your lips there at all.

“하니야, 사랑해. [Hannie, I love you.]” 

Jeonghan stills immediately. You can feel his hot breath catch against your neck, and you feel a shiver come down your spine. 

“I don’t want anyone else. Just you,” you say choppily, each word spilling out before you can think about what you really just said. 

When you retreat an inch or two back from his forehead, you can see that he has finally opened his eyes. 

“You mean it?” he asks, voice high-pitched in disbelief. 

Not trusting your voice, you nod three times. 

“Say it again,” he begs, his red-rimmed eyes downturned.

“사랑해, 하니야 [I love you, Hannie]. I tried so hard not to. 내 마음을 접고 다른 사람을 바라보고 싶었어. 싶었는데… [I wanted to let go of my feelings for you and search for someone else. That’s what I wanted, but…]”

Jeonghan inhales sharply. Distressed, his Adam's apple bobs up and down. Your heart aches at the sight of him so exposed, and your thumb moves to rub soothing circles by his collarbone. 

You assure him, “근데 그게 진짜 그냥 안 된거야. 도저히 너를 포기할 수 없었어. [But that really just didn’t work. There was no way I could bring myself to give you up.]”

Your fingers close to his neck, you feel Jeonghan’s pulse racing. Trying to help his heart settle down, you press another light kiss to his forehead, cradling the back of his head with your other hand. His breath shudders against your cheek. 

“마음이 하니한테 만 끌리니까, 뭐… 포기하려고 노력을 했는데 소용이 없었어. [My heart was only drawn to you, Hannie, and well… no matter how hard I tried to give you up, it was no use.]”

Jeonghan blinks up at you with watery eyes. 

“You’re it for me, 하니 [Hannie]. Okay?” Sheepish, you feel a bit embarrassed at having been so honest. 

Now that you’ve bared your heart and soul to him, you take the opportunity to really look at him, since you were distracted with telling your part for the past few minutes—and, oh. 

His pupils are so dilated, his eyes look almost black. His breathing has slowed down compared to earlier, but his fists are still clenched, like he’s holding something back. 

In a low voice, so deep that it wouldn’t have been audible if you weren’t practically pressed against him, Jeonghan finally responds to your confession. 

“You love me,” he says hesitantly, like he’s asking to confirm. 

The corners up your lip turn up, and he grins. “You love me,” he says again, only louder this time, and then he’s leaning forward into you. 

His hands find you first, clinging to your neck and waist sweetly yet firmly, like he’s afraid to let you go now that he finally has you.

When his lips meet yours, you melt into the kiss. His lips are warm, softer than you expected, moving against yours with an aching tenderness. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you in like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

He tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss, and a shiver runs down your spine when his thumb brushes along the curve of your jaw. The touch is so careful, so reverent, like he’s memorizing every part of you.

Then, he pulls back just an inch—just enough for his breath to fan across your lips, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes, dark and unreadable, search yours as if needing confirmation.

"You love me? 진심이지? [You’re serious, right?]" His voice is barely above a whisper.

Your chest tightens at the sheer vulnerability in his expression. You cup his cheek, brushing your thumb against his damp skin, and nod. "사랑해, 하니야. [I love you, Hannie.] 진짜, [Really,] I always have."

A sound escapes him—somewhere between a laugh and a sigh of relief—before he leans in again, kissing you with more urgency this time. His hands tangle into your hair, fingers curling at the nape of your neck as he presses you impossibly closer. The kiss is deeper now, more certain. He parts his lips slightly, and you do the same, the heat between you growing into something undeniable.

Your hands wander—one slipping into his hair, the other trailing down his shoulder. He shudders under your touch, and you feel the tension slowly unraveling from his body, like he’s finally letting himself believe this is real.

When you finally part for air, he lets out a shaky laugh, thumb ghosting over your kiss-swollen lips. "You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this," he murmurs, his voice husky.

Your heart swells at the confession. "Actually, I think I do," you whisper back before pulling him into another kiss, this time knowing—without a doubt—that neither of you are going anywhere.

────୨ৎ──── 

“하니, [Hannie,]” you say, leaning against him on the sofa in your apartment, drawing random shapes on his chest with your right hand. “We should go on a drive again.”

“Mm, a drive?” he says, distracted by his fascination with observing your left hand, holding it like a precious gem. 

“Yeah, 바람 좀 새자 [let’s get some air]. A night drive.”

His hands stall, lips curling up at the corners. “Oh, a night drive, huh? 역사적인 거네. [How historic.]”

You bury your face in his chest. “Mmh,” you say to his shirt.

“You know, you said 사랑해 [I love you] to me for the first time on a night drive,” he says casually. His hands let go of your left hand, then make their way to your head, patting your hair gently. 

You prop your chin up on his stomach, expecting to see Jeonghan’s pure smile. But instead, he’s smirking at you. 

“You wanted me so bad.” He sighs dramatically. “What else could I do, but accept your love?”

You can’t help but smile. “I think you’re misremembering things a little, 하니 [Hannie].”

“Oh, am I?” he gasps, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. 

If he were anyone else, he’d look stupid feigning ignorance. Fortunately for you, though, he isn’t anyone else—he’s the love of your life, and he makes everything look good. 

“Ugh,” you say, eyes shining. “You look dumb, stop it.”

“You love it,” he says cheekily, arms falling from your head to wrap around you in a big hug. 

“Mmfph,” you say in response, relishing in the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Not denying it, I see,” he says. “Overwhelmed by your love for me, you dove at my poor, innocent self in the car, kissing me all over!”

“Pfft,” you laugh. “No, that was you!”

“No,” Jeonghan pouts.

“I happen to remember a little crybaby confessing first,” you say with an upside down smile, hugging him tighter.

Jeonghan’s eyes look up at the ceiling. “무슨 말인지… [I don’t know what you’re talking about…]”

“야아! [Hey!]” your hand slaps his chest lightly. “나 좀 봐봐, 음? [Look at me, hmm?]”

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says, pouting. 

“사랑해도 안 볼 거야? 섭섭하네… [Even if I love you, you won’t look at me? I’m sad…]” you huff, burying your face into the sofa pillows instead of Jeonghan’s chest. “하니가 안 사랑해주면 난 갈 거야. [If you don’t love me I’m gonna leave.]”

Jeonghan laughs, “가긴 어��가, 여기 너네 집이잖아. [Leave? What do you mean, leave? This is your house.]” 

Jeonghan hugs you tighter, then suddenly sits up, taking you with him. 

“사랑해, [I love you,]” he says earnestly, staring deeply into your eyes, as if he wants to dive into the depths of your iris. Your name leaves his lips fervently, like a prayer.

“사랑해, 하니야, [I love you, Hannie,]” you say back, and you mean it. 

Because Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. And he’s yours.

Masterlist

Author's Note: here’s a big literary hug <3

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone - @fragmentof-indifference - @junniesoleilkth - @woncheecks - @peachypie97 - @viciousdarlings - @11zzyy

[metaphorfordeath]

Anti-Psychotic

A person living with schizophrenia finds that their delusions may have more basis in reality than they thought. Originally published in the Fall/Winter II issue of Diet Milk Magazine, available here. Content warnings for depiction of psychosis, violence, ableist language.

No one is watching me.

Julie has me write that down at our session. She never listens to me. She says, it can be comforting to realize that people don’t think of you as much as you think they do. I know this already. She asks, what evidence do you have that you are being watched? I say there isn’t any. Just a feeling. She writes something down, and asks about my meds again. 

So fucking patronizing. Of course I take them. I have taken mine like clockwork, every day, for five years. Maybe I missed a few days, but who doesn’t forget sometimes. My meds are cleat spikes jabbing into the earth. Helping me keep my footing. Making sure I don’t slip.

Last week I started getting the prickle again. Like fingers up my back. Someone standing behind me, breathing. I live alone. When I felt it, I wasn’t scared at first. These things happen sometimes. I’ve been around the block. The prickle and I are old friends, practically. When it finds me, I have ways to forget it. 

I drew the blinds, which helped a bit. I had a drink—nobody's perfect—but the prickle didn’t dull. So I peeked through the shades at the street below. Normal street stuff. The sun was setting, painting the world in shades of fire. Cars went by, all the usuals. Some kids were yelling in a driveway. A wasp tapped at my window, wiggling its feelers at me. No obvious source for the prickle. So, probably nothing. For the rest of the evening I puttered, read my book, ate some frozen nothing heated in the microwave, and took my meds. The prickle was temporary, I told myself as I lay down to sleep, the usual fog settling over me in a cool, clammy layer. No one was watching me. No one ever is.

That was a week ago. It’s only gotten worse since then. The prickle turned into a terrified stomach ache that kept me up for nights and nights. I called in sick to group, told Cheryl the caseworker that I have the flu. She sounded alarmed, but she’s only worried because of what happened to Devin.

Devin was like me: good at meds, good at therapy. We were friends, in a psycho kind of way. A few weeks ago, Devin started to get bad. Stopped showing up to group, didn’t even call. I haven’t seen him in a while, even when I went looking for him in his usual bad places. I miss him. I told Cheryl not to worry. I’m steady, just sick. I’ll see her again soon. 

I keep taking my meds, but they aren’t helping like they should. The fog I count on to sleep is thin, or missing. Something scrabbles at my skin from underneath, and I keep catching myself scratching little bits off of me. When I lay down, a low, neutral voice whispers nonsense at me through the pillow I clamp over my head. I can’t shower; that’s when the prickle gets stronger. Someone standing on the other side of the shower curtain, someone looking down at me through the water stain on the ceiling. I hiss and babble out loud just to hear myself talk, to shut up the voices that aren’t mine. I get sicker by the day.

By now I haven’t been outside in over a week, but my meds are ready to pick up. I don’t want to miss a dose, so I put on shoes and the big jacket that makes me feel safe, and I go outside. Birds leer at me from the tops of buildings. Walking in the opposite direction, an old lady frowns at me.

“Hmph, same to you,” she snaps.

My stomach lurches, but I don’t say anything, just keep walking. I hadn’t spoken. Had I? 

The drug store is brightly lit. It hurts to be inside. Too many things to look at. Faces on packaging look strange now. Confrontational. Interrogative. But at least they look like faces. When I look at anyone real, their features shift. Static snow eats at the air around their heads in a halo. It frightens me, so I keep my eyes on my shoes. The pharmacy tech who’s always there gets the packet for me, rings it up.

“Any questions about your medication?” he asks. I shake my head, pay with a card. He has glasses that give his face a sort of stability, so I look at it. His eyes are brown, beard gray, no hair on his head. He smiles at me. “Have a nice day, miss.”

“You too,” I mutter.

And then I go home, have to stop myself from running for safety. The walk is twenty minutes each way; harrowing, the passing cars huge and hungry, huffing and snorting at me. The prickle is more than a prickle by now. It feels like someone is pulling out the hairs on the back of my neck, one by one. My heart thuds against my ribs so hard that I’m afraid it will burst out, plop on the sidewalk and keep throbbing without me. The paper bag with my pills turns damp and tattered in my sweaty hand. 

And getting home doesn’t even help this time.

Julie says too much TV can be a trigger for me, but I start leaving it on all the time. Noise beats silence, any day. No empty spaces that need filling. I can’t watch sitcoms or anything fictional, so I tune it to the news. The news is always. Steady, real, factual. There’s a story about a body they found by the freeway. Pushed out of a moving car. No one knows or cares who it was. There’s a picture of the scene, taped up yellow and covered in those little numbers that say where a bit of evidence is. A tattered jacket lays in a ditch, dark with blood. 

I stand and race to the bathroom, cool porcelain against my hands, bile and nothing coming up as sweat pours down my back. My head pounds, edges of my vision sparkling. I can only see the jacket. Not dirty or bloody or ruined but the way it used to look. Devin’s jacket.

Something is horribly wrong. Men-in-black wrong. The-end-is-nigh wrong. 

The prickle wasn’t imagination. It was intuition. 

Someone got Devin. Who else did they get before him?

---

The next week, I force myself to go to group. I need to see faces. See who else is there, or not. Cheryl picks me up for these, since I don’t drive. I’m sicker than I can remember being, and try to remember to ask Julie about my dose on Tuesday. I sit silently in the passenger seat, feeling Cheryl’s eyes on me. Caseworkers all have the same eyes.

“Feeling alright today, X?” 

My name isn’t the name she calls me. You don’t need to know it.

“Fine,” I say, pinching my hands between my knees. They shake if I don’t. “Still getting over that flu.”

“Sorry to hear that,” she says. Her sedan has beige fabric seats. The passenger seat is dark, stained with sweat and whatever else from all the people she’s ferried around. A vanilla air freshener dangles from the rear view mirror.

Someone shouts in my ear, so close I feel a little blast of hot breath on my neck, and I flinch. Cheryl looks at me suddenly.

“Everything okay?”

She didn’t hear that. “Yeah. Sorry. Weird itch.”

“Hmm.” 

Group is fine. It’s usually fine. I don’t say much this time, just look around at everyone in their folding chairs. Their faces are wrong. It makes me nauseous to look, but I look anyway. I need to see who isn’t here.

There are no empty chairs, but there are fewer. One or two down from usual. All the other regulars are here, picking at their skin or looking at the clock or chewing their hair. I glance across the room and for a second I think I see Devin, sitting in his old coat. But when I look again, it’s just Tom. I almost hoped.

When it’s over, there’s bad coffee to drink. I suck on a red straw and let the bitter taste anchor me to my tongue. I inhabit my body, touch my fingers to the side of my face to know that it and my fingers exist. Sufficiently convinced of my realness, I go to Amber, our de facto leader.

She’s drinking water from a bottle with cucumber slices in it, cloudy with pulp and seeds. Ectoplasmic. It makes my stomach turn.

“Amber,” I say. My voice feels far away. She looks at me, expectant. “I missed last week. Have you seen Greg, or Mariah?”

“Oh, no, I haven’t. Greg was here last week, but I haven’t seen Mariah since like, last month. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

A crinkle appears between her eyebrows. I focus on that, since the rest of her features won’t stay put. “You’re worried because of what happened to Devin?”

“I think Devin is dead.” There is a sudden hush as other people in my vicinity overhear. “I saw his jacket. On the news.”

Cheryl appears beside me. “X, would you like to talk in the hallway?” 

She pulls me out before I can answer. “Have you been feeling alright?” she asks again. “Taking your medication?”

“Yes,” I say, a little forcefully. She clicks her tongue.

“Really? Because if you need to move up your next appointment, I can make some arrangements for you.”

Despite the fact that I do want to move my appointment up, her tone hits a button in my brain and my face turns red. “No,” I say. “I’ll wait until the next one. I’m fine. I just need to know what’s happening.” A rancid taste creeps up the back of my throat. “Where are people going?”

“Honey, everyone’s here that needs to be here.”

“No—that’s not right. I need to know.” 

I can tell from the way she moves that she thinks I’m getting agitated. She doesn’t understand what I’m saying. “People call in sick sometimes. You did, just last week. Mariah was having issues sticking with the program, so we’re working something out. No one’s gone.”

“Devin is gone. Devin is dead. He’s dead and no one knows it.”

Cheryl comes closer, her voice so low and venomous that it starts to meld with the others. “I’m going to give Dr. Bern a call and try to get you in with her sooner than Tuesday. If you can’t keep up with your regimen, we’ll have to consider another in-patient stay.”

Anger chokes me until my vision goes white. “Okay,” is all I can manage. I have some unsavory thoughts, which I won’t repeat to you now.

“Good,” says Cheryl, holding my leash. “Let’s get you home.”

I don’t sleep. I don’t even try. Someone is watching me. I think about Devin, the last time we spoke before he was gone. He got paranoid, too. He jabbered sometimes, when we would see each other. The same face, he said, with glass eyes. Looking at him. Following him. He said his pills were replaced, his furniture moved, nothing looked the same as he’d left it. No one listens to me, he said. I’m scared, he said. I’m scared of what will happen next.

“I’m scared, too,” I say to no one. A chorus laughs at me. 

---

“So,” says Julie. “Cheryl told me you’ve been having some trouble sticking to your medication.”

“I stick to it,” I say, and set the pill bottle on the desk in front of her. “Count them and tell me I’m not.”

She doesn’t move to count them. I’d hoped at least that she would humor me. “It sounds like some of your persecutory thoughts are returning. Tell me about what you’re worried about.”

“I saw on the news that they found someone’s body in a ditch off the interstate. They showed pictures. I think the body was Devin.”

“Devin from your group?” I nod. “We actually just heard from him last week. His brother answered when we called his phone. Devin is currently in a private rehabilitation clinic in Cincinnati. He’s alright, X.”

A numb feeling falls over me all at once, like a sheet. Something crawls up my thigh and disappears into a deep hole in my flesh. “Oh.”

“Amber talked to us, too. She said you asked her about Greg and Mariah’s absences this week?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I followed up on those for you, too. Greg had an accident at home and was in the emergency room during your meeting time this week. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to reach Mariah personally, but her father informed me over the phone that her family has pulled her out of the program. She won’t be returning.” Julie leans across her desk. “X, can you please look at me?”

I look at her. Her face is twisted, like a mask, papier mâché, drooping strips of plaster bandage. The static threatens to consume her, and me.

“I’m going to increase your dose to eighty milligrams. For now you can take two of what you have at the usual time, but I’m sending in a new prescription to the pharmacy.” She scrawls something on a pad at hand, and I take the opportunity to look away. “I’ll see you again this time next week, okay? And if anything’s the matter, you can call the nurse’s hotline. We’ll take care of you.” She hands me the script. 

“Thank you,” I say, and then someone brings me home. I am silent for the drive. Thinking.

Wasn’t Devin an only child?

I start doubling my dose. The fog doesn’t come. The prickle intensifies into ceaseless paranoia. I check the window locks three times a day to make sure, even though I live on the third floor. Chair under the doorknob, empty bottles stacked on it so I’ll hear if someone comes. I can’t stop thinking about Devin, and the others. Were they all really fine? Was this just a breakthrough-breakdown, pills ceasing their function and leaving me alone, spiraling? 

I hadn’t tried calling Devin in weeks. He didn’t pick up the first few times, and anyone in that state doesn’t usually want to talk anyhow. But Julie said someone answered when they called. Maybe they would answer for me.

The phone buzzes. Surging forward and receding, like a tide. Devin could be there on the other end. Getting better. Being cared for. I close my eyes and wait to hear his voicemail, or something else.

Click. “Hello?”

The voice startles me so much I can’t speak. A stranger.

“Hello?” says the phone. “Who is this?”

“Um,” I say suddenly, “Devin?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the voice says. “Devin isn’t here right now. May I ask who’s calling?”

“I’m—his friend. X,” I clarify. My voice is not of me. “Can I talk to him soon?”

“No, unfortunately he can’t talk. But I’ll let him know you called, he’ll be happy to hear people are checking up on him.”

“What’s—who are you?”

“I’m Eric, Devin’s brother. I’m taking good care of him, miss. Have a nice day.” 

The call ends. Something in my stomach shrivels. I run to the bathroom, but there’s nothing to bring up. I don’t know why that voice scared me so much. Why had I thought Devin was an only child? He hadn’t mentioned his family—maybe I’d just assumed, or forgotten if he’d said. Of course he had a brother. He was alright. They all were, now.

---

Days pass. Bugs make their homes in me. My medication runs out, the new pills ready for pickup. I’d rather die than set foot outside. But I need my stability. I steel myself to leave, and exit my apartment into the world. 

Everyone looks at me. They all want to hurt me. A car drives slowly past me and I try not to look at the people inside. My head hurts. It’s hard to see where I’m going, but I go.

The drug store is bigger than it was last time. Brighter. Angrier. People avoid me as I shuffle towards the pharmacy counter. The pharmacist who’s always there smiles at me again.

“Do you have any questions about your medication?”

I shake my head, fumbling for my card. He’s staring at me through his glasses.

“Do you need me to call someone for you?”

His voice makes me want to puke. I shake my head again, take the pills and make for the door. A crowd of voices shout at me as I stagger out into the air. I miss the way things were. My cleats don’t fit anymore. I tear the bag open, pop the lid off the bottle and shake a pill into my mouth, force it down dry and sticky and hope it does its job. My mouth is sweet where it lingered. It didn’t used to be so sweet.

There is a dull shock of understanding that blooms at the edge of my mind. The prickle rises on the back of my neck, and I look over my shoulder again. The pharmacist is looking at me from his position behind the counter. His face ringed in static. He waves at me. And I take off running.

There is no one I can call. No one who will listen. There are only doors that will slam in my face, white speckle tile and fluorescent lights and needles. He knows that. He knew it for Devin, too. He knew it for the rest of them. The wind in my face feels like fingers grasping at me, tugging at my hair, slowing me down. I race home, up the stairs and lock the door, brace it with furniture and then I sit on the floor and cry and cry. They’re laughing at me. Trading whispers. Look how stupid. Look how gullible. Go on and cry, crybaby. 

So I do. It’s all I have left.

The next time it’s group, I don’t come to the door. Cheryl calls me, but I don’t answer. There will be a wellness check if I don’t come. I want them to, now. When her calls finally stop piling up, I wait fifteen minutes, then step outside. I leave my door open, leave what I can to show that I am gone. I leave the pills out, and the script. Crush a few with my heel for good measure. I hope they can put the pieces together.

It’s dark, cool. It reminds me of the fog, makes me wish I could sleep. Eyes follow me through the evening. Headlights burn me as cars move past. I walk slowly in my big jacket, letting myself be watched. Letting the prickle come up my neck, creep over my scalp, trickle down over my face until it covers me in a thin layer and I prickle all over. The prickle and I are old friends. It tells me when to be afraid.

Then there are headlights at my back that don’t go away. The growl of an engine crashes into me. I stop walking, and someone gets out. I don’t turn to look. I can’t stand to look at faces anymore. Suddenly, I have a funny thought. Maybe I do have some questions about my medication, after all.

Something whistles through the air above my head, and the world disappears.

When I wake up later, I’m not sure if I have. There are stars. It smells like gasoline, copper and dirt. My jacket is gone. My mouth is gone, too. My hands. You’re caught, someone says in my ear, you let it happen. With my eyes, which I still have, I look across the floor. It hurts to look. There’s blood under me, sticky black. The prickle is gone. I discovered its source.

I’m alone for a long time. It’s hard to say how much. I realize that there’s a door behind me when it opens. Light falls across the floor, yellow tractor beam coming to take me away. I long to be weightless, but the earth won’t let me. Then the pharmacist who is always there puts his shoe against my face and turns me over. He doesn’t speak. He crouches down and looks into my eyes like he is trying to take something from me. Then he takes the tape off my mouth.

All I do at first is scream. It's all my body knows how to do. He sits and watches me. When I can see his mouth, it’s smiling, and I realize he likes it when I scream. So as soon as I can, I stop. Silence rushes back into the gaps, roaring in my ears.

“Good girl,” he says when I am quiet. His voice is a distorted growl, infrasound, rattling my eardrums. “Aren’t you such a good girl?”

I think about his throat in my teeth. I think about his blood on my face. For a moment it feels like I am lunging for him, jabbing thumbs into soft and fragile places. But he still has my hands, turning numb and purple at the small of my back. So I sit up as much as I can and spit at the floor near his feet. Faster than my eyes can track, he lurches forward. Fist in my hair, hauling me up to hip height.

He looks into my face with his glass eyes. His mouth is monstrous, all his white teeth sharp in a thicket of gray.

“I’ve been watching you,” he says. 

I know this already. There is nothing satisfying in the confirmation of it. 

He is not the man in black I always pictured. He could be anybody.

“Think of this as a favor I’m doing you.”

Then he hits me again. And other things.

When I’m alone, voices chatter in my ears. No one is coming, they say, you are alone. They will not find you. You and the ditch will be friends soon. So you amounted to this—better than nothing, we suppose. I shush them, rock myself against the cement floor and hum and think about grass, and birds. I try not to leave myself room to cry. I don’t want him to have the satisfaction.

A thousand years go by. Outside the room, there are voices. Not any of mine. His, and others. They start loud, and get quiet. His voice goes away completely. Doors open, distant, then closer. Light falls over my body again, and I feel the weightlessness. Real this time. My hands come back to me, but I can’t move them. There are faces, more than I’ve seen in a while. They scare me, but I can’t run, so I try not to look. Except at his. They take me past him, and I look. Through his glasses I see his eyes, still trying to take something from me. He has, by now. But not what he wanted.

I sleep for a long time, and when I wake up, the world is the way I remember it. My feet on the ground, cleats and all, not slipping. When I’m well enough they bring me to identify Devin’s body, since he didn’t really have a brother after all. They find Mariah’s, too. Greg really was in the emergency room, turns out. But there are others. Too many to think of.

Cheryl changes careers afterwards. Probably for the best. I find this out when she drives me to group the first time after I get out of the hospital. She doesn’t look at me much, but when she does, I can see her eyes are different. Not caseworker eyes anymore.

“Lauren is going to be taking over your case starting next week,” she says after a long silence. “So this will be the last time I see you.” I can tell she’s trying not to cry.

“Okay,” I say. 

She never apologizes. No one does. They all say they’re sorry for what happened to me, but that isn’t the same thing. People who don’t listen never think to apologize for it. They think they were listening all along.

Things are mostly the same as before, except I get my pills mailed to me now. And I think about Devin a lot. When I pour myself a drink, I pour one for him too and pretend he’s with me. I don’t have any pictures, so mostly I think about his voice. The last time we ever spoke, he told me, no one listens to me, X. 

What I said then was, I know the feeling, man.

But now I just tell him I’m sorry.

[finelinevogue]

the best thing

summary - you hate harry after that one night together, but when you need someone the most he will always be there

a/n : mentions of sexual assault, quite intense scenes, crying, angst, drunkeness

word count : +3.8k

pairing : ceo!harry x reader

You don’t know how you got here.

One minute you were eating crisps at home and watching reruns of Friends, then the next thing you know you’re at an exclusive event in the centre of London with your best friend; Leia.

Apparently, your best friend is now dating some actor who is in with all the A-list celebrities and so she can get into all these cool events now.

This party was hosted by none other than Harry Styles, billionaire and CEO of StylesTech. He happened to be the one man on Earth who you absolutely despised. Well, maybe he wasn’t the only one.

Harry became a celebrity when he got put on the front cover of GQ’s magazine for sexiest man alive four times. That’s right… four.

Harry was friends with James, your best friends new boyfriend, and had said she could also invite a plus one. The more the merrier was what Leia had said over the phone.

Now you were here.

Some rooftop bar in the heights of London. The lighting was very low, the music was very loud and the room was completely packed.

There was a dance floor where people were grinding more than dancing. There was a bar, which apparently was a free-bar. There was panoramic views of the city and tiny people below, making you feel like a Goddess up here in the clouds.

“We’re going to get drinks, you coming?” Leia asked you, James tugging on her hand to move them through the crowd.

“Yeah.” You nodded and grabbed onto her open hand.

You weaved through the crowds, apologising for people you bumped into.

You felt slightly too single here. Everyone seemed to be clinging onto someone and yet you were clinging on to a couple - third-wheeling to be precise.

When you reached the bar Leia and James ordered together, leaving you wait for another waiter to come to help you.

You waited a few more moments, before someone whistled behind you like they were calling over a dog.

“Oi, Henry. Serve this lady now.”

You turned around with a disgusted look on your face, only to be met with Harry Styles in front of you. He smirked at you when he noticed your facial expression.

You scoffed and turned back to Henry. “Don’t worry yourself about me. You can finish whatever job you were doing, hun.” You smiled at the young boy, who looked terrified of his boss behind you.

“No, he won’t.” Harry came and stood beside you. “She’ll have a vodka cranberry with ice.”

“She has a fucking name. Prick.” You mumbled the last word under your breath. “Sorry, Henry. I’ll actually have a Long Island Ice Tea, please. Thank you.”

Henry was off, probably to get away from Harry and make your drink.

“Sure your tolerance can handle a Long Island?” Harry laughed beside you.

“Don’t act like you know me, Harry.” You sneered his name.

“Oh, but I do know you. Don’t I? Know you very, very, well.”

You huffed, trying to not let his words effect you.

You knew exactly what he was talking about. Specifically, the night he was talking about. It had been one night back when you were working in a rival tech company. You had been issued to attend a conference weekend, there had been limited numbers of rooms and Harry - the gentleman at the time - had offered you a space in his room.

That night you had too many vodka cranberries and ended up sleeping with Harry that night - although not much literal sleeping actually happened.

The point of hatred for Harry occurred when he left in the morning after you’d confessed that you could see yourself liking him. You’d offered yourself to him for a date together and all he said was; ‘I don’t do seconds.’

Hence, the birth of the hatred for GQs sexiest man alive x4.

“That was one night, years ago. Wasn’t anything to remember.” You sneered.

You lied. It was actually one of the best nights of your life and no one has been as good since.

“Except it was. You didn’t scream that much because you were hating it.” Harry sipped on his glass of whiskey.

“You’re a fucking pig.” You grabbed your drink that Henry had given to you now. “Stay away from me, Harry.”

“Then why did you come to my party?”

“I’m here because of Leia, not you.”

You scoffed and walked off, leaving Harry leaning against the bar in his gorgeous suit to stare at you as you walked away.

The little black dress and heels would do wonders for the power walk away from him. He could see what he has been missing.

You saw Leia and James standing at a table and went over to join them.

“Hey.” You said on approach.

“Hey babes.” Leia smiled as James wrapped his arm around Leia’s waist.

“Cosmo?” You asked, pointing to Leia’s drink.

“You know it. And what the fuck did you get?”

“Long Island.”

“Do you even like them?” Leia laughed.

“No.”

“Then why—”

To prove a point. “Dunno.” You shrugged, taking a sip and feeling sick already from how disgusting the drink was.

“Oh hey man.” James unwrapped his arm around Leia to shake hands with someone. Unfortunately for you, it happened to be the one man you were trying to stay away from.

“Hey. How are you?” Harry asked as they bro hugged.

“Good, good yeah. This is my girlfriend, Leia.” James introduced her.

Leia smiled politely, shaking his hand, and you suddenly wished you’d told her that the story behind the ‘One-Night-Stand’ guy had been this guy. “Hello. Great party.”

“Thanks.”

“And this is Y/N, Leia’s best friend.” James introduced you, not realising that you didn’t need an introduction.

Harry stuck his hand out for you. If you didn’t shake it someone would know something is wrong, so you could your hand in Harry’s and tried to ignore the soft skin against yours. Instead, you tightly squeezed as if you were trying to strangle his hand.

“Lovely to meet you, Y/N.”

You just tightly smiled, not feeling like returning the sentiment.

“Have we met before? You look very… familiar.” Harry had the cheek to say to you. He was an evil man.

“No. You don’t really have a face that I’d remember.” You pulled your hand away from him in disgust.

“Oh really? I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”

“It’s not.” You smiled, returning to your drink and trying not to gag with how awful it tasted.

“Uh, so, what are you drinking Harry?” Leia asked, clearly sensing some tension between you.

“Vodka cranberry.”

“Ah no way! That’s our Y/Ns favourite drink.” Leia smiled genuinely.

“How coincidental.” Harry faked a shocked face.

“Yeah. Truly.” You rolled your eyes.

“You two must be soulmates or something.”

“That would require two people going on an actual date.” You stabbed into the conversation.

“I guess..” Leia looked awkward now.

“Your capable of going on a date, aren’t you Harry?” You innocently questioned, turning to face him.

Harry’s nostrils flared and it looked like he was biting back from saying something brass. Instead of speaking, he shot back a good half of his drink.

“Lovely speaking to you, Leia. James, we’ll catch up in a bit.” Harry nodded his head to them both. You didn’t miss how he didn’t acknowledge you as he left the table in a hurry.

You breathed a sigh of relief after he’d gone.

“What the fuck was that about?” Leia asked you immediately.

“What?” You asked dumbly.

“You and Harry. The sexual tension was insane!”

James nodded his head in agreement.

“Don’t be silly.”

“Y/N… C’mon. I’ve seen a penis and a vagina have less sexual tension than you and Harry. Get a fucking room next time.” Leia fanned herself.

“I give up.” You shook your head and downed the rest of your disgusting drink.

“Where are you going?” James asked.

“To find a fourth wheel for me.”

•••••

Twelves minutes later and you’d managed to find someone to spend the rest of your night with.

His name was Jordan and he was very good company. Attractive company too.

You two were cornered away in the back of the room in a circular booth. A tray of shots lay empty in front of you and another tray contained full ones.

You were playing a drinking game to get to know each other and now you were absolutely spinning. Your head had taken a hit after the fifth shot and now you were nine deep and couldn’t stop yourself.

“M-my turn.” You laughed as you hiccuped.

“Okay.”

Jordan sat close to you, his arm wrapped around the back of the booth where you were sat. His eyes were deep brown and his hair was light blonde. He looked the complete opposite of Harry, which maybe was subconsciously a choice.

“Favourite sex position?” You giggled immaturely.

“Hmm. Doggy. I actually hate seeing a girls face when we’re fucking.” He replied and you had to take a shot because he answered honestly.

That should’ve been your first red flag about Jordan.

You just laughed instead.

“My turn. Have you ever masturbated?”

“Alllll the time. No guy does it for me anymore.” You laughed sadly.

Jordan took his shot and then moved in closer towards you. You tilted your head so he could speak into your ear.

“I could fix that problem for you.”

Your eyes bugged at his forwardness.

“No thanks.” You shook your head and laughed to try and keep it civil.

“Oh c’mon. You’ve been flirting with me all night and you know it.” His hand dropped onto your shoulders and pulled himself closer. His other hand dropped onto your bare thigh and started rubbing up and down on your soft skin.

“No I haven’t!” You laughed the situation off.

“You have. And I bet you’re all excited ‘cause of it.”

He started moving his hand further up your leg. Due to your toxic alcohol intake your reaction times were a little slower, but when his hand had made it underneath your dress-skirt you gasped and tried to tug his hand away.

“No. Please stop.” You said softly, whining as he tried to push his hand higher.

His face came closer again and he started to kiss your cheek. You tried to move your face away but his other hand was there to trap you and keep you close.

You started to worry because of how dark it was and how hidden away you were. Everyone was busy dancing and drinking away and none the wiser about the situation you were in.

“Give in, you tease.” His hot breath felt disgusting against your skin.

“I said no. Please.”

You struggled to push him off. Both your hands were focusing on his hand on your leg that you couldn’t do much to get his face away from yours.

“You’ve been teasing me all night and now we get to play.” He laughed.

Tears formed in your eyes as you kept pushing and pushing and pushing. You kept saying no over and over again, but Jordan was just not listening.

He felt disgusting on you and it made you feel just as disgusting.

Jordan just kept laughing whilst you were crying.

An employee caught your eye - in fact, it was Henry. You thought he might’ve come over to you and help, since he could clearly see you crying and struggling with Jordan on you, but instead he turned and walked away.

You sobbed then, thinking that might’ve been your only chance to get help and he just left.

You wondered whether it was because Harry was a dick to him.

You closed your eyes and tried to think of happy thoughts as Jordan started attacking your neck.

You tried to think of Harry. It wasn’t hard.

He was constantly on your mind.

“You taste so good. Stop denying me all of you.” Jordan bit your neck too harshly to be pleasurable.

“Jordan, no!” You shoved with all your strength and managed to completely get him off. You were pissed now. Your mascara may have run, your eyes red and blotchy, your breath shaky, but that was all he was getting from you.

“No?” Jordan scoffed. “NO?”

Jordan grabbed your cheeks and pulled you towards him.

“Ow.” You mumbled through his harsh grip.

“Listen here you little bi—”

“The fuck is going on here?”

Jordan dropped your face and straightened his jacket, whilst you turned your head to find who you already knew was there; Harry.

His voice had sent a wave of calmness through your body the second he started speaking. Now he was standing there with a deathly look on his face you couldn’t help but feel relief.

And you noticed Henry standing behind him, looking just as angry.

“Hi boss. Just having fun.” Jordan responded.

Harry looked between Jordan and you. Jordan looked dazed and content, whilst you looked broken and scared.

“Are you okay?” Harry looked intensely at you.

“She’s fi—”

“I wasn’t fucking speaking to you, was I?” Harry rhetorically asked. “Y/N, come here, love.”

Harry held out his hand, palm facing up.

You made no hesitation as you weakly moved away from Jordan and towards Harry.

Harry helped you stand up and kept a tight hold on your hand. It grounded you, his touch.

“Can I touch you? Just on your face?” Harry asked you softly and you nodded.

Harry cautiously held your chin and moved your head to the side, noticing the red mark and blood on your neck. He hadn’t taken note of your legs yet, but he would come to find red marks on them too.

Your teary eyes were wiped by Harry’s careful thumb. You looked down at his shoes the entire time, too afraid to look at him. You knew you’d crumble if you did.

“Are you okay?” He asked you again.

“No.” You said softly, shaking your head. “I-I was really scared, Harry.” Your voice broke and Harry immediately cupped the back of your head and brought you into his chest. You collapsed there and Harry’s hands held you up strong.

“You’re okay now. I’m here, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” Harry said, whilst nodding his head discreetly to the two security men.

They came over within seconds and yanked Jordan out of the booth. His protests were no match for the security guys. As he was being escorted out, Harry stopped him to say “See you in court.”

After Harry had thanked Henry with a nod and smile, he walked the small distance over to the same booth and sat down on the edge of it, pulling you to sit on his lap.

Your body was still wracking with sobs, but only because the adrenaline of the situation had been too much for you.

Now you knew you were safe, it was too much.

Harry made you feel safe.

He rocked you as he held you. It was too loud to have a quiet, serious, conversation, but his actions spoke loud anyways. I’m here. You’re safe. It’s okay now.

You heard Harry shout to someone for a glass of cold water, which was brought back to you within a minute.

"Here, sunshine, drink this." Harry spoke closely to you so you could hear.

He held the glass up to your lips and tipped it back slowly for you. Your hands were too shaky to hold onto it yourself, but you managed to drink carefully with the help of Harry.

He even knew when you'd had enough.

Harry's hand cupped the side of your head and brought you to rest back onto his chest. His head stayed rested on top of yours and you both just sat like that for ten minutes or so. It was hard to know exactly how long.

You just sat and thought about everything that had happened tonight and everything that could have happened. Mixed with that, your brain was constantly thinking about Harry and how much, no matter how hard you try otherwise, you like him.

Your heart feels constantly pulled towards him. He's like a beacon in the middle of a storm, safely guiding you towards home.

Just as those thoughts were circling your mind, Harry made his move.

He told you he was going to stand up, so you let yourself slide off his legs onto your own shaky ones. You thought he might be leaving you to go back and mingle with the other guests, so you stood shy to the side.

Harry leaned over to Henry and whispered something in his ear to which Henry nodded.

Before you could make plans as to what you were going to do now, Harry held out his hand to you again - giving you a choice to take it or not. Of course, you took it.

He squeezed your hand in reassurance and then lead you off and out of the room.

You two made no conversation as you wandered out of the noisy room and into a quiet staircase. Harry started walking up the stairs, so you followed him.

It was another two minutes before you made it to the top of the stairs and through a door that led to a rooftop. It was only very small. It overlooked the city skyline, with hundreds of twinkling lights casting shadows over the small space.

There were twinkling fairy lights too, up here. They were knotted around various creeping wall plants like ivy. In the corner of the square space there was a big L-shaped sofa with plenty of cushions and throws.

Harry turned back to smile at you, leading you to the sofa.

He sat down and let go of your hand, allowing you to choose where to sit.

You took one last glance at the skyline and up to the moon, before deciding.

"Wanna sit next to you." You said in a small voice.

"Okay." Harry smiled perfectly.

He shuffled back into the corner of the L-shaped sofa, sitting up and letting his legs stretch out on the chair in front of him. He patted his lap next with a smile. You shuffled over to him and sat on his lap, perpendicular to the way he was sitting so your legs stretched out along the other length of the chair.

"Comfortable?" He asked.

"Mhm."

Harry wasn't too sure though, and next thing you knew he was gathering a couple of blankets to throw over your legs and shoulders.

"Better. Thank you." You nodded.

"You're welcome."

"It's beautiful up here."

"I guess it is."

"Is it all yours?" You questioned.

"What? Everything up here?"

You nodded. Harry then took your hands in his and started to play with the few rings you had on.

"No. Not everything is mine."

You looked up at him and into his eyes, noticing he was looking straight back at you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you thought about the implications to his words. You couldn't help but let a blush and smile take over your face. If he was implying what you thought he was then maybe you were in with a chance of Harry liking you back.

"What do you want to have? You're a billionaire. You could have anything you want." You asked, curiously.

"No even a billionaire can buy everything." He smiled sadly.

"Well, what do you wish you could buy even though you can't?"

Harry chuckled under his breath, "Redemption. A second chance. Love."

You tilted your head back against the sofa, your head feeling less and less drunk by the minute. You sighed, looking at the beautiful moon and wondering how lonely she must be up there.

Loneliness is something you've suffered with for far too long.

You wanted to find that connection with that someone who makes you feel wanted, feel loved and feel chosen. You craved it.

You chuckled.

"What?" Harry asked, softly caressing over the back of your hand.

"It's just funny, is all."

"What is?"

"Us, wanting the same thing. Wonder if we want it from the same people." You tilted your head to the side to face Harry, watching him lick his lips as he looked at yours not-so-subtly.

"You already know we do." Harry said quietly, leaning in towards you.

Your breath hitched as he got closer, your heart beating faster than your brain was processing the motions. You knew you wanted to kiss Harry as badly as he wanted to kiss you, but not like this. Not yet, at least.

"Harry, wait..." You said, watching him stop immediately.

"Fuck. Shitting, fuck. Sorry, Y/N. That was completely inappropriate of me. I mean.. After... Tonight and us... and...."

Harry shot back to his original position and ran a stressed hand over his face as he tried to work through his thoughts.

You smiled as you watched him panic, before taking his stressed hands in yours and kissing the back of it softly - right over that small triage of freckles you knew sat pretty there.

"Hey. It's okay." You reassured him. "I'm not stopping you because of what happened this evening. I'm stopping you because I feel I deserve to know why I wasn't enough the first time around."

This was you standing up for yourself.

"Weren't enou-.. Y/N, love. God, I was such a dick. I never, ever, left you because I thought you weren't enough. I left because I didn't think I was. I was a nobody back then. I looked at you and saw someone who could literally be the epitome of sunshine, and then I looked at me and all I saw was a dark cloud that would cover you. I never thought someone as bright, as happy and as golden as you should ever have to be with someone like me. Hell, it's still a thought that niggles away at the back of my mind. But, I've learnt that I can't let those thoughts win. I owe it you myself, and definitely to you, to at least try."

"Well that was as good as apologies get." You sniffled, trying to hold back the happy tears.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, for our wasted years. I... I just wasn't ready for us back then and I know I was a prick about it."

"You were. A right big prick."

Harry wiggled his eyebrows and you had to fake punch him for it.

"I'm sorry." He said honestly. "And I'm sorry for tonight too."

"That wasn't your fault, okay? I promise." You squeezed his hand.

"Okay. I'm still suing that motherfucker though."

"You're a billionaire already!"

"So? I was going to donate the money to a sexual assault charity or something." He shrugged his shoulders like what he just said was no big deal - like he hadn't just shown his truest heart.

"You're a good person, Harry, who deserves good things." You moved closer to him.

"I am?"

"Mhm."

"Do these 'good things' include you?"

"I don't know. Do you think I'm a good thing?" You teased him.

Harry leaned in closer. "No. I think you're the best."

[prideprejudce]

I feel like people have read into Alicent's response to Rhaenyra's ultimatum in both good AND bad faith ways, but i feel like I haven't seen much of what Rhaenyra was feeling about it!!

Personally, I feel like the ultimatum she gave Alicent was the product of 3 different motivations- first, it was the obvious political move to kill the usurper to her throne, duh. The second, is that I think Rhaenyra is super aware- and terrified of- being trapped in a cycle of loss, being passed over for a son, and her claim to the throne standing only because of what she represents not her as a person. Thats its own whole fascinating character essay i cant get into here lol.

But the third reason is that I THINK she has a desperate personal obsession with being chosen by Alicent over Aegon, and leans into the ultimatum as a way to extract what she needs from Alicent-- to be chosen and prioritized over her father's son, and be the centre of Alicent's attention (romantic or not).

The directors/writers have mentioned one of the crucial aspects of Rhaenyra and Alicent's relationship is how many times Rhaenyra reaches out, only to be rejected by Alicent over and over. I think Rhaenyra, as someone who really internalized going after what she wants from a young age, is a bit spoiled, and is obsessed with Alicent's continuous rejection as both a novelty, and a deep source of insecurity.

Rhaenyra has a bit of magical thinking where she really does think that if she just pushes hard enough she can change the world into the shape she wants it to be, and I think when Alicent CONTINUES to deny her, she gets more and more frustrated.

Double this with her general issues around being passed over for a son, first from her father with baelon, and then COMPOUNDED with baby aegon stealing both her father AND alicent's attention as alicent prioritized birthing and probably caring for her son over rhaenyra's sulking when Rhaenyra was in the most pain she had been in yet in her life.

I think Rhaenyra is HIGHLY resentful about not just aegon usurping her throne, but also the lack of attention during the HEIGHT of her teenage years, where she already has a contentious relationship with her father AND .....stepmother?? first love??? sister?? (targaryen family incest issues are a wonderful icing on top of this cake)

It was very clear that the reason Alicent married viserys was SPECIFICALLY to have more children, and that Alicent CHOSE (from Rhaenyra's perspective) to put herself in that position JUST after Aemma died from the same cause, becoming a mother rather than staying with Rhaenyra and daydreaming about riding off into the sunset. In Rhaenyra's mind, she lost her mother to the promise of a son, only to lose Her Alicent™️ to ANOTHER promise of a son right after. This is probably the deepest rejection Alicent could have given her.

The entire second half of season 2 is more denial; Rhaenyra's marriage proposal of their children is rejected, Alicent rejects Rhaenyra's bastard sons in general, and Rhaenyra's choices by extension, then driftmark happens, then the ENTIRE USURPTION happens, rejecting Rhaenyra's claim to her own birthright.

Rhaenyra even tries AGAIN in season 3 - extending herself to go into Alicent's place of comfort to sue for peace, even telling Alicent bits of a personally sacred religious doctrine only to be rejected AGAINNNNNNN.

(I could write forever about how Rhaenyra indulges Alicent's religious but never gets the same back on her own customs)

Yah, I think when Rhaenyra sees Alicent next, its not just that the ultimatum is a political necessity, but its decades of rejection culminating in 'you need to choose and prioritize me over everything, including your son, bc i cannot take anymore rejection from you, and I cant handle NOT being the most important thing in your whole world tbh :)' Especially on the heels of her newfound radicalization i feel like Rhaenyra sees Alicent's 'Choosing Rhaenyra' this time as a Holy Blessing and the last crucial piece she needs to self actualize.

(Also never forget all of this takes place in the targaryen CESSPOOL that is Rhaenyra having Alicent as a sister/step mother/half employee?? Alicent was at least her subordinate at one point/only confidante/possible first love-- theres probably alot of projection on Rhaenyra's part for what Alicent's approval means to her)

sorry this is so long the word rejection has ceased to mean anything to me at this point

"Rhaenyra sees Alicent's 'choosing Rhaenyra' this time as a Holy Blessing and the last crucial piece that she needs to self actualize"

what if we all just set each other on fire

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Bad Day, Bad Week, Bad Month

David Howard Thornton x Y/N - drabble - 943 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, mention of self harm, depression, sweet bf, 1000% based on true events of how my week has gone, enjoy munchkins <3

--------------------------------

You laid on the floor doing nothing but staring at the ceiling. The only light in the room coming from one of your salt lamps in the corner, casting an orange glow throughout the living room. The pitter patter of the rain on the windows echoed throughout the house. You heard the door open and shut but made no move to get up. 

“Hun?” you heard David call out as his steps got closer to the living room. “Having fun down there?” he asked, leaning on the back of the couch.

“Bad day. Bad week. Bad month.” you sighed.

David could see it, the exhaustion on your face. How the bags under your eyes had gotten darker, how your skin looked paler than normal, how your usually bubbly self was completely defeated. He felt bad, he had been visiting different conventions to finish promoting Terrifier 3. He tried to call most days but with the time differences and schedule conflicts you were both lucky if your texts got to each other.

“Don’t do that.” you said, eyes finally shifting to him. “Don’t feel bad or blame yourself.” you didn’t want to see the pity on his face.

David kicked his shoes off towards the front door before sitting criss-cross next to you. He gently held one of your hands, tracing over your fingers deftly. “Wanna tell me about it?” he asked, genuinely wanting to comfort you. 

You sighed, sitting up a bit to sit across from him. “I got laid off last month and haven’t found a new job yet. I have spent all the money I have on bills and have no idea how I’m going to pay for anything next month. Yesterday my fucking tire popped and of course its one of the tires that I didn’t get insured like the back two so I had to call family in tears to ask them for help and that was like $210. Just sobbing in a tire store. Oh! And I got denied from being able to sell plasma to make a bit of money because of a treatment I had 10 years ago that even my doctor said is long out of my system and wouldn’t affect anything. Everything just… sucks.” you rambled on, you don’t remember when you started crying but you were. 

David pulled you into his chest, letting you cry as he held you close. “Baby why didn’t you tell me about anything?” 

“I don’t want to depend on you. I don’t want people to think I’m some gold digger if we ever went public. I’m an adult and I’m supposed to have my shit together.” you said, sounding incredibly harsh towards yourself.

“I understand all that but life is life and it happens. There is nothing wrong with asking for help.” he said, kissing the top of your head.

“There is a difference between asking for a cup of sugar kind of help and asking for financial help.” you said.

David knew you had issues with trust and money. When you two started dating it took a solid 6 months before you let him pay for dinner. He has always tried to work within the confines of your anxiety, but right now? There was no room to work within, you were just going to have to trust him. 

“I know you don’t want it, but I’d like to help you. I don’t like seeing you in pain and this stress I guarantee is making your depression and anxiety worse.” he said before his eyes widened slightly, “Have you…” he trailed off quietly but you knew what he was asking.

You averted your eyes, “It was days ago, I’m fine. I don’t want to die, I just needed something else to focus on.” you mumbled, curling into him as you tried to hide away. 

David’s arms tightened around you. He knew you struggled with self harm and had been doing better with it but it wasn’t an overnight battle and he knew that. He made sure not to rub against your upper thighs as he knew that's where you typically did it. Your sobs had turned to sniffles by now and David could feel how tired you were. Your tense muscles finally unwinding in his grasp. “Hey,” he said, turning your cheek to face him and caressing it as he spoke. “Why don’t we have a shower then we can order some take out, whatever you want. And I have a little surprise for you,”

You quirked your eyebrow at him, not having a clue what it could be.

“I have a copy of Terrifer 3, Damien and I are the only ones with copies. Very hush hush.” he said, making you giggle. Finally, a sweet sound escaping you that he had missed so dearly. “Does all of that sound like an acceptable plan?” he asked with a smirk. 

“Quite satisfactory.” you said, smiling at him before finally indulging in a kiss that you both had longed for. You shifted in his lap, moving your legs to straddle him so the both of you were more comfortable. However, as you felt David’s strong hands caress over your hips and up to your sides you felt a heat take over you that you had craved while he was away. Only he could make you feel like this. “Here, bed, or shower?” you breathed against his lips.

“Shower.” he said gruffly before you bolted for the bathroom, shrieking with excitement as he chased you. Everything was always better when he was with you, he just had that effect. And you want to relish in it as long as you can. 

-------------------------------

Naboo's Note:

BACK FROM THE DEAD!!!!! I hope you all enjoy this one, have a good day my precious babies. Life is still fucking me with no lube so posting might be a little irregular as I am starting my new job on Monday. Thank you all for the support and patience. XOXOXOX!!!!!!

[artsy-hobbitses]

Do you perhaps have any headcanons on the miscreant Starscream??

DO I EVER.

I'm gonna assume you're new here or at least have not seen all headcanons, so I'll collated into one document. RIP you're getting sandblasted with a horrible sky gremlin who has hidden heart of a hero (DON'T LET THEM HEAR YOU SAY THAT, HE HAS STREET CRED TO MAINTAIN).

Starscream/Stefan Scavarro got his codename from the shriek that his suit's engines made when he would divebomb opponents from the heavens. Combined with them seeing literal stars when he blindsided them and how much of a 'sky devil' he was with his red armor, a terrified senate guard described him as the rebellion's "(Azrael) Morningstar, screaming bloody vengeance as he swoops down from the heavens to hunt the wicked". Hence, 'Starscream' was born.

He wears his hair long to cover the Cold Construct barcode on the nape of his neck. Touch him there without his permission, and he will break your fingers.

He's the best cook on the team, and he'll say it's because he's rather eat barb wire (the taste of his blood would at least add some flavour) than be subjected to the military slop he lived with for twenty years. It's never too late to learn how to how to cook and eat well, though if you substitute fresh garlic for powdered garlic in something you're serving him, he's going to fight you across the dining room table after he's done eating it. Food should be respected, even if they were the product of a culinary crime.

He learned to tailor his own clothes during his college days, and has since become very proficient at it. He make most of his formal garments, and is considered the most fashion-centric member of the team.

He was very close to Senator Shockwave/Sharifuddin Waseem as a young politician, to the point of having an unrequited crush. Sharif accepted him as a part of the senate despite his status as a (freed) Cold Construct driving others away from him, and both spent most of their time together in the senate researching and drafting bills pushing for more rights and protections for the Manual Class and Cold Constructs

He has a personal dislike of Optimus Prime/Omar Parvez, and blames Omar for what happened to Sharif, as Sharif surrendered to Proteus on Omar's watch. He had earlier requested that Omar not leave Sharif's side before their mission began and he was assigned to another post, because he had a bad feeling about Proteus' plans for Sharif, and accused Omar of being too spineless to stop it. That Omar had to choose between saving Sharif or the men Sharif told him to keep safe was something he refused to consider. However, in time they do come to an understanding when he accepts that Omar was given a impossible choice and made the one that respected Sharif's last request and sacrifice.

While he can't bring himself to keep pets (he doesn't want to get attached amid a war), he does have a fondness for cats! He admires their beauty, grace, independence and low tolerance for bullshit. He eventually adopts an old and ornery female cat named Graymalkin post-war to keep him company while Windblade/Wariko Baisho is out at work

Stefan has a ridiculously high pain tolerance due to the abuse he was put through from childhood at the air base he grew up in. His eardrums have ruptured more times than he can recall from flight test chambers and high altitude barotrauma, and if he didn't stop crying, his handlers would give him something to really cry about before they dragged him off to the medics. He has an accelerated healing factor, they saw no issue with letting out their frustrations on him, as he was simply an asset in their eyes, even as a seven-year-old.

As such, he has very warped idea of what constitutes a 'major' injury on him---he can be running around cradling his disemboweled intestines in one arm without breaking a sweat. He offhandedly tells people that an injury doesn't register as 'major' to him unless it's a skull fracture where he can feel a section of his head caved in, or a direct shot to the heart.

Because of this, he also has a very skewed idea of what 'hurt' means to him personally and how he's meant to react to it. He's internalised his handlers' assertion that because he can heal, his pain does not matter. So what if people hurt him? It's what he was built to withstand. There is a weird sense of pride he has about this, he sees it as a mark of strength, and it's partly why he's as defiantly blasé as he is about Megatron's abuse when they get in each other's faces. At the same time, it's also deeply lonely for him and he oscillates wildly between shying away from physical contact and being starved for 'good' touch at the same time.

To add to this, while he grows to harbour unspoken attraction towards Wariko which he attempted to throttle multiple times in their early says interacting with each other, he stops icing her out when she becomes the first person to acknowledge his pain, and that him being able to heal and bearing no scars from his abuse doesn't make that pain any less real. She's also his first experience with 'good' touch, which he quickly finds he cannot get enough of.

He adores musicals. In particular are The Greatest Showman, Moulin Rouge and The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

When he and Morgan are in one of their more civil moods, they play chess together in a weirdly companionable silence, as despite their mutual disdain, they understand each other the most. They're equally matched, and it's the only time where Morgan will sincerely compliment him about something, and he'd accept it without sneering or boasting. (He used to play with Sharif, who doesn't do so now as Shockwave, while Morgan used to play with Omar, so it also feels like a moment of bonding over shared loss)

He's an excellent dancer! Mostly ballroom-based which he picked up during his days as a young politician for big senate events, but he enjoys mixing things up a bit with tango or freestyle.

Has mastered walking in high heels.

He alternates between having a soft spot for Thundercracker/Teo Cortez, who he sometimes sees as a younger brother, and calling Teo out as being the 'weak link' of the Trine. He can one day be planning a heartfelt birthday party and baking a cake for Teo since Teo can no longer celebrate it with family, and the next day be screaming at Teo for messing up at target practice. He justifies this hot and cold by saying that someone like Teo isn't made for war, but since Teo insists on being here, he would rather have Teo sad or angry at him for being harsh over the work they have to do, than to have Teo dead from softness and carelessness. He was genuinely relieved when Teo finally left the Decepticons, and they do reconcile post-war.

Openly calls Tarn out for being a fanboy simp in bad Decepticon cosplay.

He never really takes Bumblebee/Benjamin Bane seriously as a fellow combatant and is constantly breaking into Omar's comm signal on the field to yell at Omar to send "your son" back home, this is NO PLACE for a child playing DRESS-UP. (Ben's "I'M 18 YOU POMPOUS PRAT" is immediately met with Stefan's "DON'T YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT, STOP KICKING ME IS PRIME RAISING YOU IN A BARN")

That said, despite being on opposite sides of the fence, when Ben becomes a discorporated soul, he is drawn to Stefan, who can hear him because it is Stefan, rather than Omar or even Memo and Charlie, who unknowingly first truly heard him. This goes back to when Ben was nine, and had a chance to visit the Quintesson War Museum on his birthday; his father and mother however, had no interest in exploring the exhibits with him and left him to do so on alone. On a whim, he asked a passing man, a young politician Stefan who was visiting before a conference, to help him take a picture. Stefan wanted this to be a one and done, but after asking Ben about his parents and finding out they left him to celebrate his birthday alone, he decided to chaperone Ben through the entire time that Ben was there and listened to this boy talk about everything under the sun. He didn't put much thought into this after he left, it was just a few hours of making a child happy/feel less lonely on on their birthday (he's never celebrated one! what a novelty that is), he didn't even have the presence of mind to ask for the boy's name since he himself was not given one until he was 18, but Ben never forgot.

As vain as he is, Stefan hates seeing old pictures of himself, especially those taken of him during his old senate days. He hates the boyish way he used to smile, he hates the hopeful light in his eyes, he hates coming to terms with the part of himself he felt he had sacrificed to hate over humanity on the day they razed the Senate… and how he barely recognizes the man he used to be. Wariko eventually makes him see the truth; that the man he was is the man he still is deep down.

He loves collecting plane models. He does not love putting them together, however, and it's a task he often bribes Skywarp into with offerings of muttabaq fresh off the gridle.

Sharif's old nickname for him is "Pretty Bird", Wariko calls him "Uguisu" (Japanese Bush Warbler).

Extremely protective of his armored flight suit. It was a prototype made by Sharif years ago for him--it was his first taste of flying without a helmet or within a cockpit, and he's never been able to forget that feeling. He also sees it as the last gift Sharif ever gave him before becoming 'Shockwave'. He refuses to let Morgan touch it, and the one time he did approach Shockwave to make some amendments, Shockwave told him to rubbish it for a better upgrade. He declined, and has since learned how to fix and programme the suit on his own. He won't admit it, but it feels like keeping the last physical bit of Sharif's memory alive.

Deeply in love with sky and flying in general; he embraces it as the most free he ever feels. He's up early for morning flights to catch the sunrise, and when he feels like he needs to get away from it all, he flies up high enough that ice gnaws at his face and he can't breath before freefalling through the clouds. It helps him gain a sense of perspective.

Stefan and Wariko do eventually get married, and he settles into a Way Of The Househusband role to her Lady First Delegate. They end up adopting two Cold Construct kids, Suzume and Gabriele.

If you'd like more Winblade/Starscream headcanons (because they are my power couple!), you can find them here and here!

[bella-rose29]

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 7

the mistletoe scene I have to give credit to the lovely @novelizt because of this post

this is basically just 3.5k words of fluff to make up for all the pain I put you through the last two parts

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: swearing, making out (it's happening people, but also it's mildly in detail so for the one tiny paragraph feel free to skip if you're either not comfortable with it or not old enough), Will asks the important questions (both sensible and not), brief mentions of self-esteem issues? lockwood is a bit silly at the end, actually they both are

series master list

(why does he look like this :3 😭)

"What?" Y/n breathed. She wasn't entirely sure that she'd heard Lockwood correctly.

"I said that I think I've fallen for you."

He looked so sincere, his eyes more vulnerable than she had ever seen them before, and Y/n felt her heart constrict in her chest.

"You..."

"I know, I know." He rubbed his hand over his face, turning to lean back against the window. The mistletoe still hung at his side in his other hand.

"But you were horrible to me! From the very start!"

"I know. I was awful to you that first night and my only excuse is that I was exhausted and in desperate need of my bed, which I know isn't good enough. And then when you came in for your interview I just didn't want to be the one responsible if anything happened to you - wait, that came out wrong. You walked into the doorframe, Y/n. I was worried that you'd hurt yourself on a job, and I didn't want to get too attached to you in case that happened and you got injured or hospitalised or worse and I couldn't do anything to stop it. When I saw how easily the others took to you I knew that I was doomed," he let out a laugh, shaking his head. Y/n hoped he realised how ridiculous he sounded. "I know that doesn't excuse my actions, Y/n, but I meant what I said about that job we took in March. I really thought I wouldn't get there in time and I was terrified."

"Lockwood... you can't just... say that! I mean, you have said some genuinely horrible things to me and now you're saying that you - you what? That you-"

"I don't know!" he cried, filled with exasperation. "Alright? I don't know how else to describe it! I don't know if how I feel is love because I've never felt like this before, but I do know that I care about you far more than I should given I'm your boss, and I really don't know what would happen to me if you got seriously hurt, alright?" He was out of breath, cheeks flushed as he looked at her, and Y/n felt her own face heating up at his admission.

"Okay, okay," she said quietly, still processing everything he'd said. They stayed there for a few minutes, both leaning back against the windows as they tried to figure out what the hell they were going to do now. "I don't..." Y/n broke off with a sigh. She needed to phrase this right or they would be in even deeper shit than they were before. "I don't think I can just... forgive you, Lockwood. You have a lot - and I mean a lot - of grovelling to do to make up for how you've treated me these last few years." He nodded frantically, hope starting to shine in his eyes.

"Anything," he said. "Anything at all." She knew that he meant it.

"And I want to go on more cases if I'm staying at the company, because you can't just keep me behind because you think I'll walk into a doorframe."

"Done." He paused for a moment, looking like he wanted to say something else. "But you have-"

"Nope! No protests, thank you!" He stopped talking immediately, looking rather like a lost puppy as he gazed at her. "No more hating each other, either, although I feel like that's a given. And the first date had better be fucking incredible, alright?"

"... First... date?"

"Yeah, keep up, Schmoopie." She couldn't deny how her heart lifted at the sight of Lockwood looking so happy, and when he grinned her responding smile was involuntary.

"Wait... so do you... you know. How do you feel, about..." he waved his hands vaguely in the air, then accidentally hit himself in the face with the mistletoe. "Shit, I think that went in my eye. I forgot I was holding that," he grumbled, and Y/n didn't bother biting back her snort. He sent her a glare, but there was only amusement behind it.

"I don't really know, Lockwood."

"Anthony."

"What?"

"If we're going to start dating I'd much rather you called me Anthony." He blushed and went quiet as he looked out the window. "I like it better when you call me Anthony anyway. Sorry, I uh, I interrupted you."

"Oh, no, that's... that's alright. Uh... yeah. Like you said, I don't know how to describe it. I know that it really hurt me when you said that you wouldn't ever feel the same way, and I guess I just didn't want to admit to myself that I care about you a lot too because you were such a huge arsehole to me-"

"Yes, got it, sorry again."

"-but I do care about you, Anthony. A lot. And honestly that does annoy me because I'm pretty sure I've liked you since we met because I did think you were really gorgeous, except then you were really rude and-"

"Wait wait wait wait wait," he exclaimed, waving his hands in front of him. "You think that I'm gorgeous?"

Now it was Y/n's turn to feel her face heat up, and she swatted at his hands. "I did, yeah. Then you opened your mouth."

"Oh."

"Yeah." She waited a moment, then spoke again. "If you must know, I still think you're gorgeous," she muttered, and Anthony lit up, a smug smile landing on his face. Surprisingly she'd missed them, and while she still felt the burning flames in her body at the sight of that stupid smirk, it was no longer hatred.

He stepped forward a little (only a little, since they were back to being incredibly close to each other) and held the mistletoe in both of his hands. "Your grandma Jean gave it to me," he said. "She told me we might need it because it used to be a symbol of peace, and if people met under it they had to stop fighting." They both had been looking down at the plant, but when Anthony lifted his head so did she, and her breath caught in her throat at the look in his eyes.

"So you want to kiss me again?"

"I mean, I wouldn't be entirely opposed to that, if you're offering."

"Really? Really, Anthony?" Her tone was joking, but she felt him move back almost imperceptibly when she didn't immediately agree to it, and her heart skipped a beat when she realised he was waiting for her permission.

"Well I can't kiss you if we aren't under it, can I? So I don't know what you're so worried about, darling."

"Better try and catch me then if you want a kiss," she teased, and leapt away a second later.

"We're running now? When we've just had a huge meal?" He stepped forward anyway, and Y/n laughed with pure joy when he started chasing her around the room, attempting to catch her but just missing every time. Finally she tripped, catching her foot on the corner of the bed, and Anthony swept her into his arms to stop her from hitting the floor. Instead they hit the mattress, Y/n landing on her back and Anthony on top of her, his arms bracing his body while he still clutched the mistletoe in his left hand. They were both breathing heavily from the last five minutes of running and laughing, and now their faces were so close together that they were essentially kissing already.

Anthony held up the mistletoe over their heads the best he could while simultaneously not collapsing on Y/n, and he raised his eyebrows at her. "May I kiss you, darling?" She couldn't speak, so she nodded instead, and within a second his mouth was on hers, somehow better than it had been the first time. It was tentative and small, and he pulled back to flick his gaze between her eyes and her lips. It had left her breathless despite how short it had been, and before she could think they were crashing into each other with the same passion as they had the night before, her hands lifting to grab his hoodie and his hair in desperation. At some point Anthony dropped the mistletoe to move his hand to her waist and bring her closer to him.

There was nothing but him, nothing but the weight of his body on top of hers and his hands touching her and his tongue in her mouth, and then he was pulling back for air and she was chasing after his lips, and he was smiling down at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

For whatever reason, they started laughing, Anthony dropping his head to nestle in the crook of her neck while Y/n wrapped her arms around his torso to bring him impossibly closer.

"So... does this mean I can call you my girlfriend?" he asked, hope making him light up like the Christmas tree they had in the living room.

"Yes, Anthony, you can call me your girlfriend," she laughed, and it turned into a snort when he got up and did a celebratory dance. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Oh, believe me darling, I am fully aware."

~~~

"Hey, Squeak. You alright?"

Y/n had been sitting in the library, staring out the window at the snow that had started falling while she tried to concentrate on the book in her hands. Anthony had been called into the living room by her parents, and they'd parted with a not-so-small kiss just out of view of her family. Will had apparently managed to find her, and was settling into the opposite side of the window seat that she was occupying. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno. You seemed a bit... off. At dinner. Is everything alright with you and Lover Boy?"

"Oh," her face burned at the memory of what had happened barely twenty minutes ago. "Yeah, we're all good." She awkwardly sent him a thumbs up, her smile more of a grimace than anything else, and Will looked unconvinced.

"What's really going on, Y/n/n? Because if I need to beat him up-"

"NO! No, don't... don't beat up my boyfriend, please." It felt weird calling Anthony her boyfriend now, despite it being more real than it ever had been before. "Really, we're fine."

"Fine? You're fine? What did you two talk about upstairs? Because I'm pretty sure I heard shouting."

"We were just..." At the look on her brother's face she trailed off, and glanced at the door to make sure it was closed. "What exactly did Mum say when she got off the phone with me a few days ago?"

"What do you mean?"

"When she told people that I had a boyfriend, what did she say? How did you find out?"

"Mum went into the kitchen to take your call because we were all in here playing board games, and then we heard her shout 'You have a boyfriend?!' and Linda went to investigate, and then you turned up with Lover Boy."

"And are you sure that Mum wasn't just... making it up for some reason?"

"Why would she make it up?"

"Because I didn't have a boyfriend, Will."

"But... if you don't have a boyfriend then why the hell are you making out with your boss?"

"We are not making out!"

"Sure. But when you kissed yesterday under that mistletoe," he pointed to where it hung over the library door, "I definitely saw tongue."

"WILL!" She picked up the nearest pillow and chucked it at his head, then hid her face behind her book. "Oh my god, this is not happening."

"Ok, but that still doesn't answer my question," he said after half-heartedly throwing the pillow back at her. "If you didn't have a boyfriend, then why is your boss here saying that you're dating?"

"Because I made him. We actually can't stand each other. Or, we couldn't. We made up. Ugh, this is complicated. We have hated each other for about three years and then when Mum said very loudly that I was bringing my boyfriend to Christmas in front of Linda I didn't have much of a choice but to bring someone or face utter humiliation. Apparently nobody wanted to go to the middle of the countryside for three days with a complete stranger and pretend to be her boyfriend so I had to ask Anthony because George was already busy, and honestly I think we did a pretty good job of hiding the fact that we hated each other."

"And the shouting was you making up? Or were you angrily making out?"

"Will! Fuck's sake! Making up. I did tell him he's got a lot of grovelling to do, but now we're actually together."

"So you did make out."

"What's with the weird obsession about whether or not I'm making out with him?"

"I just like making you uncomfortable. That's my job."

"Well quit your job and get a different one." They sat in silence for a while, just staring out the window at the dark landscape. Although she knew that Will couldn't see them, she still pointed out the few ghostly figures that she saw. Her Sight wasn't nearly as good as Anthony's when she wasn't using her Touch, but she could still make out the glowing shapes in the fields.

"While we're on the topic of jobs... I'm guessing you're not leaving the company anymore," he said after a while.

"What?" she asked, startled by his words. "What do you mean?"

"I heard you at dinner, Squeak. You said you were gonna leave the company. I didn't hear anything else 'cause Nanna Jean was talking to me about her garden again for like, the eighth time today, but when I heard you say that... I dunno. You love your job, and I didn't think there was anything that would make you leave it."

"I wouldn't have stopped being an agent, I would have just moved company. He said a lot of mean things, and in fairness I said some horrible shit too, but he's not got that much power over me."

"Squeak... are you sure you wanna be dating him? If he hurt you so bad that you wanted to leave the company then I don't know if it's the best idea," Will frowned, concern in every inch of his body.

"I know. If he fucks this up then I am leaving. Properly. Because I know that it's not... ugh, I don't know. I was just tired of not being treated in the same way that he treated the others, and he's explained why he was like that, and he was weirdly similar to a puppy when he apologised - not that that convinced me to date him, by the way - and I really hurt him too, over the years."

"Just... out of interest... what exactly did you say to each other that made you start hating each other this much?"

"I was walking back from a solo case, walked into him, apologised, stepped on his shoes, and he told me that he'd just bought them in the most stuck-up voice I had ever heard and it pissed me off." Will stared at her.

"That's... it?"

"To be fair I then went for an interview at his company, didn't realise it was him, and the moment I walked in he went 'we don't want agents like you' or something, so... you know!"

"Okay... that's still not a lot though. You really started what, three years of hatred based on... on that?"

"Well, when you put it that way it sounds stupid, but-"

"No, no 'buts', missy," Will said, waggon his finger at her. "It is just plain stupid. Did you actually hurt each other or were you too busy being idiots?"

"In fairness I really struggle with keeping up to other peoples' standards, alright?! And it did hurt that nothing I did ever seemed to be enough to make him like me!"

"With the way he was talking about you, he definitely likes you. And thinks you're good enough. You have nothing to worry about there, that's for sure." Y/n flushed at Will's words, thinking back to what she'd overheard Anthony say in this same room the day before.

"So explain to me your feelings on this? Because I feel like you went through every emotion known to man just now."

"I initially thought you two were great together because you're a lot more confident in yourself when he's around, then you told me you weren't together and I was incredibly confused, then you told me that you hated each other and I was even more confused, then you told me that you are actually together now and I was happy, and then you told me that he was horrible to you and I wanted to beat him up, and then you told me that you stepped on his shoes and that's why you hate each other and I was confused again. Make sense?"

"Just about. It wasn't just me stepping on his shoes that-"

"Nope!" Will turned his head away, lifting his hand out in front of him to stop her. "I don't want to hear anymore of this silliness, thank you very much!"

"But it-"

"Nope!" Will pushed forward, grabbing the pillow that he had earlier thrown back to Y/n and whacked her around the head with it. "Nope, nope, nope!" Each 'nope' was punctuated with another hit, and Y/n barely had time to pick up the other pillow and fight back before he was swinging again.

~~~

"Hey," Y/n whispered to Anthony as she came over. He had been sat in the loveseat again (he was almost completely certain that Y/n's family were leaving it specifically for the two of them to use, since her five siblings were squished up on one of the sofas most of the time), and he put down his mug of tea to help her sit comfortably.

"Hi," he whispered back, immediately wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back to curl into him. She brought her legs up to hook over his and was turned sideways in the seat, her head nestling into his shoulder. He picked up his tea again and was about to take a sip when Will burst into the living room, board game in hand and a slightly crazed look in his eyes.

"We're playing Yahtzee! Everybody take a sheet, you don't have a choice in this!"

"Is this the one you're terrible at?" Anthony asked, speaking quietly into Y/n's ear, and he chuckled when she slapped his arm.

"You can't be terrible at Yahtzee, Anthony, it's a fucking dice game. It's based on luck, idiot."

"Oh, right, silly me. I meant charades. That one you are truly awful at."

"Just because you get really into it and put on ridiculously large hats doesn't mean I'm awful at it," she responded indignantly. "Also, by the way, the use of props is against the rules of charades, so technically you've lost every single one you've done."

"I have not!" he jokingly started, putting on an accent and pretending to be mad. "I am the best at charades! How dare you accuse me of- mmph!" Y/n shut him up by pressing a kiss to his lips, and while he sat there for a moment with his eyes wide open and his posture incredibly tense, he quickly relaxed into it. He still wasn't used to kissing her, and he didn't think that he ever would be, and when she pulled away a few seconds later he was left to chase after her mouth while she giggled.

"Sure, whatever makes you happy, Ant." That was another thing he'd never get used to. The way she said his name. He didn't think he'd heard anything sweeter, and then she was laughing at something one of her family members had said and he realised that he would spend his whole life documenting which of all the things she did was the most heavenly.

"You're what makes me happy, darling," he mumbled, not expecting her to hear. She looked round at him, surprise on her face. He thought she might say something nice in response, but instead when she opened her mouth something else came out.

"You are so cheesy, Anthony Lockwood."

"I'm just getting started, darling. Like you said, I have a lot of grovelling to do. I hope you're ready for how cheesy I can be." Y/n wrinkled her nose in disgust, but the wide grin on her face gave her away.

"That sounded weird," she said, and he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to her nose. He shrugged in response.

"You're just going to have to get used to it, I'm afraid."

"Good. Hopefully you'll finish all the grovelling needed by the time you're about thirty, then."

"I'm grovelling every second of every day if it means I get to keep you near me, darling," he replied, and he revelled in the flush that crept up her neck. He accepted his score sheet from Will (who was getting very serious about the game, making sure that nobody would be cheating by using loaded dice), and took a sip of tea.

Then he nearly spat it out when he fully registered what Y/n had said.

"Thirty?!"

part 8

Tag list (once more hoping that this is everyone): @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12

let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the tag list! <3

[metalomagnetic]

The 27th chapter is AMAZING we got so much kid content I’m crying. But after reading it I became kinda curious about what Astrid really thinks of the marriage. She is obviously happy and very proud about how her life turned out, but what does she think about the first years of the marriage? The first time she had met Sirius in the story he was in his best mental state, the happiest place, just chilling and vibing, but when she got to marry him he was out of azkaban, heavily medicated and overall concerned about anything but reality. What was she even expecting? Sorry for bothering, but thank you for answering if you do. And obviously a huge Thank You for the chapter, it was breathtaking.

Astrid was warned that Sirius was just out of Azkaban, but Narcissa hid the extent of the damage (besides, back then Narcissa had no way of knowing exactly how damaged Sirius was and it wasn't going to be an easy recovery) and Thor didn't have access to much information about post Azkaban Sirius, since it's only been three months and Sirius wasn't going out in public where someone could spot him. He did hear about the stunt he pulled at the Ministry with Bella, and he judged by that that Sirius mustn't have been damaged by Azkaban too much, if he had the clarity of mind to pull it off. Again, Thor also had no way of knowing that Azkaban was the last of Sirius' issues, had no way of knowing how destroyed he was because he lost his bff and lover.

Otherwise, yes, Astrid was a bit taken aback to see 3 months post Azkaban Sirius compared to what she remembered of him.

I think she was a bit afraid of him in the beginning, then slowly relaxed as she noticed he wasn't a danger to her; however she remained nervous, because she had though she'll be ok because she will manage to charm Sirius' pants off, but she didn't know what to do with a Sirius that had no interest in her whatsoever.

And then they went to Black Manor, Sirius was off the potions and seemed better, they had Orion, and she was actually beginning to think maybe she can have a happy life with him.

But then we know what happened. The ring took over. I think she was genuinely terrified during that time, secluded and trapped with a toddler and a newborn baby, AND PREGNANT, far away in the countryside, with a Sirius that was getting weirder and weirder by the day. She tried writing to her father about it when she just couldn't take it mentally anymore, when she'd catch glimpses of Sirius and see the horrors in his eyes, and how he seemed not to care even about Orion, or that she was pregnant, or anything at all.

Sirius doesn't remember this, but Tom didn't allow the letters to go through; he didn't want any northerner to come to the Manor, after all.

So when Astrid saw that no one was responding to her letters, she realised Sirius must stop them, and you can imagine the abject terror. 'Thankfully' that was just in the last month or so, the very worst of it, and then Sirius took the ring off.

Astrid woke up with Bellatrix inside the house, and she actually asked Bella for help, the very next day after we saw Bella arrive at the Manor.

But it was also Bella's first day without potions, and besides, she didn't care about Astrid at all, but she told Astrid that things will be better, but no, she better not write to her parents about anything that just happened.

Astrid only calmed down when they got back to Grimmauld and she had access to people again; she was even happy to see Walburga once more.

And she did not complain to her father, especially as Sirius was visibly getting better.

However, it took her a long, long time to trust Sirius again after that, and she kept waiting for him to reverse to that awful state, but eventually she understood it won't happen again, and allowed herself to move past it.

After that, she is happy with the marriage, with the way Sirius treats her and the children. I think her only complaint (not that she'd ever say it) is that Sirius lets his mother and Bella get away with absolutely everything, but that's not a major issue for Astrid, and she has her own ways of bypassing Walburga and Bella, without Sirius needing to get involved.

By current timeline in the story, she is content with her marriage, doesn't regret it, and has long settled into Britain and the Black family. She made genuine friendships there, Narcissa being the most important, and she has grown to love Sirius, just as Sirius loves her. She definitely enjoys his company, and sees him as an ally in everything (expect in matters that concern Bella and Walburga).

If you'd make her go back in time, she'd still choose to marry Sirius, without any hesitation.

[rapidwaterzzz]

CURSE OF ABILITIES AU: 1

Adjusting

Everyone was adjusting differently to lives after the battle they had a week prior, against the empires kids. Some tried their best to stay in high hopes, but the amount of issues to come out of it threw a layer of stress on everything.

Tango laid in his bed, just waking up, in his house he had been in for years. He scoffed to himself, surprised he hadn’t burned the place down like everything else he happened to like. He sighed and arose from his bed, trudging toward his window to look out. A lot of other hermits houses were now decorated with ashes and burnt siding. His stomach dropped, how could he be this stupid?

He was on his hands and knees, breathing faster than he could process. What the fuck was happening, it was hot, he was sweating. His mouth was really dry. He saw flames, he saw people panicking throughout the flames.

oh shit

did he do that.

He couldn’t move. he had to watch in horror of what might be his fault. He was unbelievably sore, from what?

“Tango! Are you okay dude?.. I FOUND HIM” who was that? They did a quick glance of tango, the latter scanning the man in front of him. why couldn’t he make out his name. Tango tried so hard to get up, he really did, he had to help with…

with… whatever was happening

“Top! slow down! You’re going to hurt yourself worse! I gotcha bud..”

Hurt himself worse? before he could look for an injury, he was on his feet. His legs weren’t working, god damnit, why wasn’t anything right.

“Top, you with me?” His assist asked, throwing tangos arm over his own.

“mmmyeaa…” Tango slurred out, atleast he thinks he did.

Tango couldn’t remember past that. He couldn’t remember who even helped him. If he was just careful with his fire for once this wouldn’t happen. He looked at the gauze and bandaged wrapped around his arm from his wrist to his mid upper arm. He didn’t know what was under it but he was scared to remove it. It hurts, but it was tolerable . He closed his curtains and sighed, putting his head in his hands. He was gonna get kicked out of the hermits, what was he gonna do. As if planned, he heard a knock at the door

Yea this was it, he should kiss his house goodbye. He held his head down in defeat and walked downstairs to his front door, wincing while opening it. He was met with Impulse and Skizz at his door, sending two of his best friends to send him off? Cruel.

“You’re alive thank god” Impulse hugged the shorter, quickly followed by Skizz.

What?

“What do you mean thank god I’m alive? Im fine!” Tango reassured them. They both looked at him as if he had two heads.

“Top, buddy, when was the last time you talked to anyone?” Skizz let himself in the house followed by impulse, the three walking themselves to the couch, sitting down.

“Oh uh….. hm……” Tango thought really hard, when was the last time he talked to anyone? He woke up in his room, waiting for, why wasn’t he in the infirmary, usually X forced them in there? HM, weird.

“Tango, what do you remember?” Impulse questioned. No one told Tango he was having a suprise therapy session, boo.

“The whole fire thing, someone carried me off i guess?” Tango responded, messing with the bandages on his arm, his hand quickly getting swatted by Impulse.

“Okay. I think we’re taking a trip to the infirmary. “ Skizz nodded in agreement, what was so wrong? Tango was terrified, how bad did he mess up.

Tango was now sat on a medical bench in what resembled a doctor’s office, Skizz sitting in a chair off to the side, apparently Impulse was Joels temporary babysitter. They did remind him of parents, so it was fitting. Cub was washing his hands on the other side of the room, quickly drying them and turning back to Tango.

“So I want to check the laceration first, and then we’ll deal with the head problems.” Cub said to Skizz.

“Im still here y’know, you could tell me!” Tango scoffed, leaning back and giving his arm to Cub. Cub quickly removed the dressing, revealing a long gash with stitches in it, it was gross. Cub cleaned up around the cut with a saline solution.

“So i’m gonna leave the stitches in another week to be safe, it was a pretty brutal cut, how did it even happen?” Cub asked Tango this time, putting a new dressing on. Tango thought back, maybe these are the head issues he was talking about.

“Smajor used his ice to knock a piece of loose wood off a house like a jerkface! It sliced his arm, im not sure if it hit his head..” Skizz responded. Tango stared into space.

When could that have possibly happened, was that why he was on the ground. Why were there so many blanks in his story?

“Ah, okay.” Tango was then put to torture of testing his mental state. He wanted to set himself on fire the whole time, thats all he understood. Cub ruled that Tango had a mild concussion of sorts, and that the dehydration from overdoing his fire had some effect on him, and now he had to stay with Skizz for a while for some other reason Cub wouldn’t tell him. How awesome. He didn’t care about staying with Skizz, but god if he didn’t feel like a child before, he did now. He loved his life!

“Oh princess! Where are you” Xb giggled when he heard that familiar swedish voice. He looked back from his place on the shore of the lake, and waved Keralis over. Keralis skipped over, and sat down in the sand next to Xb. Xb looked at the taller, trying his best to make eye contact through the blindfold Keralis had. Xb didn’t understand how he could possibly see with it on, but Keralis assured him he could.

“Oh sweet-face, you look rough” Keralis deadpanned spoke, cupping Xb’s cheek. Oh yea, black eye.

“ Well thats rude, you’re not looking much better!” Xb rebuttled, playfully hitting the other.

“When I get my hands on that guy, ooh i swear he will pay!” Keralis growled, Xb finding it hard to take him seriously. Xb looked at the bruises and minor cuts all over Keralis, still feeling upset but knowing it could’ve been so much worse, so he knew he could be more grateful.

“Its really not that bad, could’ve been worse” Xb shrugged, he got off easy with a black eye and a maybe broken nose and a maybe sprained wrist, he would live.

Xb tried to shake himself out of the daze he was in. Fwhip just rocked his shit, and now he was on the ground. His nose was bleeding, and his eye hurt like hell. It was whatever, the empires people looked like they were evacuating, so he should go start helping out he figured.

“Sweetface, oh my god! Are you okay?! Who did this?!” Keralis ran up to Xb, at some point he must’ve put his blindfold back on. Keralis cupped Xb’s face in his hand, he did that a-lot to anyone he cared about. Keralis wiped the blood dripping from Xb’s nose, and then looked around.

“We’re going to the doctor place, i’m getting you ice for that” Keralis grabbed Xb’s wrist, Xb wincing, and they ran off to the infirmary.

At the infirmary, Keralis pushed Xb into a chair, and went a grabbed an icepack and a tissue box. The older held the icepack in place, and Xb pinched his nose, dealing with the pain, to slow the bleeding. Xb and Keralis watched almost all of their friends come into the infirmary, some being more severe than others. Xb suggested they should leave to let the others in worse shape have the room, and with the convincing of Keralis that he wasn’t in that bad of shape, they left off to Keralis’s place as a compromise. They sat on Keralis’s bed, Keralis made sure Xb was as comfortable as possible.

“K, are you all good?” Xb sat up from the bed to ask the other. Keralis looked back with an overly offended look.

“You think I would let those weak empirians hurt me? Im hurt princess!” He playfully put his hand against his head, pouting, looking away. Xb laughed, pulling the other onto the bed.

“You promise you’re not hurt?” Xb questioned.

“I promise.” Keralis reassured “Ill message X about you wrist, he might get you a brace or something”

“K i promise its no issue” Xb responded, not wanting to be to much trouble to the older two.

“Xb, you’re hurt, and you don’t want it to get worse. Either way, sweetface deserves the best treatment!” Keralis pulled out his communicator, typing a message to X. Xb sighed and laid back on the bed, very quickly closing his eyes and falling asleep.

“Hello? Earth to XB!” Keralis waved a hand infront of Xb’s face, the younger snapping back into reality and looking at the older.

“Maybe you should get tested for a concussion…” Keralis gained a more serious tone, Xb just brushing it off.

“Im fine! I was just thinking,” Xb started “are you positive you aren’t hurt at all” Xb looked back to Keralis.

“Princess i’m a-okay, i promise” K laughed, Xb smiling in response. They would survive, and thats all Xb needed.

Pearl and Gem sat on the lawn out front of Gems house, simply taking in the breeze. It was something they always did to decompress, whether it was after a battle or any week. The two weren’t in the best shape after the empires battle, but things could be worse right? Pearl had torn her ACL after landing wrong from flying, and had a whole leg brace as a result . Gem just had a decent amount of bruises and scrapes from being stuck doing hand to hand combat.

“Hows the leg” Gem looked over at the brunette, her simply looking back and shrugging.

“Hurts, but whatcha gonna do” Pearl laughed. Pearl was still recovering from the surgery she had to have to repair it. It was scary when it first happened, Pearl was in the worst pain she had ever experiences.

Pearl flew back up into the air, to do some cool landing attack thing-y Gem thought were always cool. Gem made note of her going up, still trying to wrestle Fwhip. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Shubble sent some of vine Pearls way as she went to land, being followed by a yelp, thud, and a scream. Gems heart dropped, but she had a fight to finish, kicking Fwhip in the stomach. As he fell to the ground, Joey Graceffa did a whistle, implying that it was the empirians time to run, which they all quickly did. Gem almost immediately ran over to Pearl who was on the ground, grabbing her knee with tears streaming down her face.

“Pearl your okay! It-Itll be fine! What happened?!” Gem kneeled down next to the older, moving her hands to get a better view of whatever injury had occurred. X had all the hermits learn basic first aid, so she prayed it was something she could help with. There was bruising around the area, and swelling, not a good sign.

“I-It popped! Something tore!” Pearl yelled in desperation, tears flowing faster as she gritted her teeth. Oh god it popped. Gem did a quick scan of the area to get help, Gem might’ve been more panicked than pearl at this point.

“MUMBO HELP” Gem screamed as loud as she could, Mumbo jumped and spun around, immediately running over to the two girls. He immediately kneeled down on the other side of Pearl from Gem. Pearl was hyperventilating at this point, eyes squeezed shut.

“Oh wow, uh okay, what happened?!” Mumbo tried to assess the situation, he now looked panicked himself.

“Something popped in her knee, i-i don’t know what to do!” Gem grabbed Pearls hand, trying every effort to calm her down.

“Oh god, she probably tore a ligament.. we need X” Mumbo pulled out his communicator and called X.

“X we really need your help, Pearl tore something in her knee, and Gem looks like shes about to faint herself” Mumbo frantically said to X. Did she really look that scared, she shouldn’t be the issue here, Pearls hurt! She heard faintly X on the other end, but couldn’t understand what he was saying. A few minutes later X ran over

“Oh my, Mumbo can you carry her we need an MRI.” Mumbo nodded and picked her up, trying not to touch her knee, the four then speed walking to the infirmary, which was luckily near by.

After the MRI, it was confirmed she had torn her ACL, and that X and Cub were gonna do surgery on it. Gem got no warning until she was told Pearl was in surgery. Gem slumped back in the chair she was in, on the verge of tears. Gem heard a room door open, and watched Impulse walk by, take notice of her, and sit down next to her.

“Whats wrong, are you hurt?” Impulse immediately started comforting the tear eyed Gem.

“Pearls hurt, shes in surgery. Everyones hurt. This sucks” Tears rolled down her cheeks before she quickly whipped them. Impulse sadly nodded.

“You should go home and clean up and rest, i’m sure X or Cub will let you know the second Pearl is out, it might be a while.” Gem nodded and got up, Impulse leading the way to her house. Pearl had to be okay.

“Yea, still sucks though, I should’ve focused Shubble instead of Fwhip.” Gem sat up from her laying position, sighing.

“And then have Fwhip kick my ass when i landed and potentially putting us in a worse situation? No thanks, ill live with a torn up leg” Pearl also sat up, patting Gem on the back. Gem chuckled, getting up and turning around to help Pearl up. Pearl got up as best as she could keeping her leg with the brace straight. She caught her balance, and both Gem and Pearl started walking towards there respective houses. They would be okay.

[hyrules-warrior]

There needs to be more fics focusing on Joel’s PTSD and other issues after returning to Jackson.

I mean the guy has finally opened himself up after loosing his daughter. He was having panic attacks in episode 6, had full on dissociative episode with the events at the hospital. This guy has issues and finally being safe with Ellie in Jackson, those will start to come out as he relaxes for the first time in 20 years.

There are pancakes for breakfast at the canteen one morning. Joel gets in two bites before he goes white faced and barely makes it outside and between the buildings before he violently throws up everything he has ever eaten in his life and sits there hyperventilating and shaking until Ellie finds him and he comes back to himself. Sarah and him were supposed to have pancakes for his birthday breakfast that last day......before.......

Ellie has horrible nightmares, but so does Joel. Terrifying dreams of failure, of dying in that basement and leaving Ellie alone, of failing to make it to the surgeon in time to stop the surgery, of letting David......... He wakes up and has to stumble over to Ellie’s room to check on her just as much as she does for him after her dreams. Sometimes he is so shaken he has to wake her to make sure she is okay. But usually he just sees and hears her breathing and that is enough. He will settle in the window seat of her room with a gun and keep watch the rest of the night. Unknown or maybe just not acknowledged by both, Ellie herself sleeps the best the nights when he does this.

He has moments of high anxiety where he just has to lean against something for a few moments and breathe through it to settle his ringing ears and pounding heart. He isn’t even sure of the triggers most of the time, it seems to come out of nowhere. He also has sudden moments where he totally checks out but still functions. He is thrust back into survival mode and usually after has no idea why and barely remembers what happened during it. He closes right off, seems to stare at something far away instead of who is with him, his responses come out in his “asshole voice”, cold and distant. People just think he is grumpy, had a rough night or something but Ellie knows better. If she is there she works to keep people off of him and remove him from the situation in case that has triggered this shut down moment. When Ellie is with him her voice and touch grounds him, is the lifeline he tugs on to swim back to the present. It takes 10 times longer to drag himself back if she isn’t there.

His stab wound was major and the first aid done on it was understandably not the best. It never really heals right and remains sensitive. It pulls uncomfortably sometimes and aches horribly on cold winter days or when the pressure drops before a storm. And the phantom pains....... He wakes some nights from feverish dreams of the basement swearing he has just been stabbed all over again. The pain so fresh and sharp he thinks someone broke in and stabbed him there with a red hot fire poker. The first time it happens the wounded animal noises he lets out unbidden scare Ellie so bad she thinks he is dying and her extreme fear is what brings him back to the present. In the future he tries to hide it, dealing with his pain in silence (or attempted silence). Ellie still seems to know though and will silently come into his room and curl against his side allowing him to slowly settle. Or if the pain comes during the day she will push him into laying on the couch and get out the hot water bottle. Heat and seeing Ellie alive and well seems to soothe the pain, chase the winter away from his memory. 

Just like with Ellie’s trauma, these things begin to fade with time and attentive care from the one he needs most.

[mochacoda]

[teaser] night d(r)ive | yjh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x GN!Reader

Synopsis: As a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think that you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen. (Spoiler: You don't.)

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Friends to Lovers | College AU

Tags: short hair jeonghan, extreme pining, liking ramen as a plot device, crying, being losers for each other, insecure reader, lots of konglish w/ translations, overly indulgent kissing, no "y/n,” this is for everyone who voted jeonghan in the poll <3

Word Count: 5K (full)

Release Date: February 9 -> RELEASED HERE

Masterlist

You‘d like to think that you know Yoon Jeonghan well. Surely, you do! Over the years, you‘ve come across—and committed to memory—dozens, if not hundreds, of his little oddities. You’ve witnessed his personality change with the length of his hair, and learned the hard way that cheating at card games is like second nature to him. At this point, you can recite more information about his pet rock than ramen, which is somewhat terrifying if you dwell on it for too long, considering that ramen is your favorite food. 

But despite his chaotic personality, you also know that he’s incredibly smart, having sat next to him in countless college lectures and trivia events. 

Honestly, it can’t possibly be a stretch to say that you know the man too well, can't it? And at times, it feels a bit unfair that you can only reply, “oh, I know him,” when people fleetingly mention him in conversation. It hurts that you can’t clarify that you know him—that you can’t ramble on about how he made the stupidest joke to make you laugh when you were upset about your most recent midterm, or handmade you the sweetest present for your birthday, or let you choose your favorite film for movie night for the third time in a row—because no one wants to nor needs to hear about it.

But, unfortunately, that’s all you can think about these days. 

Because, unfortunately, Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, and most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. 

Yoon Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. Though he gives into his internal demands for petty possessiveness quite often, he cares deeply for his friends. 

He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his nonchalant but somewhat firm indifference for dating. You’ve witnessed him casually turn down far too many objectively gorgeous and incredibly intelligent people, which has convinced you that his standards are impossibly high. And if you were honest with yourself, based on the people he’d already rejected, it would be laughable for you to even think about confessing to him.

And so, as a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen.

In fact, you’re sure about the ramen issue, because you’re witnessing it happen right now.

You’re staring at his smirking face in the instant food aisle of the convenience store, both of you gripping the last Neoguri cup like it’s a trophy.

“You gotta learn patience,” Jeonghan tuts, his lips upturned infuriatingly at one corner. 

“No, you should learn patience. 손 빼, [Take your hand off,]” you demand, grasping the cup tighter.

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says in a sing-song voice, raising his chin in defiance.

The ramen cup creaks slightly under the pressure of your combined grip, and a terrible thought forms in your head. Your hand is sandwiched between his hand and the cup, making you feel the heat radiating from his body. It’s something you’re afraid you could get used to. 

You narrow your eyes, targeting his ridiculous, perfect lazy smile. “Take it off while I’m being nice.”

“Nah,” he replies immediately, smiling wider, his tongue sliding to the right. 

Your heart lurches at the sight. 

“치사하게 진짜 이럴 거야? [You’re so petty, are you really going to be like this?]” You chew on your bottom lip, eyes flitting between his face and his hand. 

Jeonghan tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes sharp and steady on yours. He’s not really looking at the ramen anymore, and the intensity of his gaze makes your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“내가 여기서 이 옷을 입고 있는데, [I’m wearing these clothes here,]” he says, using his free hand to pinch the fabric of the expensive suit he always wears at his internship. “굳이 라면 하나 때문에 나랑 싸운다고? 그냥 빨리 가자, 음? [You’re really gonna fight with me over just one ramen cup? Let’s just go now, hmm?]”

You press your lips together and jut your chin in defiance. 

He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. His shaggy, dark hair flows with it, and you can’t help but think that he looks princely like this, standing in the middle of this convenience store with his stupidly gorgeous face, and that dumb suit and tie. 

“양보해. [Give it up.] I’ll give you whatever you want,” he says, his voice dipping lower. It feels less like an offer and more like a taunt, a challenge. His tone sends a small shiver through you, and for a second, you’re not sure if he’s teasing or serious.

You have to take a slow, deep breath to calm yourself down before even considering what to say next. You’re grateful for the ride (and his company), of course, but that doesn’t mean he can steal your rightful claim under your nose, in the same casual manner he has when letting one of his fans down. 

You’ve always given into him. Because he means everything to you, of course. 

But you’ve had enough of letting him have his way so easily, not with your precious ramen at risk.

You boldly step closer to him, cutting the distance between the two of you in half. You’re close enough to see your reflection in his eyes, now. 

“I’m not letting go.” You firmly shake your head. You wouldn’t let him win this time. “I don’t want anything but this,” you add, stubbornly.

Tugging hard, you try to pull the cup toward you, but it frustratingly remains stuck on the shelf between the two of you. Looking back up, you see that he isn’t even straining to keep the ramen in place! You frown, wondering when your best friend got so strong.

He leans in just a fraction closer. “Keep trying,” he murmurs, and he’s so close that you can feel his warm breath tickling your face. 

The world narrows to Jeonghan, and the faint scent of the cologne he only wears on weekends. It’s dizzying.

“야아아! [Hey!] I was here first!” you weakly defend, voice embarrassingly squeaky.

And then Jeonghan does something that completely short-circuits your brain.

His free hand lifts and brushes your hair away to your back, before resting on the divot between your neck and collarbone, where his thumb caresses the side of your neck. Feather-light, his touch is gentle, and his fingers are impossibly warm, a stark contrast to this slightly chilly convenience store. You just about choke on your surprise, your heart kicking into overdrive at the sheer intimacy of the gesture. 

God, how is it that you never get a rest day with Jeonghan? How is it that he’s always flirting, always disregarding the boundaries of platonic and romantic love, always making you confused? And how is it that you just let it happen, that you just take whatever affection he gives you? How is it that you’re drawn into his dangerous touch, like a moth to a flame? Except that analogy doesn’t really work, because at least moths don’t know that they’re in danger when they reach fire—you know what you’re getting into, and you know all too well that Jeonghan will never be yours. 

“Please?” he whispers.

Your breath hitches, suddenly aware that even for your overly-touchy friend, this level of skinship is extreme. 

Does he know? Has he found out that you’re in love with him, that you’ve been keeping this ungodly secret from him for far too long? Does he know that every time he lets someone down, that every time he complains to you about people confessing and crying over him, you give him superficial laughs as you swallow your own feelings? 

Does he know that you feel like sinking into the ground every time he entertains a random girl flirting with him, and that every time he crosses boundaries with you, it hammers in the fact that he thinks you’re a joke? 

Does he know that you’ve spent over a year trying to convince yourself that you don’t have feelings for him, only to fail miserably, because there is no such thing as cutting Yoon Jeonghan out of your life, because he makes you feel so, so alive? 

He must know. He must be making fun of you, now.

Your eyes widen, frantically searching his face for an ounce of malice. And you expect to see the look he always has when shredding the hearts of the brave people who confess to him, the face he makes when he casually tells someone that he doesn’t feel the same way. You expect to see an almost-cruel, blank stare paired with apologetic lips pressed together. 

You expect him to crush your heart. 

But instead, he’s staring at you with a gaze so, so, very soft, you wonder if you’ve hallucinated it. Shining eyes, raised eyebrows, mouth parted—he looks devastatingly beautiful.

Masterlist

Author's Note: now RELEASED HERE for all the singles who need a big literary hug this valentines week

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone

[animalsalvationassociation]

A.S.A. Octonauts Headcanons:

Pt. 3 — Kwazii:

What we know . . .

Kwazii’s real last name is Navarro and before he found out (they managed to find his birth certificate lol) he put "Gilbert" on his military ID.

Ofc in the government’s eyes that’s kind of a problem, but through Dashi’s wizardly tech skills, they were able to fix it without any issues. Let’s be honest Kwazii is a special case.

(I didn’t know that Calico Jack was a real person or that CJ was based off of him. I figured it was just the name the creators chose for the character)

Navarro was his father’s surname (oh wowww how convenient and not at all last minute planning to make things fit)

Kwazii’s mother is Calico Jack’s daughter

Kwazii is still trying to figure out what happened to his parents and remaining family as they all disappeared around the time CJ went to the Amazon. (He was an infant at the time)

Kwazii served with Captain Barnacles on “ The Adelaide ”, a navy vessel that they sailed on for 3 years before Kwazii and Barnacles were promoted to Captain of the Octonauts.

Kwazii and Emma have been going steady for a few years now.

Kwazii’s favorite food is his grandfather’s “Pirate Stew” (It’s still a mystery why)

Fav Color is Green~

Kwazii doesn’t actually need the eyepatch (which is hilarious to me).

Boot Biscuits

Cannot surf to save his life. Literally.

Fav Gup?? Do I have to even answer that???

It's the Gup-R . . .

I JOKE!!!! I JOKE!!!!

At least once a week Kwazii locks himself up in his room and dresses up like a certain pirate captain, he then spends several hours role-playing grand adventures while making a mess inside his room. (Yes he has preformed in front of Emma before, she thinks it’s adorable — Sometimes she joins in on the fun 😉 He’s started collecting costumes for her because she enjoys it so much)

Consumes anything with the word “Pirate” in front of it. He’s actually become pretty reliable when it comes to media because he knows so much.

Actually pretty clumsy

Peso: “If you have to go to the Medical Bay ONE MORE TIME—!”

Tominnow and Tunip hang out with him the most. The others pop in every now and then but you’ll at least see Tominnow by his side.

In true Kwazii fashion.

. . . . . . . . . . . . thank you.

(Lol I forgot what I was gonna say but I think we can all agree)

Kwazii has learned to enjoy girls nights. He made the mistake of accidentally walking in on one and has been “dragged” to every girls night ever since. (Blame Tweak and her need for revenge — *cough, cough* Gup B *cough*)

Kwazii has an exceptionally gentle heart, sometimes it’s hard to see it past the . . . ahem . . . “no thoughts only soup” and "impulsiveness" . . . but when it comes down to it he cares so much for other people/creatures that sometimes he gets swept up and actually forgets about himself. I know, shocking. (I blame Barnacles)

Kwazii tries to put up a front but sometimes he lets slip how lonely he actually feels.

He and Barnacles have a very tight knit relationship, but runner up of “Best Friend” is definitely Peso.

(I remembered what I was going to say earlier)

Kwazii loves spooky stories, mostly because it makes other people squirm (aside from Barnacles, that man is a rock). But Kwazii is quite the scaredy cat (pun intended) himself, not just with spiders n’ stuff.

He tends to get so caught up in those stories that he has a hard time sleeping at night, especially because of how dark the ocean gets at night. I mean he’s got a massive window right next to him, I’d be terrified too if something big popped up without warning.

(It helps when Emma comes over for a visit. Their sleep schedules are kind of off depending on the season so sometimes he asks her to keep a watch while he rests. Ofc she’s more than happy to keep watch and “beat up” any monsters that appear.)

Kwazii has a hard time separating reality and his own imagination, he fully believes those monster stories, or at least most of them. Some are a little crazy even for him. But it’s fun to tease Peso.

Kwazii & Emma’s Relationship:

(Optional reading ahead, this is for anyone who’s interested/curious about their relationship)

Like I said, Emma and Kwazii have been going steady for a few years now. They’ve actually done pretty well despite the distance.

Not to mention they’re quite the well balanced couple. Kwazii being the rambunctious “bouncing off the walls” kind of guy, while Emma is pretty chill and level headed. But I’m not saying they don’t have their moments where they completely switch personalities depending on what’s going on.

Gives “Tall Girl, Smol Boy” vibes.

“I have to find my darling husband, I’m so worried about him!”, “Honestly what do you see in that guy?” , “He makes me laugh.” [ Who Framed Rodger Rabbit? 1988 ]

They met around the time Kwazii was appointed to Sergeant of the Adelaide. He was only nineteen at the time while she just turned twenty.

The reason he became Sergeant so quickly was because of a recommendation by Barnacles. And because of that Kwazii ended up advancing much faster than others in their field. I think Barnacles saw something in him that not many other soldiers had at the time. Of course it wasn’t the highest title he could’ve achieved but it was an honor nonetheless, especially because Barnacles insisted on keeping Kwazii close. He was still so young and without anyone to look up to familial-wise, I think Barnacles had a soft spot for him.

Kwazii and Emma really only started dating after the Octonauts were given a second wind, they reconnected through Barnacles and the A.S.A. and just hit it off. They’ve been long distance ever since.

Of course Emma and Kwazii visit each other every now and then, more than most other long distance couples. You can thank Professor Kelp and Barnacles for that.

In a way they’ve become apart of one another’s teams. In the sense that whenever Kwazii visits the S.S.Jade or Emma visits the Octonauts, it’s as if they’re apart of the family.

He won’t admit it because he doesn’t want to freak her out/scare her off, but Kwazii has always wanted to settle down with Emma. Which sounds crazy I know, but stay with me here.

Both of their jobs are very important and equally dangerous, making it hard to keep in contact sometimes. I think Kwazii is afraid that one day he’ll wake up and find out that Emma has gone missing or worse.

Just like Kwazii, Emma is a thrill seeker. Problem is, Emma pushes herself way more than Kwazii ever has or will. She’s very protective of her team and those that are in her care, and she tends to completely override her own needs for other’s.

Every day Emma is at battle with thugs, gangs, and international villains. Putting herself in more danger than is really necessary. And a lot of times she forgets that there’s more to life than putting away the bad guy.

But the way Kwazii thinks of settling down is completely different to how Emma sees it. They’re both travelers by nature and Emma sees settling as a way of tying herself down to one singular place and never moving again. And just the thought of it makes her anxious, so she tends to avoid the conversation whenever Kwazii tries to bring it up.

But Kwazii sees it more as having a place to themselves whenever they need it, going off to do their jobs but being able to come back and live away from everything for a little while before returning to their duties. He doesn’t expect them to ever stay in one place, but he wants to at least have a commitment to where their relationship is headed.

Unfortunately over the last few months Emma has been distancing herself from him. Just like Kwazii she doesn’t want to loose him or see him get hurt, but her version of this is keeping him at arms length, not too far but not close either.

Doesn’t sound the most healthy way to continue a relationship does it? ;)

The Rackham/Navarro Family:

Captain John "Calico Jack" Rackham (Grandfather), Anne Bonny (Grandmother???), Salem Navarro (Father), Madelynn / Maddie Rackham (Mother) Kwazii, Mary Read (Auntie)

Notes:

Keep in mind Kwazii doesn't know anything about his family. All he knows is what CJ has told him, and most of that information is sparse. I don't see myself adding to his lore for a very long time. Not until I know exactly how I want to do it. For now here is all the information you need to know about Kwazii.

Eventually I will create a headcanon for Kwazii's upbringing, but until then please enjoy this iteration.

Other Headcanons . . .

Captain Barnacles ( 1 & 2 / Peso / Dashi / Tweak / Shellington / Inkling / The Vegimals

[ This is a Octonauts AU, in no way is this canon to the OG storyline. ]

[bonny-kookoo]

I have a request for Velvet Heart.

I'd like to know how or why things changed for Jungkook, what happened in the past that brought him so close to madness.

A/N: Obviously warning for Yandere content, psychological horror, mental illness. Don't read if that makes you uncomfortable, I'm not responsible for what you consume.

Jungkook has always been a little.. vulnerable, mentally. He's easily stressed, and stress makes him act irrationally sometimes- but no one ever thought it would become an issue, down the line.

He's just soft. It'll be fine when he grows older.

Wrong. It just got worse.

So much so that after yet another incident of someone finding out his phone number and mass calling him, he's brushed off as no issue at all. That he's old enough to deal with this on his own now- 'You're 21 now, that's an adult, Jungkook. And adults have to make their own decisions.'

Suddenly. Huh?

Suddenly he's supposed to be independent.

After years and years of being babied and belittled and having everything chewed up for him so he wouldn't have to use his teeth for anything. Suddenly he's supposed to hunt down his own food and provide for himself.

And it's when he realizes it, in the darkness of his small private apartment he got scolded for buying last year.

He's nothing but a product. No one actually cares for him- only for what he represents. A brand. A puppet. Something to buy. Nothing to love.

He's told to just ignore it, use another phone or request another number and just move on from it. But how can he move on if there's people out there who call him nothing but a dog for simply missing a comment on a livestream? He can't just play after everyone's tune, there's too much music at this point, beats bleeding into one another so much so that he can't find a spot to place his feet any longer.

He keeps tripping, and everyone blames him for it.

They've even taken his phone away from him entirely, years back. Now they're doing different things to control him. Tell him to concentrate, loose weight, gain it back, loose it again. Get surgery, don't get it, or rather get it but hide it. Promote this, just to get blamed if the brand does something stupid, stop promoting it just to get called a coward.

Die, but stay alive, but also die, but also keep going. What's going on?

Left?

Right?

Is there a middle to choose instead?

He's got no voice. He sings, loudly so, stable as ever- but his voice doesn't belong to himself. Is what's wanted, it's what fits the concept, just like the rest of him.

Interchangeable. Morphing, constantly.

One day he's the boyfriend, next he is the brother, then he's the boy next door, just to become the sexiest crush all the girls want. What is he?

Who is he?

He hasn't called back the company, has locked his doors and shut the blinds. He doesn't want to do this any longer, this is all just insanity, doesn't anyone see this? Is everyone just so obsessed with wealth that they don't care about being honest?

He's walking alongside Han River, hood deep over his head, facemask hiding what's exposed, clothes dark. He doesn't want to be known, by anyone, ever again. But even if he moved to the other end of the world, starting again as a no-name is a luxury he'll never be granted.

Someone's sitting on the ground, clothes wetly sticking to the skin. Long hair. A girl? He's not sure.

You're moving, barely so, shivering, body trembling in the cold temperature. He lends you his jacket, eyes wide open as they look at yours. You're like a scared little animal, nothing behind those eyes that's coherent, but most importantly-

there's no recognition.

Even when he pulls his mask down a little to test it- you don't seem to know who he is. You don't talk at all, even when asked for your name.

You just cry, scared, terrified, leaning closer to him when he tries to get up.

Is that affection? Or maybe what affection could feel like?

If so, this is affection without any thought behind it. Nothing to gain. Nothing to receive. You just want to be close to him. To him.

Not to him.

It's so wrong. God it's so wrong, it makes him nauseous, makes him panic a little when he realizes that he somehow managed to get you into his home, where you now sleep in his bed, freshly showered, arms wrapped in bandages, hair dried, dressed in his softest clothes, safely tucked beneath the covers.

He should call the cops. But then he'd be blamed, right? They'll think he's insane, a creep, a criminal- and when it get's out, he's a wanted man, even if he somehow doesn't get put into jail.

No. He can't do that.

He can't have that.

But he can have you.

And he wants to have you.

Someone who wants him.

And not the version of him staring back at him from the billboard across the street.

You're just what he needs.

And he'll become all that you'll need in return.

[digitaldreams0801]

How the Production Problems of Digimon Adventure Tri Directly Parallel the Issues of Ace Attorney Dual Destinies

i lied. put your clothes back on. we're talking about why digimon adventure tri is the worst thing to happen to the digimon franchise (and how its problems directly parallel ace attorney dual destinies and spirit of justice)

this is a very long rant i typed in a discord server first but it’s something i’ve been thinking for years and i finally put it into words. everybody clap and cheer. (contains very negative opinions toward tri and lukewarm takes on adventure 2020 and ghost game, proceed at your own peril)

let’s talk about digimon tri and ace attorney dual destinies

so first and foremost, what exactly *is* digimon adventure tri?? digimon tri is the seventh-ish season of the digimon anime that released from 2015-2018. despite running for over three years, this show has twenty-six episodes that were split up into six movies and then divided into twenty-six episodes again. that alone should tell you how much of a struggle the production was, but when i tell you this anime might have had the most troubled development of any anime i have ever seen, i fucking MEAN IT. digimon tri is a disaster. 

so to start, it's time for a history lesson. digimon adventure aired for around a year in 1999-2000. it was going to be a standalone anime, but it was extended into a second season known as digimon adventure zero two (the zero two standing for 2002, the year the series takes place in). the second season follows the youngest of the first season cast forming a new team of six for adventures in the digital world. the original digimon adventure was universally beloved as one of the best anime of the 90's and early 2000's, but zero two was received a bit less well. it was a bit of a divisive season with some people really loving it and others not so much. personally i adore zero two and think people's adventure nostalgia keeps them from acknowledging how good zero two is. but that's beside the point. after zero two, the team behind digimon decided to start from scratch and make an entirely new cast of characters going forward, so the series began to follow that pattern going forward, and no season after this save for adventure follow-ups have characters shared with another season

digimon tamers was the next season and it started airing in 2001. the first thing people noticed about tamers is that it is a MASSIVE departure in tone from adventure and zero two. the first two seasons were already surprisingly dark for kids' shows, but tamers in my eyes just. flat out is not for children. this is a horror anime they put under the digimon name. it's very beloved by the fan base now and is known as one of the best seasons of digimon but at the time it was known for scaring kids and generally being terrifying. so the series is starting its decline going into 2002

so to fix this, the next season is the black sheep of the franchise: digimon frontier. i could write an entire paper about the problems in digimon frontier but to put it simply this is the digimon season i have rewritten in excruciating detail. digimon frontier tried something radically different at the time and tried to capture the child audience once again by being a lot more episodic than the last three seasons. in the end frontier struggled a lot with maintaining a consistent quality and fluctuates massively from being amazing to being really bad. frontier being so radically different by taking away partner digimon and instead having the main cast turn into digimon was a massive turn off for a lot of people, and after frontier ended, the digimon anime ended, and the so-called "golden era" of digimon came to a close with the last episode of frontier airing in 2003

after a few years' hiatus, the next digimon season, savers, aired in 2006, and it was very clearly targeting a teen audience. it was also radically different from most other seasons and was most in line with tamers, though even that isn't really a perfect comparison. it has a radically different art style, departs from series tradition by making the characters mid to late teens instead of in the 10-13 range, and is very intense in very strange ways. like the main character just punches digimon. savers was a very strange anime and definitely a second wind but not quite the one the franchise needed to keep going, so the anime went back on hiatus after savers ended in 2007

after another few years, we got digimon xros wars, the longest season of digimon. i say season?? it's one season of 79 episodes split up into three parts. xros wars was a return to form with tween main characters and an overarching story that was nowhere near as intense as tamers or savers. xros wars was radically different because it involved fusing digimon instead of straight evolution, and out of all the digimon seasons, it feels the most like the one made to sell toys. this season was picked up by nickelodeon internationally if that's any indication of how much of a success they thought it was going to be. in practice though?? the third and final part of xros wars went out on a whimper and was so bad it didn't even air internationally. digimon was just falling out of favor with people, and an anime that had once been so good that it was competing with and even *beating* pokemon in ratings and views was now having a hard time getting a season off the ground in japan, much less internationally

and that is where digimon tri comes in. digimon tri was an attempt to recapture the golden era of digimon with its most popular and universally beloved season: the original digimon adventure from 1999. tri was announced as a fifteenth anniversary project, and it would bring back the adventure cast for the first time in fifteen years. this was the first red flag though: it was bringing back the *adventure* cast, not the zero two cast. there are four new characters who join the party in zero two, and they are all very significant. there are two characters who carry over from adventure to zero two, and to be quite honest with you, they are closer with the zero two cast than the adventure cast. like takeru has a much stronger connection with the zero two cast than he did with the adventure cast. but all four characters from zero two were suspiciously absent from all promotional material, and even as fans asked where they were, their questions were never answered. they were just *gone,* and nobody knew why. this is especially bizarre since zero two is very much an extension of adventure. like you can watch adventure alone but it is much stronger with zero two and zero two is the definitive ending of the story. so why the fuck were they ignoring the ending they had set to to their own story??

sighs loudly. the director. i hate this man. i have beef with him. his name is keitaro motonaga, and in cloud's words, he should sleep with one eye open because i am coming for him. so motonaga did this super cool thing called "directing tri without ever watching the source material." ...what? yes, you read that right: the director of tri had *never seen* the original adventure nor zero two. he was going off what i can only describe as a spark notes description of everything that happened. the original adventure was very heavily focused on the subversion of common anime tropes. the ditzy popular girl is the most emotionally genuine. the oldest is the most irresponsible, and the youngest is the most put together. even the two "rivals" aren't *really* rivals when it comes down to it. digimon adventure takes a lot of anime tropes and stereotypes and flips them on their head to make very deep and compelling characters. so when you're operating on a spark notes understanding of the story, you're going to fall back on those tropes, and that is *exactly* what the director did. rather than watch the source material and become acquainted with these characters and their relationships, he operated off stereotypes the characters were made to subvert and completely butchered them in the process. taichi and yamato were always at each other's throats when they were genuinely friends in adventure. mimi became overly mean and insensitive. jyou stepped *back* from a character beat in adventure in a major way that ruined him. in trying to play to nostalgia, digimon tri completely forgot what made all of these characters so great in the first place and then spat on it

i know you're wondering: why the *fuck* did the director not watch the source material? he thought it would "dampen" and "ruin" his creative vision. he shouldn't have even been adapting a media he knew nothing about, but there he was, and it was bad. since he only got the spark notes for adventure, he ignored zero two entirely and cut the characters out of the plot. in fact, various things meant to invoke zero two nostalgia were done solely for the sake of "rule of cool" and nostalgia instead of actually meaning anything. none of it made any fucking sense. there were others on the project who had other ideas of what the story could have been--ideas that actually made sense in line with the spirit of adventure and zero two--but they were shot down in the name of the creative vision of a man who had never seen nor engaged with the source material. keitaro motonaga went on to get a massive reputation in the anime scene after tri ended for doing this with multiple adaptation projects of his: ignoring the source material for the sake of a creative vision that made no sense. it was overall fucking atrocious 

and you can tell it was bad because in japan, they generally don't let the audience know when production is going bad on the back end of something. however with tri, it was bad enough to be addressed multiple times in many ways, and i'm sure that what we know is only the tip of the iceberg. it was a disaster from start to finish. i know a lot of people joke about production disasters but sincerely this was fucking atrocious and i hate it from the bottom of my heart

while tri was airing, it was being released internationally. it actually got international support unlike the traditional season airing at the same time: appmon. out of the two, appmon is *much* better, and it's a return to form for the franchise. i would argue that appmon is much more deserving of the golden era than frontier. appmon is amazing, but because it always had to compete with tri for attention, it never truly got off the ground in japan, much less internationally where it didn't even get official subs until YEARS after the fact. appmon was much more deserving of the spotlight and was actually written well but didn't get jack shit because tri was the adventure thing and therefore drew in people for nostalgia. hindsight is 20/20 though because if they had marketed appmon, maybe toei wouldn't have to bitch all the time about digimon not going well. this is your own damn fault you dipshits

tri has been panned by both japanese and western fans for a lot of reasons. it's heartless slop meant to prey on a person's nostalgia for adventure, and it has none of the heart of its predecessors. it's clumsily written and overall a poor exploration of what an older cast for adventure would get up to. the plot doesn't make sense, and it's a train wreck from beginning to end. the director wanted it to be "mature," so the season is unnecessarily dark and edgy much to its detriment. the creative vision of "maturity" and darkness completely ignored the fact that the original adventure and zero two *were* mature anime with very deep character development. they're classics for a damn reason, but they were pushed aside for the sake of being more "mature." fans panned tri for feeling insulting to their intelligence, like toei thought they would eat up anything as long as it had the digimon name attached to it

and it backfired like all hell. because nobody wanted *anything* to do with tri after it ended. when it ended, it was without any ceremony to speak of. it was 26 episodes split into six movies and then back into 26 episodes again, and it took over three years to release. it had more than double the release time window of appmon, and it had *half* the episodes of appmon. it's not like the tri was an animated spectacle or anything either. in movie four, the budget goes off a fucking cliff and never recovers. appmon may have had shaky animation at times, but it hit it out of the park where it count. tri has a color grading problem in its last two movies, and it's impossible to make out anything that happens in the finale because of it. things happen without reason, the characters have been obliterated completely, and the story makes no fucking sense. everyone was RELIEVED when tri ended, but it was such a massive failure that the digimon anime went on hiatus for ages after it ended, and for a while, everyone thought it would never come back

and when it did?? toei was trying to recoup the losses from tri the best it could. tri was purged from almost all digimon media, relegated to background cameos in future digimon media at most. nobody wanted to talk about tri to the point that when a sequel movie set after tri (last evolution kizuna) was released in 2020, tri was completely ignored. kizuna focuses on the zero two cast to overcompensate for the fact that they were completely absent from tri. the zero two cast even got a new movie last year (the beginning) all their own to try and make it up to fans that they were gone. the adventure timeline has continued, but tri has been entirely excluded from it aside from a few brief snapshots in the background of kizuna and the beginning. nobody wants to remember this anime existed despite it being a part of the main anime's timeline between zero two and kizuna. it hasn't been outright retconned but it might as well have been

after tri, toei decided to play it safe again. they went for an adventure reboot as the next season, and thus, digimon adventure psi (or adventure: or adventure 2020, it has a million names) was born. adventure 2020 is just,,, mediocre. it's a lot more focused on the spectacle of big fight scenes now that the digimon anime has a budget to speak of, and the character growth took a backseat. adventure 2020 took a long time to get dubbed though. like over two years. and it's still very inaccessible to this day because it's not available on any streaming service but instead (reads smudged writing on hand) available on the play station store where you can buy every individual episode out of 67. adventure 2020 is the second longest season of the anime after xros wars but it's still kind of a nothing burger because it fails to capture the emotional heart of adventure 1999. it's a fine enough season but a lot of people lost interest when it turned into just a fight compilation instead of developing any of its characters in a meaningful way

adventure 2020 also saw the continuation of a big problem with tri which was favoritism. since both adventrue 2020 and tri were meant to be franchise revivals in their own ways, they play it very safe and focus on taichi and yamato almost exclusively to the point of ignoring many of the other characters. the problem is at its worst in adventure 2020 in my eyes even though it is present in every season to some extent or another save for tamers and appmon. since adventure 2020 focused on two characters and their fighting capabilities while kind of shelving the other six, it fell into the pitfalls of past seasons (especially frontier and xros wars) and kind of ended without anyone really caring about it

after adventure 2020, the final season of the digimon anime was ghost game. this one is the most episodic digimon season of the bunch to try and appeal to a casual audience, and i think it does that very well! unfortunately it doesn't really develop its overarching plot at a good pace and crams everything together into the last five episodes after having a run time of over fifty episodes before that. ghost game is fine, but it's not a character driven season because of its heavy reliance on the monster of the week structure. the characters were always the draw of digimon, and each season has its own method of going about developing its characters. ghost game,,, doesn't do that! so it's just kind of there, and it once again ended without a grand finale and no one really cared much that it was over

so in conclusion, digimon tri was meant to be the revival of the digimon anime. in practice though, it had a very troubled production and didn't give a damn at all about the suorce material it was meant to follow, and it fell flatter than any other digimon season in the process. tri soured a lot of people's opinions on digimon, which is ironic since tri was supposed to bring back the audience that was lost all the way back when zero two aired in 2000. the digimon anime has not recovered since then, and i think outright ignoring tri in favor of new projects is the best way to go

now for how this ties in with ace attorney dual destinies and spirit of justice! i feel like you can figure out where the parallels are just by reading through everything i've already said, but i'm going into it anyway. ace attorney's popularity started to fall off after the original trilogy ended, and after a few experimental entries (aa4 and the aai games), it was decided that they needed something to bring the old audience back. that wound up being bringing phoenix back into the courtroom for dual destinies. however, dual destinies tries to act as an entry point, so while it's not the same as deliberately ignoring everything that came before it, it has the same effect. dual destinies does not let itself reference anything that happened before it released, and that means it's relying on nostalgia without actually digging into what implications the story will have on the greater narrative. the no-spoiler rule ends up very similar to the tri director's refusal to watch the original digimon adventure and zero two. on top of that, dual destinies tries to tackle darker, more mature themes, completely forgetting the maturity of the storytelling that came before it. frustratingly enough, both dual destinies and tri have nuggets of gold in them, but they're squandered by bad plot points and also reusal of old plots. tri's entire premise is actually just the basis of the first movie for zero two. it's just hurricane landing again but stretched out for closer to ten hours instead of just one. similarly, dual destinies' finale follows a very similar premise to the end of the first game, but it reenacts it without understanding what made the original great. it *could* have been great though, and that is ultimately what frustrates me so much about both of them. they're so close to being amazing, but they just fall short

the difference between ace attorney and digimon though is that digimon did not double down. after tri didn't work, they yanked the wheel in the opposite direction and made kizuna, a movie that *is* narratively cohesive with adventure and zero two. i'm not a huge fan of kizuna but i do acknowledge that it is very well written. ace attorney, on the other hand, doubled the fuck down and made spirit of justice in the same vein as dual destinies. in doing so, they wrote themselves into a corner they now can't get out of. pandering to nostalgia fell short in the end, and it wasn't enough to truly bring ace attorney to a wider audience as they had hoped. apollo is out of the plot, and he was character assassinated before he was pushed out. athena has been sidelined because of nostalgia around phoenix specifically. spirit of justice is the epitome of the bad decisions made in dual destinies, and they're blowing up in capcom's faces now. there's no easy way to write a seventh ace attorney game now without retconning something, but since they doubled down in spirit of justice--a game that is much worse than dual destinies both in terms of bloat (which is also a tri problem lol) and writing--they can't just quietly escape it the way digimon did with kizuna and the beginning. ace attorney hasn't come out with a new mainline game in eight years. if you ask me, it needs to cut its losses and either a) go the appmon route of making something entirely different since dgs did that and was an amazing game just like appmon was an amazing anime or b) figure out what to retcon and what to keep because going down the same path of spirit of justice very clearly is not working. they realized it too late though, and now, they're in trouble for it

[strange-dreams-are-made-of-these]

Take My Whiskey Neat

Summary: Amaris, a mutant with regenerative healing and bone-like claws, grew up within the confines of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. She became a teacher, falling in line with the order of the X-Men. She had always felt like a part of her had been missing for time. Though one day the X-Men save a young girl terrified of her powers and a man who could only remember the last twenty years of his life. Things begin to change, for all parties involved. Tags: Cursing, Canon-typical violence, abandonment issues, use of an original character (this shouldn't count, but here it is), if you think I forgot about something, please tell me and I will add. Word Count: 26K (my longest chapter ever) A/N: I wrote this because like 19 people liked one of my posts. This is for you guys. Please let me know if you want in on the tag list. This is not beta read. (Part Two) (Part Three) divider credit to @cafekitsune

Warm rays of sunshine always found the perfect way to slip between the curtains of the bedroom window, slowly creeping from the floor up to the bed and into the eyes of Amaris, causing her to wake up if she hadn't already been awake by the time the sun rose. Today was one of those days where the extra hour or two counted most to her. Her rest went interrupted a few times, tossing and turning between the sheet and blanket of her bed hadn't been unusual for the young woman, but the dreams she had between the interruptions had been very uncommon indeed.

The first memories she could recall had been in the mansion, watching Saturday morning cartoons and eating cereal with other kids, learning how to ride a bike down the long driveway of the mansion, and having her first date even with a classmate who has now moved on somewhere in the Carolina's using his powers to work at a nuclear plant.

But the dreams she had were of a time she couldn't remember.

There were kids running around behind two adults, one man and one woman. The woman had long brown hair and tanned skin. The man had brown hair, a little fluffy, and was lighter than the woman. They ran nearly hand in hand with the children running behind him. Given her view of events, she seemed to be held in the arms of the woman.

"Kayla, get the kids out of here."

"Not without you."

"I wasn't asking."

The man then looked at what Amaris thought was her, placing a kiss on her forehead. "Daddy will come back for you, baby girl. I promise."

Amaris would continue to wake up before she could see what would happen next. It was frustrating to her, having been the type to always want answers as quickly as possible. She shook her head as she rose, placing her feet on the floor and rubbing the side of her face. What could the dreams have possibly meant? It was too early in the morning to even bother The Professor with such questions, and with her first class to start in roughly two and a half hours, she decided to ask him later.

The sounds of birds outside filtered through the cracked window, making the young woman smirk. She stood up, walked around her bed, and crossed the room, shutting the door before starting off her day the right way. She made her bed, picked out her outfit for the day, took a shower, brushed her teeth, and put half of her hair up in a claw clip. As she finished getting ready for the day, she took a moment to pause, looking down at her hands. Her thumbs gently ran over her knuckles and the inside of her wrists. Being thankful for the school and Charles Xavier, she was able to learn how to control her powers, but she would still feel as if she could feel the physical pain of the use of her powers constantly. She always had to be careful, not wanting to risk injuring others.

She left her bedroom, having been one of the first few mutants out of their rooms for the day. Her dreams still haunted her, wondering who the man and woman were, why she had been there, and what had happened after the man parted ways with her.

Having been caught up in her thoughts, she nearly bumped into another one of the school's teachers. "Oh, good morning Jean." She spoke, offering a warmish smile.

"Good morning, Amaris." Jean smiled back, observing her friend and colleague's facial reactions. Jean squinted a little as she observed Amaris. "Did you sleep well?"

It was always hard to keep things away from telepaths. They were too smart, literal walking lie detectors. "Not really, but I'm fine. I think." Amaris added, placing one hand on her hip and the other on the back of her head. "I was going to ask The Professor, but I don't want to bug him with mundane things like dreams."

Jean shrugged her shoulders, giving Amaris an encouraging look. "We don't call him The Professor for nothing. Dreams are powerful visions. Mutant dreams are something entirely different altogether."

"I know." the slightly younger woman replied, exhaling a deep breath. "Jean," Amaris started, "Do you think it's possible to see or remember parts of the past you can't remember?"

Jean looked puzzled now, placing a hand on Amaris' shoulder. "I don't see why not. Do you want to talk about it?"

Amaris, appreciating the gesture, delicately removed Jean's hand from her shoulder. "Maybe later? I want to think about what I saw for a little bit." It was better for her to process what happened before she shared it with others. Amaris cleared her throat, changing her smile to a more genuine one. "You have the press conference thing today, right?" Jean nodded in response. "I'll be watching. Break a leg. Remember that Senator Kelly is a wrinkly bag of opinions, not facts."

Jean looked down for a moment, stifling a laugh before regaining her composure and looking back to Amaris. "No doubt he will have a way to twist my words, but at least I'll have The Professor with me to turn to when the inevitable happens."

A hand appeared on the small of Jean's back. A gruff voice spoke up as he appeared to her side, his red Polaroid sunglasses tucked perfectly on his face. "Hopefully this will give our students the right motivation to continue their studies here too."

Amaris looked at Scott, giving a small wave to greet him. "I would love to stay and chit-chat with you two love birds, but I have an English class to teach." With those words, Amaris parted ways with her friends, walking down the hallways of the mansion.

There had been many things going on today, and she knew Jean's meetings and conversations were important for mutants everywhere. Amaris wasn't speaking on mutant rights or actively assisting in aiding the ones who needed help. Only teaching them how the English language worked, and occasionally donning a black leather X-Men suit when they required her assistance. Storm, Jean, and Scott seemed to have their places and roles solidified with Charles staying behind to not only watch over the team but to ensure the safety of the kids, along with the few other teachers of the school, like Amaris.

It wasn't a difficult life to live, having been a resident and student of the School for the Gifted herself. Yet, it's all she has ever known. Living in the X-Mansion, learning to control her powers, finding a way to use them for good, helping her friends and students control their powers, and training with the X-Men on the lower floors. It was exciting to have powers and be a mutant, but it was terrifying to have powers that could harm others if not properly used or trained. She had friends like Ororo, Jean, Scott, and even Charles who understood the things that happened to her but also had experienced those things too.

Amaris opened up the doors to her designated classroom, seeing Charles next to her desk. She could hear his heartbeat from outside the door, not causing her to be scared or jump. He smirked looking at her. "Just who I was wanting to see."

Amaris walked up to the desk, leaning against it as she crossed her arms. "Am I that in demand, Professor?" She asked jokingly, giving the older man a smile.

"Only when your dreams are louder than one's thoughts." He replied, waving his hand in a gesture for her to sit down. Amaris willingly sat down at the student desk in front of him, not sure if this was the right time to have this conversation. "I know you told Jean you didn't want to talk about it, but talking about these dreams can help you more versus not talking about it and it hurt you."

She shook her head as she looked to her teacher and mentor. "Why are you so wise?" She asked him, rhetorically. "I don't know where I was. I can't even tell if it was me. I just remember there being a man and a woman leading a group of kids out of some place, maybe a building or a hangar or something. But, it was like I wasn't running with them. It was like I was in the woman's arms. The man told her to run away, he turned to her, kissed her, then he turned to, who I think, was me. He kissed my forehead and said 'Daddy will come back for you.'. Then I would wake up." She looked at Charles as he examined her, moving his wheelchair toward her at the desk. "I don't know what to think about it. It felt so real."

He reached a hand out, patting her hand that rested on the desk. "My dear, I think you already know the answer to that." Charles had always been a comforting being to his students, no matter how old they became. "My question for you is, what are you going to do with this information?"

Amaris looked at Charles, searching his eyes for anything that should be an answer for her. He was always hard to read, mastering a solid facade. Amaris exhaled another deep breath. "It wasn't much information to do anything with. But why would I just now be remembering something that happened so far in the past?"

Charles removed his hand, resting back in his chair. "I am a telepath, not a dream interpreter. However, I think your subconscious is trying to kick start something in you, beyond just remembering potentially the face of the man. I think you should reflect on this dream of yours and apply it to your life here at the mansion. There could be a lesson to learn from it."

Amaris huffed a little. "I thought I learned everything I could about myself. That's what this school was built for, right?"

Charles chuckled. "There is always time to learn or teach something. Hm, speaking of..." The door opened up and a small group of students entered the room. Charles moved his wheelchair, navigated the classroom, and exited the room. Amaris stood up watching Charles leave, feeling as if she had more questions than answers now. She collected herself, walked to her desk, and grabbed a stack of papers to distribute to her students.

Amaris had stayed in her classroom, grading the tests from the two morning classes she had. She spun the red pen between her fingers, and the sounds of the students talking and playing filled the air as both her classroom door and windows were open. She loved the smell of fresh air, and it had been such a wonderful day weather-wise for the school. Who could pass up on fresh air? Maybe she should have taken a break herself and walked outside. There was plenty of time for that later. First, she needed to grade these papers.

Other duties prevented that. A red light flashed on her watch, looking down to see the x symbol blinking. She put her items away, quickly standing up and making her way to the elevators. She met up with Storm as the two women walked into the elevator. "I hope it's nothing too serious," Amaris admitted out loud, though prepared to do what was needed.

"Agreed," said Storm, "Yet again, we have both said that about the last three alerts." When the elevator doors opened, the women stepped off, heading directly to the meeting room. Scott had been staring at the monitor, Charles and Jean joining him. They both just came back from their meeting with the U.S. Senate, having a difficult time with Senator Kelly. "What's going on, Scott?" Storm asked.

The man looked between the four others who joined them. "We have a hit on Magneto, or at least that's who we think this signal is picking up." He pressed a button on a remote, and the screed zoomed in on an area in the Canadian Rockies. "The quicker we get to him, the less of a risk he has causing trouble."

"Why would he be in the Canadian Rockies?" Jean asked.

Charles hummed a little. "He is looking for something. Magneto would not be sloppy enough to be caught unless he was looking for something or wanted to be caught. We must be careful."

"Storm, why don't you come with me? Jean, fly the jet and stay back in case we need any help. And Amaris-"

"Stay at the Mansion with the Professor, in case something happens, and get everybody to safety. I know the drill." Amaris spoke, holding up a hand with her other arm crossed over her chest.

Scott nodded, looking between everyone, avoiding making eye contact with Amaris as she sulked away from the group, taking a seat in the war room and putting on a com link. Amaris watched as the other three left to suit up as quickly as possible, turning on the monitors to watch the hangar and the inside feed of the jet. She didn't understand, she had been nearly five to six years younger than the others. Just because she was younger didn't mean she wasn't ready to fight. She was twenty-four years old, she could handle herself.

Charles could tell that Amaris was bothered by the constant choice to leave her behind. "He doesn't think you any less competent than the others, or himself." He watched as they left the mansion in the jet, making their way to Alberta.

"It feels like it, but I don't have much room to talk. I want to be a part of the X-Men, not piss off its group leader."

"You are not an aspiring member of the X-Men, you are an X-Man. And Scott isn't the group leader, I am." Charles spoke firmly as he looked over to Amaris. "He doesn't bring you out to the field because you are like a sister to him. He feels the need to protect you, which means dealing with your brooding while he and the others go out on missions."

Amaris stared at Charles as he spoke, a little cooing-like sound coming from her core. She was confused by his statement, mostly the latter part. "He what?"

Charles nodded. "Scott has known you since your childhood. You must have been three when you came to the mansion. He has looked after you like an older sibling would cautiously watch their younger sibling. Every tumble you took, every scratched knee, bothered him and he would worry about you. No matter how many times he watched you heal instantly in front of his eyes." Charles held onto the fond memories of his students and their happier times. "Try talking to him sometime, and encourage him to use you for the team's greatest outcome. Soon we will have a new set of young recruits, and who knows, maybe sub-team B will need its own team captain to keep them in check."

Amaris often wondered where the other's trust in her had been placed, but she never imagined finding out this way. "Maybe he can't trust my... abilities." She tried giving some reason for Scott's hesitation.

"It's not his hesitation to trust you and your gifts, child. He hesitates in his trust in himself, not wanting anything to happen to you. We must all realize we are not just mutants, or teachers, or students. We are all family. We must protect each other, even if it means making questionable choices we can regret later."

Amaris had been quick to equip the med bays, hearing about the two inured mutants that were coming in. One was a teenage girl, practically wrapped head to toe in clothing and fabric. The other was a man, maybe young to mid-thirties, who somehow instantly healed from being injected from his truck yet was knocked out by known mutant Sabertooth. It had been a little while since an adult mutant had been brought in for help by the X-Men, so Amaris was sure to make sure everything Jean could have needed was made available to her. He seemed to be in some type of comatose state while the girl had a superficial cut to her leg. It was easy to heal, and Amaris had been grateful to be of assistance to her while Jean took care of the man.

Amaris had finished stitching up the girl's leg, observing how quiet she had been the whole time. Setting the tools down on a tray next to her, Amaris removed her gloves, discarding them on the tray as well. "I think you have had a rather eventful day." The girl nodded a little, apprehensive about the care she was receiving. "Are you hungry? It's almost lunchtime, but I think I can sneak you a sandwich and a drink before the others see."

"Others?" the girl asked, an indication of a Southern accent that gave Amaris a clue where she was from.

She smiled, stepping away from the table. "Kids. Your age and younger. A couple even a little older." It was always nice to be able to help others, and the woman knew this girl was in desperate need of help. "My name is Amaris. I'm a teacher here at Charles Xavier's School for the Gifted. This is a place where people like us can live freely without the fear of others doing harm to us."

The girl seemed to relax her posture slightly, but not enough to feel comfortable. "How do you know what I am?"

Amaris knew in order to gain her trust, she would have to open herself up to the young girl. She held her arm in front of her, safely away from the girl. With the slow reflex of her tendons, three bony claws exposed themselves. Two protruded between her index and middle knuckles and ring finger and pinky knuckles. The third protruded from the inside of her wrist. The girl looked shocked, her jaw lowering a little bit. Her face changed, paling a little. "They look just like..."

Amaris looked at her, confused. "Like what?"

"Like Logan's."

"Who's Logan?"

It had been a few hours since Rogue and Logan arrived. Rogue was thrown directly into the world of the school, with the help of Amaris. She had always been prepared for new students, having notebooks, pencils, pens, folders, and other items ready for new students. The woman had helped Rogue get her classes registered in the main system, finding open seats in the five main courses the students were required to take: English, History, Science, Math, and Social Studies. This would give the young girl time to meet with her new peers, get a feel for how the school days work, and give her time to figure out which other extra classes she wanted to take.

She kept her emotions at bay and made sure Rogue was settled for the day, having some mixed feelings when it came to the situation that had occurred. Rogue's words rang heavily in Amaris' mind, saying her mutation reminded her of the man she had just met the night before, on the same continent in a different country. It wasn't unusual to see similar mutations in several people, maybe at varying degrees or strengths, but to learn there was another person the X-Men rescued who had the exact same mutations she had was scary.

As she roamed the halls leaving her classroom, Amaris was hit with a certain smell. Sniffing the air a few times, she picked up on the scent of cigar smoke, gasoline, and a hint of fear. This sent Amaris into a little override state, fearing somebody was making their presence known to unsuspecting students. Amaris carefully tracked the anomaly, leaving the corridor of the hall and heading toward the staircase. She paused when she heard the heartbeat, beating rapidly in his chest. Students passed her by, heading down the stairs to their next class, not knowing there was a powerful mutant who hid from them. And he was afraid. The sounds of his feet shuffling on the hardwood and the rugs were his biggest giveaway, letting her know when she could start her own descent down the stairs.

The sound of a door opening and closing let her know where he had been, and given their current location in the mansion, she knew that this man had stepped into Charles' classroom. As she made her way down the stairs she watched the door open again, children leaving with their bags and supplies, a moment or two later another girl left, this time phasing through the walls. "Miss Pryde, use the door next time. Phasing should be for emergencies only, remember?"

The girl nodded. "Yes, Miss Amaris." She then quickly made her way up to the other students.

She shook her head a few times as she stood outside the door, listening to what was being said. She had been too nearly focused on what was happening behind the door to not notice Scott and Storm walk up behind her. "Well, are we just going to stand out here all day? or are we going to go in there and get some answers?" Scott asked, sounding dry.

Amaris rolled her eyes at him, then opened the door when she heard the Professor come to a stopping point. She walked in first, followed by Storm and then Scott, who stayed behind on the threshold. A rather tall man watched as the others filtered into the room. "Ah, yes. Logan, I'd like for you to meet Ororo Munroe, also known as Storm." Charles spoke, introducing the two. Logan gave a look to Storm, eyeing her up and down as the two stared at each other. Amaris hadn't known Storm to look at somebody that way before as if he had stars dancing above her head. It was strange, to say the least.

Charles continued on. "This is Scott Summers, also called Cyclops."

Scott offered a hand out to Logan to greet him, though was taken aback when the man ignored his hand. This brought a little more tension to the room.

"This is Amaris, one of our younger staff members here." Charles gestured over to Amaris, who took a place between Storm and Charles. She stared at the man, looking between his tufts of hair and his posture. She thought she had seen a man like him before somewhere.

Logan chuckled looking at her. "No special name for you, huh?"

Amaris shook her head. "I'm not really the field hero type."

Logan grunted a little in response. Charles took this time as an opportunity to speak again. "These people saved your life." The sound of heels clicking against the wood and Jean entered the room, running one hand across Scott's shoulders. "I believe you have already met Dr. Jean Grey."

Amaris looked at Logan, examining him as Charles spoke with him. There was a certain likeness to him that she thought she had seen before, but she couldn't place her finger on it. What was it about this man, who looked in his middle thirties, that crawled and gnawed at Amaris' insides, as if she was supposed to know this answer?

"You'll be safe here from Magneto." Charles continued.

Logan looked puzzled as he eyed Charles. "What's a Magneto?"

"A very powerful mutant," Storm answered, observing Logan. "who believes that a war is brewing between mutants and humans."

Logan looked between Storm, Jean, and Charles. He avoided eye contact with Amaris and had his back turned to Scott. Amaris peered over to Scott, unable to read his facial expressions. "I have been following his activities for some time. The man who attacked you is an associate of his called Sabertooth."

Logan looked away from Charles, looking at Storm, or maybe a little past her. "Sabertooth?" he questioned under his breath. His head spun around the room for a moment before speaking again. "Storm," he pointed at her, then eyeing Amaris, smirking. "No special name who sits behind the scenes." Amaris cocked her head at him, releasing the tension in her jaw as he turned to look at Charles again. "What do they call you? Wheels?" A moment of silence fell among the group before it was interrupted by Logan's chuckling. "This is the stupidest thing I have ever heard."

Logan shook his head, turning around and heading toward the door that Scott stood in the way of. Amaris could hear the little threat Logan made, watching as the man in the grey X-Men hoodie grabbed fist fulls of Scott's jacket, pulling Scott closer to him. She watched as Jean's hand flexed, but Amaris gave her a look, moving her hand over Jean's. The woman settled as they watched the two men interact.

"Logan," came the sturdy voice of Charles, "it's been almost 15? 21 years, hasn't it?" This perked not only the interest of Logan but Amaris as well. It was an interesting year range to think about, with these other elements she had been made aware of recently. "Living day to day, moving from one place to the next, with no memory of who, or what, you are."

Logan turned around quickly, baring his teeth. "Shut up!"

Amaris bared her teeth at the same time, a slight growl emitting from her belly as she was prepared to protect her friends and her family.

"We can help you. Give me a chance. I may be able to help you find some answers."

Logan rested his face after eyeing Charles, then looking at Amaris, then back to Charles. "How do you know?" He asked aloud, though determined on his reaction as he looked in various directions, the others were sure Charles had been displaying his gifts to him. To earn his trust, and for this stand-off to end. Logan's demeanor changed, a small half smile creeping up on his face, his tone changing when he spoke. "What is this place?"

Charles smiled, knowing he had finally found a common ground with the man. "Come with me, I'll show you." Charles made his way to the door, Scott stepping out of his way. Logan was slow, but followed him out, leaving the four current X-Men to process what happened.

Storm looked at Amaris, confused by her actions. "Why did you do that?"

Amaris looked at Storm, furrowing her brows. "I can't help that I growled. It's kinda a part of what I am. Whatever kind of mutation you want to call this."

Scott approached the three women. "We can't let our guard down while he is here. Magneto clearly wants something to do with him. We may not like it, but it's what we do."

"What do you mean we, Scott?" Storm asked, a little chuckle leaving her lips before she left the room.

Jean placed a hand on Amaris' shoulder. "I've never seen that side of you before. Are you sure you're fine?"

Amaris shrugged it off, grabbing her jacket sleeves and adjusting the fabric as she walked away. "I'm fine," Amaris spoke bluntly, leaving the room to find something else to do. Something productive, and keep herself busy and away from the thoughts of others. She needed fresh air, away from her team members and fellow teachers.

Most importantly, away from the stranger who didn't feel like a stranger.

A few hours had passed, and Logan was willing to stick around to find some answers about himself. While Amaris, Scott, and Storm all finished their classes for the day Jean took time to further examine Logan. This included a set of X-rays of his entire body, some blood work, and a genetic sequence test. Once these results were in, the X-Men and the Professor were all called in for a meeting. Amaris took her seat as usual while Jean stood to present her findings. "The metal is an alloy called Adamantium. It's not a naturally occurring metal. This is something somebody created. It's supposedly indestructible." The screen then flipped to a new set of X-rays. "This has been surgically grafted to his skeleton."

Storm spoke up, her voice in shock. "How could he have survived such a procedure?"

Jean turned to her, her arms crossed. "It's his mutation. He has uncharted regenerative abilities. It enables him to heal rapidly." Jean's eyes shifted to Amaris, watching as she stared at the X-rays. Everything about Logan's mutation reminded her of Amaris, aside from the metal quality.

Amaris felt something in her chest. A whole? A rumble? It was hard to tell. The information was uncanny, how much her mutation reflected his. To see a similar mutation was normal. To see something almost a carbon copy of another was downright mysterious.

"This leaves guessing his age nearly impossible. He could potentially be older than you, Professor." Jean looked at Charles, both deep in thought.

"Who did this to him?" Scott asked.

Jean turned to him, shaking her head. "He doesn't know, nor does he remember anything about his life before this happened."

Charles sounded disgusted, yet kept an even level head. "It's not the first time we have seen experimentation on mutants. However, to this degree, it's something I certainly have never seen before." He moved his wheelchair closer to the X-rays as he scanned over them again.

Scott watched between Jean and Charles. "Why do you think Magneto needs him?" He sounded curious.

Charles spun around, looking at his X-Men. "I don't think he is what Magneto truly wants. And this baffles me." As he spoke to them, his eyes fell upon Amaris, who wrung her hands back and forth as her eyes were glazed over. "Until we locate Magneto again, we mustn't let Logan or anybody else leave the school."

Storm, Jean, and Scott all left the room. Amaris remained in her seat, her fingers rubbing over the tender slots between her knuckles. Charles approached her, sensing her concern. "I can sense something is troubling you. You may find this hard to believe... but I think it bothers me as well."

Amaris focused her eyes on Charles, watching him as he spoke. "What is the likelihood of finding the same mutation in two people, to an extent like this?" She gestured toward the genetic sequences and X-rays posted on the walls.

Charles gave her a little nod. "It's very rare. So rare, in fact, it could only come from one possible source." He rested his hand on her forearm. "Blood relations."

Amaris shook her head, looking down as he spoke. She didn't think it could be a possibility. Looking back up, she could feel herself fighting with her emotions. "The man in my dream, that I told you about this morning, I didn't see his face. I could see his posture, the outline of his head and shoulders," she paused for a moment, battling the shake that rumbled in her throat, "The sound of his voice... It all looked and sounded like him."

Charles nodded as he watched her, feeling the discomfort and even possibly the hurt that she had been feeling. "We can't say that for certain. However, I will be more than happy to give you a copy of your genetic testing and we can compare them to his, only if you want, that is." Charles had known Amaris her whole life, finding her presence comforting and a wonderful addition during her schooling years and as a teacher now. She was family to him. "I can always dive into your mind to see this dream you had, see if I can make it any clearer."

It was a lot to process at one time. To start remembering her parents, having a mysterious man be rescued by her fellow team members, and then learning that he had been through a metaphorical seven rings of hell and through their attempt to help him by running these tests learn there is a chance they are related was something she never thought would happen. "I don't even know where to start thinking about this mess. How do you approach somebody who only remembers fifteen or twenty-one years of life and tell them, 'Hey! I think we are related.' That doesn't make a lot of sense."

Charles nodded in agreeance. "The choice is yours, my dear. You can find out the truth and hang onto it for as long as you live, which very well can be for an extremely long time. Or, act on this impulse and share your discoveries. Who knows? He may need you more than you think." Charles hummed again before turning his chair around. "Whatever choice you make, understand you are the author of your own fate. Don't let the past determine your future."

Amaris was left alone in the debriefing room, left to look at the x-rays of the man named Logan, to ponder her choices of self-discovery or self-destruction.

The day passed rather quickly. The Professor convinced Logan to stay for a couple of days, exchanging the gift of protection for the gift of uncovering his past. It was a noble thing to do, even for Charles, but Amaris thought it was a big gamble. If Magneto ever found out that Logan was at the X-Mansion, he could turn his thugs onto the school. The children were at the forefront of Amaris' mind, and their protection meant everything to her.

Setting her freshly washed plate in the drying rack next to the sink, she turned around, bracing her back against the countertop. She rubbed circles into her forehead, trying to alleviate a migraine she thought she had. It was funny to think with an overactive healing regenerative factor that she couldn't combat a single migraine. Or understand how unbelievably painful it was.

There was another person in the kitchen, having shared a dinner with Amaris. "You seem off today, Amaris," Storm spoke, walking her plate over to the sink. Amaris moved out of her way, still leaning against the counter. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Amaris looked at Storm, one of, if not her closest, friends she had at the mansion. "Ororo, I've been here at the mansion since I was three. I feel like I've put my time into learning and mastering my skills. The Professor tells me I am an X-Man, but I don't feel like it. Scott pushes me off to the side. I can get up and close to our enemies and not have to worry much about damage. I bounce right back. Instead, I'm constantly stuck here with Charles watching the mission hundreds or thousands of miles away." She looked at Ororo, her facial expression dropping. "Is there something wrong with me?"

Storm shook her head, placing a hand on Amaris'. "There is nothing wrong with you, or with any of us. Don't you see? He trusts you enough to stay back at the school in case something happens out there. He trusts your judgment, to analyze what may have gone wrong and how to fix it. You are our safety reserve, our watchful eye."

Amaris didn't know how to feel about the situation, nor how to respond to her comments. She felt that she wasn't being valued in the same way somebody with weather control, telekinesis, or optic blasting powers was. She was, at heart, an animal. Animals needed let out off their leashes from time to time, just to stretch their joints.

"Maybe a training day is in order, hmm? How about you and I run some simulations in the danger room tomorrow? It's been a while since we've faced each other." She smiled, trying to get any type of reaction out of Amaris.

She relaxed her shoulders, giving a quick nod before leaning off the counter. "You know, that sounds good."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a man screaming for help. Amaris was the first to leave the kitchen, running faster than Storm. She ran toward the source of the screaming, finding some students outside the door of where Logan was staying. Scott and Jean had arrived before her, and she was quick to work on wrangling the kids. "Go back to your dorms. go on now!" She called, more or less barking as some of the children jumped at her reaction. Storm had followed inside the room as Amaris overheard her tell her it was an accident.

Jean took care of Logan as his body squirmed on the floor and he choked for air. It was apparent he was having a seizure. Once Rogue and the children were gone, Amaris entered the room. "His healing factor is working again, just a little slow." Jean monitored him, checking his vital signs. "I think the seizure is over. We should get him up on the bed."

Scott nodded, grabbing Logan from under his arms. He struggled to lift the man. "What the?"

Amaris furrowed her brows. "Did you miss some sessions at the gym?"

He chuckled looking at her. "Oh, by all means, be my guest." Jean, Ororo, and Scott all stood to the side. Amaris walked over to Logan, taking one of his arms and throwing it over her shoulder. She then wiggled his body around before lifting him up into a fireman carry. She was careful to place his body down on the bed, then fixed his legs and arms so they weren't in uncomfortable positions. Her hand reached for his, setting it over the blanket as an electric current raced through her.

"Daddy will come back for you, baby girl. I promise."

Amaris jumped back a little, holding her hand close to her. Jean took a step toward Amaris, but she was quick to back away toward the door. "I'll make sure everyone goes back to bed." With those words, she left the room, her eyes big as her heart beat rapidly in her chest.

She had questions now, questions that could only be answered with the help and cooperation of Logan. Hopefully, the Professor will be able to help Logan find some missing pieces.

"Okay class, find your seats, quickly please," Amaris called out. She picked up her clipboard, taking a quick attendance. "John?... Bobby?... Kitty?... Jubilee?... Rogue?..." She looked up when there wasn't a response, seeing the empty seat. It was unusual to see a seat empty, although given it was her second day of classes. Amaris set her clipboard down, sensing something was wrong. "Well, kids, uh... use today's time as a study hall. I don't care if you listen to music, study for other classes, or finish late homework. Don't make too much noise." The woman got up from her seat, rounding her desk. "Everybody will get full marks for today." The kids began speaking to each other under their breaths as Amaris walked by, closing the doors behind her as she rounded the corner.

She knew something was wrong, and could almost sense that there was danger lurking somewhere. Amaris made her way towards the dorm rooms, finding the one Rogue had been assigned to. When she opened the door, she saw the bed had been stripped and her clothes and bag were gone. "Fuck." she muttered under her breath, now sprinting toward Storm's classroom. She made her way around the hallways, avoiding colliding with inanimate objects and living beings.

As she approached Storm's classroom, she could hear her speaking with Logan. She slowed down, settling herself as she stood near the cracked door, using it to shield herself from Logan and Storm.

The woman had used her powers to create a small rain cloud, moving it around the room to water the plants that were growing. Storm always had a way of finding the better side of life. She constantly reminded the kids about how precious and perfect they were, even just for existing.

Logan had his hands stuffed in his pockets as he watched Storm manipulate the cloud to her will before making it disappear. He let out a slow whistle before chuckling. "I guess every day for you is a sunny day."

Storm smiled warmly, turning to look at Logan. "I try to keep to the weather report. Besides, I don't want to get too tuckered out before I could even enjoy nice weather."

Logan hummed a little, his hand now moving a pen on her desk. "Maybe if you had the right company, you could still enjoy it, without being too bent out of shape."

Storm looked up at the man, her hands resting to her sides. She studied his face, trying to find some sort of semblance of a trick in his eyes. Those perfect hazel eyes of his were something any girl could melt for. She parted her lips, ready to speak, but Amaris decided now was the best time to make her presence known.

The door swung open as she entered the room, looking between the two. "Rogue's gone," she sounded defeated.

Storm looked from Logan. to Amaris, then back to Logan. "We have to tell the others. Come on."

Storm walked past Amaris, Logan following behind her. Both Logan and Amaris locked eyes with each other, looking puzzled in the brief moment they were connected. He had a pleading look in his eyes, like a part of him was begging to be noticed. Noticed by her. Amaris let out a shaky breath as Logan passed by, their eye contact breaking just in time.

The three adults headed toward the elevator, hopping on and going down to the meeting room. Scott and Charles had already been there. Logan led the two women to the room, the circular doors parting to let them through. "Where is she?" He asked as the three entered the room.

Scott turned around, watching as they entered. Amaris could see at first the wrinkle that pressed in his forehead as he saw Logan, though he quickly softened it once he saw the others. "Who?" he quizzed.

Amaris was about to speak but had been cut off. "Rogue," Charles spoke firmly, almost in a whisper. His face and eyes shifted as he thought, possibly trying to connect with her. "She's gone." The older man moved his wheelchair, leaving the room to enter the hallway.

The other adults followed him as he turned down the hallway, stopping before another circular door. He moved a little bit forward before a light appeared. It swept over his eye, a robotic woman's voice confirming his identity before opening the door.

As the door opened up, Charles moved into the sphere-shaped room, Logan following behind him. As the two spoke, Storm grabbed Amaris' arm, taking a few steps back before whispering to her. "Look, about what you saw in my classroom-"

Amaris shook her head. "I don't know what you are talking about." She had yet to tell Storm or the others about her situation, or what information she possibly had about Logan. It wasn't her place to speak on such a topic if it couldn't be proven yet. It also wasn't her place to tell her friend who she should trust or speak to. That was a negative thing to do, even worse than repressing one's own thoughts and feelings.

Storm looked at her, then she nodded slowly. "Okay." She gave her friend a gentle squeeze on her arm before stepping back with the others.

Amaris stayed where she had been left, though she was shortly joined by Scott. "I know you hate the question."

"Yet you still ask." She stated coldly, avoiding making eye contact with him. "Do I have something written on my forehead?"

Scott huffed a little, keeping their conversation between them. "Ever since Tin Man showed up, you have become distant. You have actively avoided me over the last day and a half. Is there something I've done to upset you?"

"Is my name Jean?" It was a snarky comment, sure, but snarky comments deserved snarky replies. Amaris peeled her eyes away from Jean and Storm, looking at Scott now. "I'm tired of you treating me like I'm a student, still. I'm not a child. I'm not made of glass. I don't go on missions with the other X-Men, I don't step inside the Black Bird, even to dust it. Hell, Scott, I don't even get to touch the wheels. You bring a mutant with unknown potential into the school and demand we protect him with our very lives. Something you wouldn't trust me to do for you out there in the open world."

He clenched his jaw as she spoke, seeing how she was hiding herself with carefully chosen words. Still, what she said spoke a lot about her character. "Him? Rogue is the one with unknown potential. I brought her here for her safety and protection. Storm was the one that brought Logan here."

Amaris stared at him, her eyes shifting between his. She thought about what she said, clearly remembering the only pronoun she used was in reference to Logan. "You know what I meant." Her retort sounded much darker than she intended.

Logan came back to the group before the door closed. This caused both Scott and Amaris to divert their attention back to the group. It was always a little nerve-racking to have to wait to hear about what Charles found, certainly now more than ever when they were trying to find Rogue. Amaris absent-mindedly rubbed her knuckles, staring at the door as Charles used Cerebro. Logan looked at her, narrowing an eyebrow. "What's with her?" He asked Storm, pointing to Amaris.

Storm looked at the younger woman and then back to Logan. "Her mutation causes her to have constant pain in her hands. When she gets nervous, she rubs her knuckles. It helps-"

"Alevite the pain?" Logan asked, finishing her question.

"Yes," Amaris responded, looking at the two of them. "I can answer your questions. I'm more than just the water boy for the team."

Scott, Jean, and Storm all looked shocked by her comment. Logan however nodded a little, pressing his lips together as he pointed his finger at her again. "I like you, you're funny."

Amaris looked up at him, grinning. "It's a phase, it will pass." She then looked back to the door as it opened up. Perfect timing in her opinion, yet the world worked on its own time.

Charles looked between the five adults as he told them his findings. "She's at the Westchester train station."

Logan was the first to speak up. "Where is it?"

"A few miles west of here" Charles replied, barely getting the words out before Logan turned around. He moved behind Storm, pressing a hand to the lower back of her back. It was a simple gesture, dismissing himself as he attempted to leave the group. However, Amaris could see the tiniest flush on her face as it happened. She didn't know if she felt happy for Storm, or to feel disgusted that her latest crush was potentially Amaris' biological father.

"Logan," called Charles. "You can't leave the mansion. It's the perfect opportunity Magneto needs." His words felt more like a plea rather than a command.

Logan turned on his heel, watching Charles. "I'm the reason she took off." There was a change in his tone. He hadn't sounded gruff as he normally did. He was justifying why Rouge left, and why he needed to leave the mansion. To find her. It was noble of him.

"We had a deal," Charles replied, ending any room for arguments.

Storm interjected the two men. "She's alright, she is just upset. Any teenage girl would do the same." Her looks shifted between Charles and Logan, wondering what was going to be the next set of words spoken.

Thankfully, it was Charles, who already had a plan. "Storm, Cyclops, find her. See if you can talk to her."

Amaris rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked down. A smile appeared on her face as she whispered. "As per the usual." Before anybody else could speak on the matter, she left. Ororo and Scott followed behind her, though not too closely. Jean walked near Charles, wondering what their next plan was. Logan wasn't sticking around for answers, leaving the two mind readers alone.

Scott and Storm went to their rooms to grab some jackets. Amaris stood in the main hallway after leaving the elevator. She couldn't continue to live her life like this, working on a team that protected mutants and humankind only to be left behind at the school to sit on the sidelines.

She heard the elevator door open behind her, turning to face the taller man wearing multiple layers of jackets. He seemed lost, pondering which way he was going. Amaris perked up, finding a way to play this into her hands. "Looking to make a jailbreak?" His eyes flickered to hers, arching an eyebrow. "You're secret is safe with me. I want to, after all."

"Is that so?" He asked.

Amaris nodded. "I'm just saying, if I wanted to get out of here, I might want to head to the end of this hallway, make two lefts, and enter the garage. Then I might want to look at the wall next to the door, where all of the keys are conveniently hung."

Logan stared at her, turning his head to the side as he listened to this information. "What do you get out of it?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing of material value. Maybe just the hope that I can go out there too one day, you know."

He nodded, watching her. "Hey kid," he placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling her from her daydream, "don't let the others push you around. You want to get out there, then throw yourself out there. You'll end up stuck in a place like this if you don't get out. After all, they can't keep animals in cages forever."

Amaris was a little shocked if she was being honest. She had avoided all contact with Logan after lifting him into the bed the previous night. She avoided one-on-one conversation with him. She even avoided him when others were present. To hear him speak like this gave her hope that maybe he was a good guy who would stay around.

Yet again, what would he stick around a place like here for? Her?

Certainly not her.

Logan turned to head down the hallway, calling back out to her. "Your secret is safe with me."

Amaris watched as he left, chuckling a little. Maybe he was right. Maybe she had to throw herself out there in order to be taken seriously. She was a caged animal, and she was ready to let loose.

Amaris followed suit behind Logan, against every fiber of her being. Defying a direct order from Charles went against the code of an X-Men. Charles had been family to her, a father figure if she had to pick one. She wasn't acting out to defy him or to slap him in the face. She was going to prove to Charles, Scott, and the rest of the team that she was much more than just an English teacher with bone claws.

Amaris entered the garage, grabbing a set of keys to one of the cars they had, watching as Logan mounted Scott's motorcycle. The two stared at each other, Amaris nodding her head to Logan before he smirked at her. He soon took off, the rumble of the motorcycle filling the garage as he left. She quickly found the car she was going to take, Jean's 2000 Dodge Viper, hopping into the driver's seat and following suit behind Logan.

A few minutes later, Scott and Storm entered the garage, walking towards Storm's car. The heel of her boots echoed on the ground as she approached her vehicle, though the absence of Scott's made her turn around. "What?"

Scott pointed to an open space in the middle of the garage. "Where's my motorcycle?"

The two looked around for a brief moment, then Storm spotted another open space. She hummed in thought, tilting her head slightly. "I would say on the same road as Jean's car."

Scott looked at the open spaces, then he made eye contact with Strom, approaching the passenger door. "Come on, something bad is going to happen with those two out there."

Storm opened the doors, turning the engine over as they pulled out of the garage. "If you ask me, it's been long overdue for Amaris to join us. She's been ready."

Scott shook his head, looking ahead. "We need to focus on finding Rogue first. Then we will deal with this mess."

Amaris parked beside Logan just as he got off the motorcycle. She stuffed the keys of the car into her pocket as she stepped up on the sidewalk. Logan looked at her as they walked toward the main gate. "Listen, lady, I don't need a babysitter."

Amaris chuckled a little. "You must be joking if you think I'm babysitting."

"Then what are you here for?"

The two walked through the front doors of the train station, filled with people walking around and talking rather loudly. "Like you said, an animal can't stay in its cage forever."

Logan gruffed, looking away from the younger woman before looking up at the train announcements and seeing which trains were going where. He pointed at one of them. "I have an idea where she is going. Just stay here and keep Patchy and Sunshine off my tail." He walked off, without saying another word.

"Logan! Logan!" She called out, though he refused to answer her. She knew she could stealthily hunt him down, as he had a rather distinct smell about him. However, he was right. Scott would show up furious about Logan taking his motorcycle. Storm would show up trying to find Rogue as quickly as possible. Then there was the matter of Amaris going against orders to do what she deemed fair and include herself in this little rescue mission. Knowing she didn't have many other options, the woman found a space near the entrance, ready to catch Scott and Ororo as soon as they entered the station.

It may have only been about ten minutes since Amaris and Logan had arrived at the station. She had no idea if Logan had still be there, or if he even found Rogue. The approaching footfalls indicated that she had at least been found. "What the hell were you thinking?" Scott asked, looking down at Amaris.

"The Professor told you to stay at the mansion." Storm calmly spoke, looking at her friend.

Amaris leaned off the wall, shaking her head. "He didn't tell me to stay behind. He told you two to go to the train station. He didn't tell me anything." She then looked to Scott, hiding her true intentions from him. Thank goodness they couldn't read her mind. "I heard your motorcycle taking off. I know you wouldn't have taken it since this is a rescue mission, so I followed behind it. I'm looking out for my teammates."

"You should have told one of us." Scott sneered.

"The longer you focus on this, the more time Rogue has to escape. We can worry about your one-sided lecture later. Let's find the girl, find Logan, and get out of here," commanded Amaris.

Ororo nodded. "She's right Scott. Magneto is looking for the perfect time to strike. This is it. We need to work as a team to find those two."

Scott turned away from Amaris, junior to him by six years. "Fine. But as soon as we get back to the mansion, I will be talking to Xavier about this."

Storm led the trio to the main hall of the station. "Scott, look around. I'll talk with the ticket agent. Amaris, be on the lookout for anything unusual."

Without much acknowledgment, the three separated. Storm walked up to the line at the ticketing booth, Scott took a position in the queue, looking around for the young teenager. Amaris found her way to the center of the room. Something had been off by this encounter, it didn't seem right. She smelled the air, finding a putrid smell. Standing in a train station that thousands of people traveled through daily wasn't an ideal space to locate the source of the smell. There was a little murky smell like something had been sitting in water for a long period of time.

Storm spoke with a ticketing agent, describing Rogue. "She is about seventeen. Uh, my height. She has brown hair and she-" She saw the agent's eyes begin to widen, hearing a man grunt behind her before turning to the sound of snarling. 

A gloved hand grabbed her up the neck, lifting her up and pinning her against the glass divider at the station. Another growl was heard before a whispered command was made. "Scream for me." Sabertooth then pushed Storm back against the glass cracking it.

Some people began to scream at the sight. "Scott!" Amaris called, beginning to rush over to Storm. He turned to look at the situation, though things turned into a dangerous situation. His visor was ripped from him quickly, too quick in fact. His eyes were open, causing him to use his optic blast power to blow a hole in the ceiling of the building, exposing it to the night sky. People were terrified now, running and avoiding rubble. Amaris spotted a little girl crying, no more than two. She watched as a piece of rubble began to fall. She quickly raced over, capturing the girl in her arms as she tucked and rolled, avoiding the rubble. Once up, she spotted an employee of the station. "Here," she ordered, handing the girl over to the employee. "Get out of here, quickly."

Amaris rushed over to Scott, making sure he was safe as he pinched his eyes closed. "Do you have a backup pair on you?" She asked loudly over the sounds of people screaming.

"No, I traded them out," he replied, now placing his arm over his face. "Where's Storm?"

Amaris looked up, seeing Storm still pinned to the glass. She watched as her eyes slowly clouded over. Within mere seconds, a thundercloud appeared and a thunderous bolt of lightning struck the mutant who held Storm. His body was sent flying across the station, through a brick wall. The glass partition shattered around Storm as she was let go and fell to the ground. 

Amaris watched as a second mutant jumped down from the ceiling, and then bounced through the new hole in the wall. "I'll get them!" Amaris exclaimed.

Scoot was quick to grab her arm, squeezing her elbow. "No, it's too dangerous to face them on your own. Don't give people more room to talk about mutants."

Storm rushed over to the two other X-Men, both women careful to help Scott. "Magneto is here, somewhere. I hope Logan has found Rogue."

Amaris looked at Storm, the same look in her eyes. "I hope so too." She looked at Storm, standing up as she pulled away from Scott. "They have to be on a train. I'm going to find them."

Scott shook his head. "which train? How will you know?"

"I'm going to assume it will be stopped on the tracks. If I hear people screaming, I know I have found the right one."

Meanwhile, on the train, Logan found Rogue. "Hey kid," he greeted her. Logan didn't really care much for others, though he found himself weaseled into the lives of others if they were kind to him. Rogue had found a little soft spot in his old, dark heart. He sat down next to her, seeing how her expression had changed. She seemed to try to pull herself away from him, as much as the seat would have allowed her. Her eyes darted away from him as she began to breathe a little heavily.

Logan spoke again. "I'm sorry about last night." He looked at her as he spoke, somehow speaking more calmly to her than before.

She was a little shocked, eventually meeting his gaze. "Me too." she cooed out, feeling embarrassed about the situation.

Logan smiled a little, nodding his head slightly. At least she is responding to me now.

"You running again?"

Rogue shifted her gaze from Logan to the empty seat in front of her. "I heard The Professor was mad at me." Rouge's southern accent was strong toward the end of her sentence, a sign Logan learned quickly as a way to tell she was emotional.

"Who told you that?" He quizzed.

Rogue looked back at Logan, sheepishly replying to him. "A boy at school." The look Logan made when she told him was something that made her instantly question her choice. "You think I should go back."

Logan looked away for a moment. His whole life, the parts he did remember, he had always been on the run. Either heading to or away from places, finding new lines of work to make money, or living in his trailer on his truck. He always was on the run. "No... I think you should trust your instincts." Advice he couldn't take himself.

Rogue didn't know how to take the advice given to her, in turn taking the time to tell Logan something from her past that haunted her. "The first boy I ever kissed ended up in a coma for three weeks." She paused, thinking about the bittersweet moment. "I can still feel him in my head." Logan furrowed his brows, wondering where she was leading the conversation. "And, it's the same with you." The teenager began to cry, feeling the warm salt deposits run down her face.

The man looked over at her. A part of him still hesitated to reach out for her, remembering a little too well about the events of the previous night. He may have been a fool, but he still had a heart. He carefully wrapped an arm around her, pressing his hand to the hood of her jacket, pulling her in for an embrace. He knew how much she needed it, to need that level of comfort. Rouge felt instantly warm inside, feeling just a fraction of what it felt like to be hugged again.

"There's not many people that'll understand what you are going through," Logan stated, looking down at her. "But I think this guy, Xavier, he's one of them. He seems to genuinely want to help you, and that's a rare thing... for people like us."

Rogue sat up a little, looking at Logan. She had stopped crying at that point, looking at his face to see if he was just pulling her leg. The train started moving, sending the passengers a little forward in their seats. This broke the hug between Logan and Rogue. He looked back at Rogue, smirking. "So what do you say? Give these geeks another shot?" He saw a flicker in her eyes, the quick grin that spread across her face. "Come on," he whispered. "I'll take care of you."

"You promise?"

Logan nodded. "Yeah, I promise."

It seemed the two had a plan. On the next stop, they would turn around and head back to the school. The sudden stop of the train threw them all off. Logan braced himself on the seat in front of him as the lights began to flicker. He was quick to stand up, looking at the back of the train car. Metallic sounds rumbled through the car. Slowly it was dismantled, and layers of the exterior were pulled apart. His eyes widened at the sight as a man appeared in the train car, floating toward him with a long billowing cape behind him. Logan turned to look at Rogue, signaling for her to remain hidden behind the seat.

As the man approached Logan, he unsheathed his claws, stirring the people near him as the pristine six claws appeared. The older man appeared a little jovial as he spoke. "You must be Wolverine." Logan made two steps towards him before finding himself frozen. The man used his hand as a conduit, freezing Logan in his place. "That remarkable metal doesn't happen to run through your body, does it?"

Logan couldn't move. His fear was apparent in his eyes, though he stared the man down before him. If looks could kill, the aggressor would be on his deathbed.

With a flex of his hand, magneto willed Logan's arms out to his sides, flexing his wingspan. He then began to bend Logan's claws at unnatural angles, pulling growls from deep into Logan's chest. With another gesture, Magneto raised Logan into the air, causing panic within Rogue. "Stop!" Her pleas fell on Magneto's deaf ears. "Stop it, please!"

Logan did his best to fight through the other man controlling his body, able to muster out one question. "What the hell do you want with me?"

"You?" Magneto chuckled, finding his question quite humorous. "My dear boy, whoever said I wanted you?"

Sudden panic set in when Logan forced himself to look at Rogue. Of course, he had wanted her. Why would anybody want Logan? Whether it be for good or nefarious purposes.

Magneto pointed at Logan, sending him flying back to the other end of the train car, knocking the man out. Rogue made a run towards Logan, though quickly subdued by Magneto. The man smirked, using his powers to pick her up and leave the train car.

Amaris had heard the sounds of metallic rumbling, following it as quickly as possible. People began running toward her, pulling loved ones as quickly as possible. She found the destroyed train car, hopping into it as quickly as possible. She bore her bone-shaped claws, though her efforts were in vain. Everybody had been gone. Everybody except for Logan.

When she heard his groaning, she retracted her bone claws, running up to the man. She bent down, moving some of his hair out of his face so she could look at him. He grabbed her hands, quickly pulling her up and pinning her against the wall. In a fit of rage, he believed her to be an enemy.

She growled back at him, causing him to blink away his confusion. In the midst of their little tussle, he had unsheathed his metal claws again, and she unsheathed her bone claws. He looked down at her hands, one pointed at him, the other resting at her side. His eyes were still clouded, though a vision came to him.

A woman sat in a bed, covered in blankets. She had a swaddle in her arms. He walked up to her, sitting by her side. "We still need to name her, Logan."

He chuckled, taking a seat in the chair next to the bed, and scooting it over to be as close to her as possible. "You remember the story about the moon and the wolverine?" He asked her as the woman shifted to look at him. She gave a slight nod, a few beads of sweat on her forehead. He looked out the window, seeing the reflection of the full moon shining down on them. "There is a full moon out tonight, you are my moon. It only makes sense."

The dark-haired woman giggled, "What makes sense?" she asked him.

Logan reached over, gently taking hold of the newborn girl. He was nervous as hell as he saw just how little she was in his hands. "To call her a child of the moon." He looked down at the baby, gently brushing his pinky finger over her cheek. "You are my pretty little girl, Amaris."

Logan retracted his claws, causing the girl to do the same. "What the hell?" He let go of her, taking a few steps back as the two animalistic mutants stared each other down. Amaris slid down the wall, using it as her backing as she stood to face him, wondering what his next move was going to be.

You are my pretty little girl, Amaris.

Amaris.

He was lost in thought, seeing his eyes glazed over. "Logan," Amaris called out, attempting to pull him out of his state. "Logan, where is Rogue?"

He turned around, looking at the destroyed train car, items scattered about ranging from coats to bags. He looked back at Amaris, his eyes softening briefly. "Magneto," He huffed, making eye contact with her again, those light brown eyes of hers. "He took her. He didn't want me, he wanted her."

Her jaw dropped slightly, her eyes widening. "I think I know where he's heading to. Come on." Amaris took a couple of steps forward, though Logan remained still. He blocked the only viable path on the destroyed train car. He looked down at her, inhaling the deep scent of her being. She smelled familiar to him, but he couldn't tell. Amaris stared up at him, being almost a whole foot shorter than he. He examined her, his eyes trailing over her features. He needed answers, but they also needed to find Rogue.

He turned around, watching his footing as he left the train car. Amaris felt an unsettling tightness in her chest. She had a pull in her heart, not caused by natural forces. She was feeling a yearning, for a part of her to be seen. Maybe this man was truly her father. How his presence, in only the twenty-four hours or so they have known each other, felt somewhat comforting.

No, she thought. We need to find Rogue.

Storm and Cyclops cleared out of the train station when Jean met up with them. She had given Scott another set of glasses. He was thankful to her, pressing a brief kiss to her cheek as the three adults left the ruined train station. "Over here, The Professor is in the car."

Storm spoke up. "Logan and Amaris are here somewhere, looking for Rogue."

"Amaris? Amaris is here?" The red-haired woman asked looking between the two.

Scott nodded in defeat. "She defied a direct order from Charles. She isn't ready for field work."

"Are you kidding? She saved that child from being crushed. She was quick to help you when your visor was stolen, and she jumped into action to help people and find the others." Storm countered as they made their way to an SUV.

Jean chuckled a little. "Sounds very heroic to me."

Scott didn't like their answers. He opened the door for the women to get in, but Jean ignored it and got into the driver's seat. Storm entered the car with Scott following in behind her. "I'm sorry sir." He addressed Charles.

Charles looked up in the mirror to look back at Scott. "This isn't your fault, young Cyclops. There were more nefarious pawns present in the game."

The X-Men and their leader watched as three people left through the main entrance of the train station. Police officers readied their weapons, aiming at the mutants who caused the havoc this evening. Magneto stood in the middle with Sabertooth to his right and Toad to his left. Toad held something over his shoulder, what could only be a person. Too heavy to be Logan, Charles was sure of it.

The police started to shout commands at the three. They were commanded to place their hands in the air. Erik observed the scene, complying with their demands. Though, in his typical fashion, he used his powers, levitating two police cars in the air. He flipped them over, then dropped them onto two more of the cars. He grinned as he witnessed their reactions, the majority of them scared and frightened. "As you should be," commenting to himself proudly.

The three mutants watched as the police officers began advancing on them, pointing their guns at them. "That's not very nice." Magneto had pulled their weapons from their hands, now pointing them at all of the officers, readying them for use. "You Homosapians and your guns," he tsked.

Sabertooth's hand reached over to circle around Erik's neck, causing him to pull his attention away. "That's enough, Erik" came the vocalizations of Sabertooth.

Toad, who held Rogue's body over one shoulder and proudly wearing Cyclops' visor on his head, turned to face Magneto. "Let them go."

Magneto turned his head to look at Toad as he pleaded. He was smarter than that, instantly knowing they were now in the presence of his once closest friend. "Why not come out where I can see you, Charles?" He called out to the crowd, wondering where he had been hiding.

Jean, Scott, and Ororo watched Charles as he spoke to Erik through Sabertooth. "What do you want her for?"

Magneto quipped back, "Can't you read my mind?" He gestured to his helmet, something Charles knew prevented him from peeking into Erik's mind. "What now? Save the girl?" Erik had always been two steps ahead. "You'll have to kill me, Charles. And what would that accomplish?" Charles listened to Magneto and focused on his concentration when connecting to Sabertooth and Toad. "You know if they pass that law, they will have you placed in chains with a number burned into your skin."

Charles spoke to him, trying to be a voice of reason. "It won't be that way."

Erik gruffed. "Do you want to find out? You must kill me." Charles remained silent, pondering Erik's logic. "No? Then let me go."

Charles took a different approach, focusing his connection deeper into Toad's mind. The mutant began to walk away from Erik and Sabertooth, a blank stare on his face.

Erik didn't like this one bit. He was always a man of action. He used his power to fire off one of the weapons, however stopping the bullet as it made contact to a man's forehead. His cries, along with the crowds, could be heard as the bullet slowly spun around causing a burn in his skin. "You're pressing your luck, old friend," Magneto called out to Charles.

Charles turned to look at Jean, sitting in the driver's seat. They listened are the many guns loaded themselves, causing a stir in the crowd. "He's powerful, but not powerful enough to stop all of the bullets." Jean pleaded with Xavier, understanding what she was saying would counteract their rescue mission.

Charles knew this wasn't the way he wanted this to go. he wanted to save Rogue and bring her back to the mansion, but to spill innocent human blood for the price of one mutant wasn't the best outcome. He slowly closed his eyes, releasing the hold he had over Sabertooth and Toad.

The two henchmen blinked slowly, coming back to their relatives. Sabertooth let go of Magneto's neck while Toad rejoined his boss.

A helicopter could be heard overhead. It didn't have any identifying signals on it, nor did it have police lights on it. "Professor," Storm spoke, watching as the three men walked to the helicopter as it landed in front of Magneto. "What do we do now?"

Charles inhaled a deep breath, watching the men load onto the helicopter before taking off. "We must find out what Erik has planned, quickly. With Rogue's powers, there is no way of telling what he has planned."

Amaris and Logan had watched as the helicopter left, guns falling to the ground as their ammo fell out. Amaris spotted the SUV, seeing Charles and the others inside. Charles looked at the young woman, sensing the shamefulness she bore inside. "Meet us back at the mansion, we must regroup," Charles spoke to her inside her mind.

She shook her head. "Come on, Logan. We need to head back."

He looked down at her, still shaking broken glass out of his hair. "And join those losers while Rogue gets taken away?"

She looked up at him, feeling a tear inside her. "Those losers are all I have. So, yes. We go back, figure out what he is doing, why he needs her, and then save her."

He saw that flash image again in his eyes, almost hearing a baby cooing in his mind as their eyes locked together. He breathed heavily, recovering from their run from their destroyed train car. "Who are you?" He asked brashly, not able to shake it from his mind.

She couldn't tell what he meant, or if he had been in a proper state to drive. His senses seemed intact, and she knew from their previous meeting he was nearly indestructible, able to heal from every wound imaginable. "I'm nobody." It was the only response she could think of at the time. Before he could react, she left him, making her way through the crowd of people to get to Jean's car.

I'm nobody, I've always been nobody.

Amaris beat Logan back to the mansion, carefully backing the Viper back into the garage. As she got out of the car, she was met by Scott, his arms crossed over his chest. Amaris huffed a little, not knowing how much more she could take. "I'd rather have this conversation with Charles. It's nothing against you. I didn't listen to him. It wasn't your orders."

After closing the car door, Scott watched her, dropping his hands to his sides. "You can't go galivanting around when you feel like it."

Amaris laughed a little, shaking her head at him as he spoke. "Again, it's been an amazing time, Scott, but I need to speak to Charles."

"After this." Scott closed the distance between the two, wrapping his arms around Amaris. She was shocked by the gesture, pausing for a moment or two. "Thank you."

Amaris wrapped her arms around Scott, closing her eyes for a moment, if anything to feel the moment. "Why?"

Scott patted her shoulder once, pulling out of the hug. "You saved the lives of many people tonight. You don't get enough recognition around here for your efforts as is. You did something dangerous tonight, something that would get us benched from the team. But you sprang into action without dictation. Things could have gone worse without you there."

Amaris looked up at him as he spoke. It didn't seem like something he would normally say. "When you showed up at the station, you looked like you were ready to rip my head off clean."

Scott chuckled, holding his stomach. "What big brother wouldn't do the same? I have to watch after my little sister." The two looked at each other, laughing after a moment of silence. He then wrapped one arm around her shoulder as they walked toward the door. "I can't protect you forever, certainly not against Charles."

She nodded, placing the keys back on their hooks. "I know, but it's my actions, and I need to face the consequences."

"Good luck," He commented as they entered the mansion. He let go of Amaris, watching as the younger woman walked before him.

She entered the main hallway of the mansion, seeing Jean and Charles standing in the center of the grand room. Here goes nothing, she thought to herself. She stopped in front of both Charles and Jean. She faced Jean first, "I'm sorry I took your car. I filled it up with gas before returning it where I found it."

Jean smirked, knowing there was no harm done in the action, though she certainly couldn't let Charles audibly know that. "I accept your apology."

Charles looked up at Amaris. "My girl, what you did went against the code of the X-Men. You left, alone, took another member's car, chased danger on your own again, and you could have easily been killed." He paused, gauging her reaction. Her face appeared soft with each remark he made. He leaned back in his wheelchair, breaking the silence. "You also nobly went on a mission to rescue Rogue, set your safety to the side to save the lives of children and adults, assisted Cyclops and Storm as they were attacked by Magneto's henchmen, and chased down Logan and Rogue to save them. All without direct orders from your team captain."

Amaris smiled a little at the end, though was quick to relax her face again. "I am sorry, Professor. I understand if you wish to remove me from the team. I will not go against your orders again."

Charles laughed, then smiled at Amaris. "Remove you from the team? Why would I want to do that?"

Amaris looked at him puzzled. Soon one of the older students stepped forward from a dark corner. "Amaris, I am moving you up to the A teams roster. You will also remain as my next team captain for the B team. Mr. Peter Rasputin will train with you in the next couple of years, once he finishes his schooling, to be your second in command."

Amaris looked from Charles to the student, then back to Charles. Acting quickly, she knelt down, wrapping her arms around Charles. "Thank you, Professor!"

Charles returned her embrace, smiling as she stood back up. "You demonstrated all of the qualities I search for when assembling my X-Men. Continue to set an example for our students. You very well may be teaching our next set of X-Men."

Amaris nodded, regaining her composure. "Yes sir."

Charles nodded. "Very well. Mr. Rasputin, please return to the dormitories. We have official X-Men business to conduct." Amaris and Peter made eye contact with each other, giving a simple bow of their heads before he left the group. Charles spoke up again. "For this to go right, we will need Logan's help. Rogue trusts him deeply. If we are to find Rogue and bring her back, Logan will be our key."

Amaris looked at Charles. "You're wrong Professor," she commented. "It's not a matter of if, it's a matter of when."

Charles chuckled. "Spoken like a true student."

The front door of the Mansion opened up. Logan came marching through, his leather coat in his hand as he shut the door, making his way in. Charles turned his chair to face him, noticing how his face looked. He could tell the taller man was angry. "You said Magneto wanted me. You lied."

"At the time, we were under the impression Magneto wanted you. After all, it was your truck that was destroyed, and you were tracked to Laughlin City." Charles replied.

Logan looked from Charles to Jean, then over to Amaris. He pointed a finger at her, speaking again. "Why did I hear your name in my head? Back at the train car?"

Amaris was puzzled as he spoke. "What do you mean?"

"Nah, don't play that shit with me, lady. What did you do to my mind?"

Charles waved a hand. "She didn't do anything to your mind, I can assure you that." He then looked at Amaris, giving her a knowing look. She nodded, knowing they couldn't put this off much longer. "I promised I would find you some answers to your past. I believe I may have already found something, without having to dive into your mind."

Logan looked at Charles, narrowing his eyes. "Why should I trust you, again?"

Ororo approached the three of them. "Because I've seen it too." She looked at Logan, her eyes turning soft. "We all have. It's your genetic testing."

"Let's go down to the lab. I have everything of yours pulled up." Jean added.

"Logan, there is something we need to show you," Charles stated, then turned his chair to head toward the elevators.

Amaris watched as Charles, Jean, and Logan began walking toward the elevator. Storm approached her. "Ororo?"

The woman smiled, "You think that I didn't add the two together?" She asked her friend, laughing a little. "Amaris, with abilities like that, and eyes like yours, it's hard to deny it."

Amaris' eyes grew a little wet, trying to suppress her emotions as Storm spoke. "How long?" she managed to whisper.

Storm reached out to move some hair that had fallen in Amaris' face. "Since the meeting yesterday. Scott, Jean, Charles, and I all spoke about it while you stared at those X-rays."

Amaris looked down briefly, feeling one single tear run down her face. "All my memories are here, within the mansion. I can't deny this is my family here."

Storm nodded, supporting who she would consider her best friend. "We still are, we still will be... But, Amaris," Storm held Amaris' face in her hands, wiping away a single tear. "He needs his family too."

The two women wrapped their arms around each other as Amaris felt the pull in her chest again. Her words were shaky as she spoke. "What if he wants nothing to do with me?"

Storm rubbed small circles on Amaris' back, soothing her. "That's impossible. He wants his memories back. He wants his life back. You are a part of that." After making sure she was fine to go, Storm let go of her. "Now let's get down there, and see just how much of a genetic match you two are."

Amaris wiped her face, then wiped her tears off on her pants. There was no time like the present. "The quicker we get this out of the way, the quicker we get to saving Rogue."

"That's the spirit!"

The two women made their way down to the lower floors, walking side by side as they met with Charles, Jean, Logan, and Scott in the debriefing room. Logan eyed Amaris as she walked in, noticing how she kept her distance from him, and mostly everyone else in the room. Jean spoke up. "Here are the x-ray slices of Logan's forearms." One side of the screen had his X-rays displayed, showing the metal skeleton and claws he had. She then displayed another slide. "These ones are Amaris'. As we can see, they both have two sets of claws, three, in each arm."

Logan looked at the X-rays, then back to Amaris. Jean then presented another slide. "This is Logan's genetic sequence." She then presented another slide next to it. "This one is Amaris'." They looked very similar to each other. "this is what they look like, laid over top of each other. Logan's is in blue, Amaris' is in yellow." the next slide showed their DNA laid over the top of each other's. "Everything in green is shared DNA."

Logan and Amaris both looked at the sequences as they moved over each other. Scott, Storm, and Charles remained quiet. "I have run your blood samples three times," Jean continued. "Logan... Amaris is your daughter."

Amaris could feel her eyes begin to water again. She slowly looked over to the six-foot two-inch tall man, somebody who towered over her. He looked at her, his brows furrowing. "No, no. That's impossible. I would have remembered if I had a kid. You're too old to look like my kid. I-I would remember."

Charles spoke up this time. "Didn't you remember, Logan? In the train car?" Logan looked at Charles, then back to Amaris. "I can look into both of your minds and see if I can unlock a portion of what has been forgotten."

Logan had been hesitant. "If this is a trick-"

Amaris shook her head. "It's no trick. Charles is a man of many talents, but tricking another to believe something like this," she gestured toward the x-rays and genetics on the slides, "he couldn't do. Not because of his abilities, but his morals."

Logan looked at the man in the wheelchair, letting his mind relax. He gave a brief nod to the older man. "Amaris, come here, please," Charles asked.

Storm patted her shoulder, causing Amaris to pick up her feet and move. Each step felt like she had been tied to cinder blocks. She met up with the two men as the others stood back. Charles placed two fingers on each of their temples, delving into their minds.

Flash images of their shared past flooded their brains. For Logan, he saw a pregnant woman holding her belly, then turning to her holding a baby. The baby lay down on his chest while he sat on a couch in a house. He watched as the baby aged up, taking her first steps, speaking her first words, and playing with toys at his feet.

For Amaris, she could now clearly see his face. Logan's face hadn't changed much from what he looked like now. He was speaking to her, as a baby, holding her, even dancing at one point with her on his hip and a woman embracing the both of them.

Logan, Amaris, and Kayla.

The three mutants were pulled out from their deep dive. Logan appeared shocked, his eyes widening at the discovery. His jaw dropped a little as he studied the girl in front of him. She looked like the woman he saw, had the same tanned skin and dark hair as her, yet her eyes... 

they were his eyes.

The room was silent, uncomfortably silent, as the two mutants stared at each other. Amaris saw Logan's face in her memories finally, being able to see him in that scene again.

"Daddy will come back for you, baby girl. I promise."

Logan shook his head, walking away from everyone. The others looked concerned, watching as he silently walked away from the group. Charles went after him, and Amaris was left feeling the aftershocks once again. This time, the tear felt as if she was pierced. Storm wrapped her arms around her friend before Amaris began to cry, sinking down to the floor as the unbearable weight of abandonment filled her again. She knew she wasn't ready for this conversation, and she trusted Charles with her secret. Ororo smoothed down Amaris' hair as she cried into Storm's shoulder. Jean placed a hand on Amaris' shoulder, and Scott supported Jean, standing by her side.

Charles blocked the elevator as Logan approached it. "Truth has its funny way of hurting."

Logan looked as if he was seething. "You must be sick if you think convincing me that the girl in there is my..." Logan couldn't quite get the images out of his head, or the words out of his mouth. "She can't be."

"Why can't she?" He asked him as the elevator doors opened up.

Logan remained silent for a moment, looking down at the man. "There is a girl out there with the world's most repulsed magnet. She needs our help." Logan made his way around Chares, getting into the elevator. "I'm doing this either with or without your help. Jedi mind tricks to the side. I'm going to find Rogue if it's the last thing I do."

He pressed the button of the elevator, closing the door. Charles groaned a little before Storm met up with him. "Is it true, Professor?" she asked him.

Charles nodded. "It is. Though, this was not how I thought things would go."

She nodded, looking at her mentor. "He will go after her again. We need his help to find her. If he goes alone, we won't have a fighting chance against Magneto."

Charles nodded. "Come with me. You and Logan seem to get along on the same level. Maybe you can help me ease his mind and get him to think logically."

She nodded, ready to find Rogue, though feeling sorry for Amaris and the events that played out.

Charles and Storm both stood in Logan's room. He ran water over his face, tracking it in his hair as he got himself ready to leave the mansion to search for Rogue. He wiped his face with a towel before turning to face the pair. Logan was still torn up about the events down in their briefing room, knowing they had lost precious time in recovering the teenager. "You said he wanted me," Logan repeated to Charles, grabbing his jean jacket and putting it on.

Charles looked at Logan, Storm standing behind him with her arms crossed. "I made a terrible mistake. Everybody makes them."

Logan chuckled as he adjusted the collar on his jacket and shirt. "Yeah, you have a funny way of making the wrong mistake at the wrong time, bub."

Logan grabbed his leather coat, walking past both Storm and Charles, giving her a look up and down as he approached the door of the bedroom. "How are you going to find her?" Storm asked him cautiously.

He paused in the doorway, putting on his leather jacket. "The traditional way: Look" he replied, then leaving the room.

Storm was quick to follow him, knowing the Professor would need time to get down to the main level of the mansion. The two mutants walked down the stairs. She called out to him, "Logan, you can't do this on your own."

Logan continued to walk away from her, approaching the front door. His tone became more gruff and jagged. "Who's going to help me, hmm? The X-Men? Give me a break. All you have managed to do is destroy a train station and zap a man with fangs and fur."

"Then help us. Fight Magneto with us." She offered, knowing it was the only solution they had.

She continued her approach, though Logan stopped in his tracks, turning around and closing the small gap between the two. "Fight with you? Be an X-Man? Fight with the one-eyed freak? You, the storm chaser? Who the hell do you think you are?" He asked her, having been through enough with the mansion's occupants in the last forty-eight hours. "We are mutants. The whole world out there has it out for people like us. They hate and fear mutants. You are just wasting your time, and for what? To protect them?" He shook his head, beginning to turn his body away from her. "I got better things to do than that."

He took a few steps away from her, before turning back. She looked stoic, something that was hardly seen in people. She had been taking the full front of his ranting, taking in each word he spoke. "You know, Magneto's right. There is a war coming... you sure you're on the right side, doll?"

Storm exhaled a deep breath, looking into those hazel-colored eyes again. "At least I've picked a side." Her voice remained easy, level as the face she projected.

Logan huffed, heading back for the door. Once it opened up, he was met with the site of a pale, sickly man, and Amaris.

She seemed out of breath, sweaty herself. She looked up at Logan, then painfully over to Storm. "It's Senator Kelly. He needs help." The man began to collapse, both Amaris and the senator falling into the arms of Logan. Storm raced over to help them.

"Let's get him down to the lab. Amaris, get Jean." Storm commanded.

Logan let go of Amaris, the two looking at each other again. He then followed Storm's order, helping her get the man down to the lab.

Amaris shut the main door of the mansion, then quickly off to find Jean. Amaris had found the doctor in the kitchen with Scott. "Jean, we need you in the lab. Senator Kelly is here."

Scott jumped up. "What's that scumbag doing here?"

Jean stood up too, looking at Amaris. "Something bad has happened to him. He smelled like radiation. Like, a lot of radiation."

Jean brushed past Amaris, going directly to the lab. Scott looked at Amaris, examining her face. She was drenched in sweat, her cheeks looking a little puffy. "What happened to you?"

She looked up at him, finally recovering her breath. "I went running. I saw a figure entering the driveway, and I bolted after them. I found Senator Kelly, and I knew he needed help."

Scott nodded, looking down at her. "Go take a shower super quick. I'll go down to the lab and see what's going on."

She nodded, no longer in the mood to fight with anybody. She left to go to her room, ready to be changed out of the clothes she had been in and into something a little cleaner.

The X-Men had been called into a meeting in Charles' office. Scott, Jean, Logan, and Amaris had been there. "The machine emits radiation," Charles began to explain, "that triggers mutation in ordinary humans."

Jean spoke up. "The mutation is unnatural. Kelly's body is rejecting it. All of his cells are breaking down."

Logan paced the room, listening and observing each of the people in the room. Scott and Jean sat next to each other on a couch. Charles faced them, as one would do in meetings. Logan paced behind the couch, while Amaris stood next to a bookshelf, opposite of the others. She didn't take up much room, crossing her arms over her chest, keeping her frame tight, as if needing to plan a quick escape.

"What effect does radiation have on mutants? Should we be worried?" Scott asked both Jean and Charles.

"There appears to be none," Charles explained. "Though I do fear it can seriously harm any normal person exposed to it."

Amaris watched out of the corner of her eye as Logan stopped pacing, looking at Charles as he explained what he found in Senator Kelly's mind. "What does Magneto want with Rogue, then?"

Charles sounded defeated as he replied. "I don't know."

Logan huffed, moving off the wall and heading to walk out of the office.

"Wait a second," came the voice of Amaris, taking a few steps forward to meet with the group. "You said this machine draws its powers from Magneto, right?" Charles, Jean, and Scott looked at her as she spoke. "And this weakened him."

Logan paused as if he had already been connecting the dots. Charles nodded, "Yes" he pondered, thinking over the events he saw. "It nearly killed him."

Logan turned to face the group. "He's going to transfer his power to Rogue and use her to power the machine." He looked at Amaris, the first time they had looked at each other since they had their previous meeting, then at Charles. The three of them had a knowing look, having found that final puzzle piece.

Meanwhile, down in the lab, Storm had been observing Senator Kelly. He called out in the darkness of the room, "Is somebody there?"

Storm's heels clicked against the ground as she approached him, hesitant at first. "Yes, I am here." As she approached the exam table, he reached out for her, his hand grabbing hers.

"Please, don't leave me," he pleaded. "I don't want to die alone."

Storm nodded, looking down at him nervously. She was bothered by his skin, though she didn't show it on her face. His skin felt wet, and every vein in his body could be seen. They were a bright blue color, exposed through his nearly transparent skin tone. His breath was labored, breathing what Storm believed were going to be his final breaths. She then looked confused, hearing the sounds of running water. That was when she noticed pools of water forming at his shoulders.

Kelly spoke up, his voice coarse. "Do you hate normal people?" Maybe out of desperation, he needed to know how his life measured to the ones he wanted to bring down.

Storm had no reason to lie to a dying man. "Sometimes." She spoke, a light accent could be heard.

"Why?" he asked sheepishly.

Storm struggled for a minute to find the right words, as the sounds of moving water increased in volume. "I suppose I'm afraid of them. What they can do to me."

Kelly grinned a little in shock, his voice shaky as he spoke. "Well... I think you've got one less person to be afraid of." He struggled to get out. He then smiled up at her, only briefly. The water increased as Kelly's face, arms, and legs began to disappear in a pool of water. It took nearly a minute before the man in front of Storm until into a huge pool of water.

Storm was quick to leave the lab, running and making her way to Charles' office. When she walked in, she sounded a little out of breath, her hand and shoes were still wet. "Senator Kelly is dead."

Charles's face glazed over briefly as the others looked at Storm. He had to get his mind right, thinking about their next step. "Cyclops and Amaris, go prepare the jet. Storm, Jean, suit up. Jean, also get Logan a uniform."

Logan looked at Charles as Scoot stood up. "Professor, are you sure this is a good idea? He will only endanger the mission."

Logan chuckled a little, "Yeah, I wasn't the one who gave the train station a new sunroof, pal."

Scott stared Logan down. "No, you were the one who stabbed Rogue through the chest."

Amaris spoke up. "Is this what we are doing? Petty jabs at each other? There is a teenager out there that we obviously all care about and need to save. There is a machine out there capable of activating dormant mutations in humans, that will kill them."

"That's enough, out of all of you." Charles calmed the room, looking at the two men in the room. "I'm going to find Rogue. Everybody does as they are told. Scott, Logan, settle this."

Charles left the room, Amaris quick to follow behind him. She was ready to do her part, and most importantly, stay out of Scott and Logan's way. "You must keep a level head when you go out there. Any moment of deviation from your mission means life or death. Keep your guard up." Charles coached Amaris as they entered the elevator. "I know you will have their backs when you are out in the field. However, you can not focus on where everybody is at the same time. Stay guarded, and help the others."

Amaris nodded, looking over at them after they exited the elevator. "Yes, Professor."

Amaris walked over to the locker room area, quickly finding her uniform and changing into it. She was glad she took that shower, knowing sweat and leather suits didn't mix well. Xavier entered Cerebro, intending to find Rogue. She didn't take long, changing into the black leather suit, hers having a rusted orange line. She adjusted her gloves, making sure her claws would come out without damaging her or the suit.

She walked out to the main hallway when she heard the door open. "I'll go start getting the-" She looked up, seeing Charles down on the floor, passed out. She pressed a panic button to warn the others as she rushed to his aid. She checked his pulse and then his breathing, making sure he was still alive. Once she established that, she carefully picked up the man, took him to the lab, and set him down on a clean exam table.

Thankfully Jean and Storm had been the first to meet up with her. "What happened?" Jean asked, the two women starting to hook him up to a chest monitor and a brain wave monitor.

Amaris shook her head. "I don't know. He went into Cerebro, he was maybe in there for five minutes. The doors opened up and I found him on the ground. I called for you guys and then I got him set up on the table."

Storm looked at Amaris, offering a light smile despite the situation, "You did the right thing."

Amaris stood back as Storm and Jean worked on Charles. Scoot and Logan both arrived too. The men looked at the older gentleman, hearing the constant sound of the monitors beeping, indicating he was alive.

After what seemed like half an hour, Logan approached Scoot, never meeting his gaze. "I'm sorry," He muttered, then left the lab.

Scott was fighting the emotions that could easily be felt in the room. Jean was focusing more on what the cause was, while Storm remained in the moment watching Charles and holding his hand. Amaris had left the room, taking some time to herself in the courtyard outside of the main door.

Logan had been there too, having just stumbled upon her. He ran a hand through the back of his hair before taking a seat next to her. She looked over at him before resting her forearms on her knees, looking down. She held a cigarette between her index and middle finger, tapping the ashes away.

"I thought you didn't smoke." Logan looked up, seeing the full moon they were currently under. He had always marveled at the moon, feeling almost bonded to it. "She was right. You did everything right."

Amaris raised an eyebrow, sitting up and looking over at the man to her side. The man she had found out that evening was her biological dad. "If I did everything right, then why did he go down?"

Logan signed a little, dropping one hand to his lap as he smoked a cigar. "Jean is trying to find out the reason. She thinks it has to do with Cerebro." He looked over at her, seeing how concerned she had been about the man they all came to love and care about. Hell, even Logan himself found something warm about Charles Xavier. "It's not your fault, kid."

Amaris looked up at the moon. She chuckled a little, thinking about some wonderful memories. "Before my powers became known, I used to sneak outside and stand in the moonlight. Charles would come and find me, asking why I was outside." She looked down, wiping a hand over her face before looking over to Logan. "I always told him I was made from the moon. The moon and I were one."

Logan looked at her, taking a long puff of his cigar, and holding the smoke in before exhaling it. He didn't know what he should do. Acknowledge her story, remain silent and move on, find a way to tell her that he couldn't get the images out of his brain of what Charles had shown him, from his past.

From their past…

Amaris looked away, looking down at her hands. "I want to kill Magneto and every pathetic worm that does his dirty work." Her jaw clenched as she flexed her fingers, working out an imaginary knot in the palm of her hands. "But it's not the way Charles would want. I would be no better than Magneto."

Logan snickered. "Or those pathetic worms that work for him." He smirked when it brought a chuckle out of Amaris. "Look, he wouldn't have put you on the team if he didn't think you were like Magneto. It's obvious that you know what you are doing."

Amaris leaned her head back, taking a drag from her cigarette, letting the smoke billow out of her mouth. "Most of my students still don't know what my power is. Yet, I always tell them they should never be ashamed or afraid to use their powers."

Logan nodded, looking over at her. "So why do you hide them?"

A grin etched her lips as she responded. "I'm afraid of losing them. Just because I can heal from scratches and burns easily doesn't mean I can regrow by bone claws." She felt it was a valid reason to give.

Though in Logan's eyes, it wasn't a proper answer. "Fear works against you. Humans fear mutants. Mutants fear humans. To be afraid of yourself, that doesn't make sense." He took the last puff of his cigar, tossing the extinguished butt into the bush behind him after making sure it was out. "What does make sense is using your gifts to save people's lives and prove to Xavier again and again about your worth and value."

Amaris looked up at Logan as he spoke, her brows furrowing. It had been their first real conversation, and it had been meaningful, to the both of them.

Storm raced up to find the duo together on the bench. "Sorry to interrupt, but Jean fixed Cerebro. She knows where Magneto is and what he plans on doing. We need to leave, now." She then looked at Amaris' hand, placing a hand on her hip. "Amaris, those things will give you cancer."

Amaris stood up, using the palm of her hand to extinguish the cigarette, gritting through the momentary pain. "I can't get cancer, remember?" She flipped her palm over, showing the burn healed within a matter of seconds. She then discarded the cigarette in the same bush Logan used, knowing she would have to clean it up later.

Logan cackled a little, finding the younger woman's sense of humor welcoming. Storm had approached him with a uniform, handing it over to him. He raised an eyebrow as he looked down at it. "You can't be serious. You want me to wear that?"

Storm corrected him, "Charles wants you to wear this."

Once Logan took hold of the suit, the women left him, re-entering the mansion. He looked down at his, his calloused hands running over the leather. He had fought the entire time he had been in the mansion, with the others, with himself. Now he had a chance to do what he said he was going to do. Find Rogue, bring her back to the mansion, and make sure she is looked after.

Now the stakes were different, no matter how much he wanted them to be different.

Scott and Jean were the only two not in their uniforms yet. Amaris, Storm, and Logan were in theirs as they circled around an interactive table. Scott led the meeting, in Charles' place. 

"Magneto is at Liberty Island. Now, we presume his objective is to mutate the world leaders at the U.N summit on Ellis Island." As Scott spoke, the material on the table moved around, projecting the buildings of the Statue of Liberty and the buildings on Ellis Island.

Storm watched the table, then looked at the others. "He doesn't know that his machine kills." She shifted her weight as she continued on. "Just judging from what the Professor saw, if Magneto gave Rogue enough power-"

The table changed scenes again, displaying a shift in the city. "He could wipe out everyone in New York City," Jean concurred.

Logan looked from the table to Scott, observing everybody in between. "We should land the jet here," Scott said, pointing to the backside of Liberty Island.

Amaris looked at the structures in place. "We can fly in under the George Washington Bridge, follow the bank next to Manhattan. It would make for a better access point and flight pattern instead of flying over it and then landing the jet." Scott looked up at Amaris, his jaw dropped slightly as he was surprised. "What? I've studied the flight patterns of the Black Bird. It's a solid plan."

Logan looked at the model, thinking they had forgotten about something. "What about harbor patrol? Radar?"

Scott shifted his focus to Logan, smirking. "If they have any technology that can detect us, then they deserve to catch us."

Jean nodded. "I'm going to check the Professor one more time. We need to leave in the next ten minutes."

"I'll get the jet ready. Who knows what we will meet with once we get there." Amaris backed away from the table, thinking about the many things they could run into.

"Make sure we have enough medical supplies on board. We can't afford to lose anyone today." Storm commented, looking over at Amaris and giving her an approving nod.

"That includes the Professor," Logan added, looking between Jean and Scott.

All of the X-Men left, heading to different areas to begin preparing for their mission. Scoot, Storm, and Jean had all been on missions together before. It was the first time Amaris was going on one. Logan had only known the five other adults for less than two days and he was already trusted with fighting alongside them under their group's name. It was either their mistake or his saving grace.

Only time will tell.

Once everybody had been ready, they boarded the jet. Scott and Storm sat in the pilot and co-pilot chairs. Jean sat behind Scoot, Logan sat behind Storm, and Amaris sat behind Jean. Logan fiddled with the zipper of his suit, adjusting the neckpiece and fixing the dog tags he wore under his suit.

The jet began to whirl with sounds as the navigation systems, flight systems, and airlock systems activated. Logan could still be heard adjusting his suit. "You actually go out in these things?" He asked, not really expecting any type of response.

Scott looked back at him, a hint of sarcasm lingering in his tone. "What would you prefer? Yellow spandex?"

Amaris chuckled, adding, "He looks like the white suit jacket type of guy to me." This earned a glance from Logan, watching her as she had her fun. He shook his head, turning forward again before looking at his hands. A metallic snikt could be heard as he used his claws, making sure he would be able to use them. Amaris' smile faded as she saw the claws, remembering how they came to be. No mutant should have to go through that, no matter if he remembered it or not.

Once all of the systems were online, Scott pressed a few buttons. The roof over the jet opened up, moving the basketball court through a sliding panel. Once everything was clear for them, they lifted the jet up, leaving the underground hangar and hovering over the school. The basketball court closed again before they took off, heading toward Liberty Island.

It didn't take that long for them to navigate to New York City, flying well above the helicopters that circled around the harbor. The Mansion was only located an hour and a half north of New York City, but the jet was fast, making the trip around twenty minutes. Just enough time for everybody's ears to pop.

The bridge came into view as Scott began to descend toward the water. They flew under the bridge, turning on their cloaking device to disguise the jet. "Storm, can you give us some cover, please?"

The white-haired woman's eyes clouded over as fog began to fill in the harbor area. It was easy for them to navigate the fog as Cyclops pressed a button, changing their view to outline Liberty Island and all of the objects in front of them. Scott navigated to the back of the island, as he had planned in the meeting. He began to turn the engines off on the jet as they lowered closer to the ground. For a brief moment, the jet fell, clashing against the water. Everybody in the jet stirred at the sudden jolt, pulling a quick apology from Scott.

Logan stared at Scoot as the jet was then completely powered down. "You call that a landing?"

Amaris was the first to get out of her seat. She opened the jet door, exiting as Jean, Logan, Storm, and Scott followed her. The X-Men were careful, traversing Liberty Island as they jumped over barriers and examined the area. The two men made their way to the front of the group, figuring out their next steps. Scoot looked up at the Statue of Liberty, pondering for a moment. 

He then looked at Logan. "The torch. It's the highest point on the island."

"Makes perfect sense," Amaris commented. "Magneto wants to watch as he destroys the world leaders. That is his vantage point."

Jean nodded as she looked up. "Rogue's there. I can feel her."

"What are we waiting for?" Logan asked, quickly leading the group up to the doors of the museum. He let the others go in front of him, knowing the place would have metal detectors. Scott, Jean, Amaris, and Storm all crossed through the arch with ease. There had been a monitor on the security desk, and a news report about the U.N meeting was playing, filling the empty museum with sound. As Logan passed, an alarm began to ring. He used his claws, slashing the machine and disarming it and the alarm. Sparks and light filled the air next to the man as the electricity was cut. The others looked back at Logan, though Scott snickered. Logan retracted two of his claws, using the middle claw to flip Scott off. This earned a laugh from the leader of the group before Logan joined them.

The group began to walk through the museum, though Amaris was quick to pick up on a feeling. She smelled the air, unable to place where this other presence was. "I don't think we are alone."

Logan stopped, smelling the air as well. "There's someone here." He agreed, his eyes darting around. He sniffed again as his body shifted.

"Where?" Scott asked, ready to defend his group.

Logan was quick to respond. "I don't know. Keep your eye open," he half jabbed at Scott before walking away slowly, hunting the presence he and Amaris detected.

"Logan," Scott replied firmly back, earning a wave of Logan's hand. "Damn it." he cursed under his breath, watching him leave the group.

He turned around to look at the others. Amaris looked as if she had been picking up on something in the opposite direction of where Logan was headed. Then something else caught her senses. They all watched Logan appear in front of them again. Amaris had this uneasy feeling about the man's presence, taking a few steps forward. "Anything?" Scott asked as Logan walked toward him.

"I know somebody here. I just can't see them." Logan avoided all eye contact with the group, something that threw Amaris off. It wasn't like him. Except it couldn't have been Logan. He didn't smell the same. Amaris bore her bone claws at the same time the sound of the metal ones was unsheathed. Suddenly another Logan appeared, grabbing his doppelganger and tossing them into a room next to the group of people.

The two Logan began to fight, tossing each other against the floor and walls. Scott brought a finger up to his visor, readying himself for a shot. As the others approached them, both Logan had their claws extended out, waving their arms in front of them.

"Wait!" They exclaimed in unison.

One of the two Logans had sliced at a weight on a wall, closing the metal door before the other lunged at him. The sounds of two men fighting with each other echoed from the other side of the wall. A distorted woman's shriek could be heard on the other side of the door. "It's Mystique," Amaris spoke.

"Back up, back up!" He told the women, standing guard in front of them.

Amaris turned around. "Where are you?" She called out, smelling his dirty musk again. She knew she could smell someone else in their presence.

A man came flying through the air. Amaris ducked as he aimed for her. Though unluckily for the others, Scoot took the brunt of the attack, having been kicked into a display. Toad then kicked both women to the side as he faced Amaris. The mutant used his long, green tongue to shut a door to prevent Scott from interfering with his plans. Amaris had her claws out again as she stared down the man. "Do you need recommendations for a dentist?" She quipped, ready to battle with him.

The man tilted his head at her, a sinister grin spread across his face. He then spit at her, a sticky, yet hard, substance covered her eyes. She groaned, trying to claw away at it with her fingers, leaving her to stumble around blindly. He then looked at Jean, spitting the same substance at her. This time, it covered her mouth and nose, preventing Jean from breathing.

He used his tongue again to attack Storm, picking her up by an ankle and tossing her to the second floor. He felt pleased with himself, only momentarily though as Amaris turned to face him. She had still been blinded, though she began to rely on her other senses to give her direction. The man of few words began to dance, almost literally to her, using his footsteps to trick her. Amaris swung one of her hands toward where she thought he had been, instead, wrecking another display case.

Storm peered over the guard rail, looking down at Toad. The man laughed, beginning his next chase with his next victim. He ran down the hallway, then relying on his abilities, he jumped up to the second floor with ease, causing Storm to find a way to give herself some space between the two of them. Everything remained silent for a moment, outside of Jean's attempts to get the acid off her face, Amaris' struggles with breaking glass, and the sounds of Logan fighting with Mystique.

Toad flipped in the air, kicking Storm back into a display of the island, knocking the stand and figures off its display and onto the floor. Storm grunted as she was kicked backward, rolling off the table as quickly as possible. As she stood up, she had been kicked again, harder this time as she flew through the air. Her back collided with a concrete wall before sliding down an empty elevator shaft. Toad walked to the open doors of the elevator, looking down and smirking at her crumbled body.

He kicked the bar he had placed at the doors, catching it and turning away so the doors would close. He spun the stick around in the air, then bowed to his electric performance.

Below on the second floor, a controlled blast was heard. Scott escaped the room he was stuck in, quick to find Jean struggling to breathe. She had laid down on the ground, supporting her back against a wall. "Don't move." Scott looked down at her, lowering his blast level before zapping the acid off of her face.

Jean took in some rapid deep breaths, polling oxygen back in her lungs. Amaris could be heard in the next exhibit over, battling with her sense of direction. He kept scratching her face, fingers and claws in use. There had been dried blood on her face from how deep she had scratched herself. Jean and Scott found her, keeping her distance. "Amaris, stop. Let us help you." Jean spoke, looking at the younger woman.

Amaris snarled at first, glancing over to the sound of her voice. "How do I know it's you?"

Jean spoke in Amaris' mind. "Even Mystique couldn't use my telepathy powers."

Both Scott and Jean watched as Amaris relaxed, putting her natural weapons away. Scott blasted the acid off of her face. Amaris took a step back as she absorbed the blast, wiping away the pieces of acid that fell from her face. She watched the both of them, nodding. "Where's Storm?"

An elevator could be heard dinging, announcing its presence. Rumbling thunder could be heard as the doors opened up. Toad turned around to see the woman floating in the air, her eyes were glazed over and her hands were spread to her sides.

Toad began to approach her. "What will it take for you people to die?!" He lined himself up with Storm, though his plans were foiled as gale-like winds kicked up behind her, sending the rest of the displays flying out the window and deck behind him. Toad tried battling the wind, though his efforts were in vain as a display collided with him, sending him outside.

Storm walked out of the museum onto the desk, graceful as she continued to bend her powers to her will. Toad used his tongue to anchor himself on a metal railing as she continued to weather-based assaults. "Do you know what happens to a toad when it's struck by lightning?" She asked him, raising her head up towards the sky. The ends of her hair appeared electrified as little lightning bolts bounced off of them. A dark cloud hovered above the torch, and a thunderous clap of thunder followed. Storm looked back at Toad, smirking. "The same thing that happens to everything else."

A bolt of lightning shot down, connecting to the metal railing. It fried Toad and his tongue, sending the remains of the man backward as he let go, the wind throwing him into the cold waters of the harbor. Storm smirked, releasing her hold on the wind and lightning before turning around and reentering the museum.

In another section of the museum, Logan stood in a room, observing his surroundings. He knew that Mystique couldn't have gone far. "Logan, is that you?" Storm asked as she joined him in the room.

"Shh." He commanded, keeping his guard up. He remained facing away from her as he used his skill set to try and figure out where his current enemy was. "The other one ain't far away."

Storm slowly approached him. "Come on, we need to join the others." She called to him, placing one hand on his upper bicep.

Logan sniffed the air again.

Target identified.

"I know. There's only one problem." He turned around almost instantly, using his claws and piercing Sorm through her abdomen. She groaned, her eyes widening as she stared at Logan's face. "You're not one of the others."

Logan let go of her, watching as her eyes began to shift from white to yellow. Her hands produced metallic claws as she crumbled to the floor. Her skin changed from Storms darkened skin tone to an unnatural blue state. White hair turned red, and a strange pattern etched itself into her skin. Logan watched as the woman fell in front of him, wounded by his claws, pressing his eyebrows together as he watched her. He wanted to make sure she was dead. After she remained still for a while, Logan left to head back for the others.

Scoot, Jean, and Amaris were all together, picking up where they had left off on their hunt for Magneto and Rogue. The door that had closed earlier opened up, and Logan appeared. Scott placed a finger over the button on his visor, ready to use it.

Logan waved his hands up looking at the three of them. "Woah, woah. It's me." He tilted his head to the side.

Jean stayed back behind Scott. Amaris pulled her hands into fists as Scott observed him. "Prove it."

Logan shrugged his shoulder, keeping his hands up. "You're a dick."

Amaris was the first to relax as Scott took a moment to analyze the answer. He then nodded, lowering his hand. "Okay." Logan felt relieved, relaxing his hands before looking over at Amaris. He could hear the pounding in her chest, having wondered what happened to them while he was busy playing with a mutant-like Barbie doll.

Storm interrupted the conversation, speaking to them over the second-floor landing. "Hey, you need to come see this." She spoke, nodding up for them to follow her. Scott and Jean were the first to head toward the nearest staircase. Amaris and Logan looked at each other, a pastime of theirs as of late. They both nodded to each other, silently communicating they were fine, before following the footsteps of the others.

Minutes later, the team ended up in the stairwell of the torch. Scott led the team up, ready in case they were met with trouble. Behind him was Jean, then Storm, Logan, and Amaris. The five of them stopped as they looked up to the top of the torch.

Logan's voice cut through their silence. "Everybody get out of here."

"Why?" Storm asked.

"I can't move." His body slowly turned, then was forcefully pulled up to the ceiling of the room they were in. He grunted as he tried to move.

A piece of metal began to move, pulling Storm to the opposite wall. Scott tried to blast the metal, by was foiled when he was pulled to another part of the wall with Jean following him.

Amaris was the only one standing in the middle of the room. She looked at the others, knowing her powers weren't going to be of much use to help them escape.

Magneto appeared, floating in through an opening. "My brothers, my sisters. We meet again." He looked up to Logan, smirking darkly. "Let's point those claws away. For safety reasons of course." Magneto raised his hand, using his power to manipulate the metal around Logan and inside of him. His arms were raised, crossing over his chest with his knuckles pointed to his chest, a metal bar covering his arms so he couldn't move. Magneto then looked at the young woman in the center of the room. "My, I didn't think Charles let precious little students out of his sight."

Amaris stared at him, afraid to move herself. "I'm not as young as you think I am, old man." A brave little lie, with a bigger bark than a bite.

Magneto chuckled. "My, what a temperament you have. Somebody ought to teach you a lesson about back-talking your elders."

A roar could be heard as Sabertooth jumped down, landing behind Erik. He stared at Amaris as the others helplessly looked on.

Magneto turned his attention to Scott. "If I were you, I'd close my eyes." Sabertooth crossed the room and picked the visor off of Scott's face.

Scott shut his eyes tightly, taking in a deep breath. "Storm, I think now's a good time for a lightning show."

"We can't Scott," Amaris spoke. "We are in a copper room. One little hint of a spark will end up frying all of us."

Magneto nodded, looking down at her. "Pretty and smart. I guess you can have the best of both worlds."

Logan sneered. "Stay the hell away from her."

Magneto looked at Logan, seeing a vein expand in his forehead. "It seems I've struck a nerve with this one." He turned to face Sabertooth, then hinting to the girl.

Amaris was no match for the much taller mutant. He grabbed her in a headlock, making sure she wouldn't move. Amaris was lifted into the air, holding onto the furball's arms as he held her closely.

Jean spoke up, watching Magneto out of the corner of her eye. "Senator Kelly found us."

Magneto looked at her, taking a step toward her. "He survived his fall, hmm? And the swim to shore? What a lucky man. He has much more power than what I could have ever imagined."

"He's dead." Jean bluntly stated.

Storm added, "It's true. I watched him die." Magneto shifted his gaze from Jean, now approaching Storm as she looked at Magneto. "The same will happen to all of those people down there, and in the city."

"Are you sure about that?" he questioned her. He walked away to stand next to Sabertooth, holding Amaris as she struggled to breathe under Sabertooth's hold on her. "Why can't you all and Charles see what I am trying to do? Huh? Why are we allowing humans to control our fate? Mutant lives can not be held in the hands of human leaders."

Logan stared at Magneto as he spoke, catching himself eyeing Amaris. His Amaris. His little girl.

"Help! Please, somebody, help me!" Came the long-awaited voice of Rogue, pleading for her life, sobbing through her cries for help.

Logan looked back down at Magneto. "You're so full of shit," He started, venom slipping into his words. "You want to be the righteous one to save us all, it should be you in that thing. Not a teenager who hasn't lived her life yet."

Rogue's cries continued to fill the room as fireworks began to fill in the background. Magneto looked away from Logan, then at Sabertooth. "Any sign of resistance from any of them, kill the girl." He then left, floating out of the room.

Logan’s heart began to beat rapidly, hearing the screams of Rogue and choking sounds Amaris made under Sabertooth’s hold. It was all too much, and knowing he had a plan to get out of his situation, he prepared himself for the pain. Logan yelled, tightening his tendons and releasing his claws into his chest. The six metal claws penetrated his lungs, killing him. Because his metal skeleton was so heavy, his frame bent the copper, causing him to fall to the ground.

“Logan!” Jean called out watching as he fell.

The grip on Amaris' neck became tighter. Her hands clawed at his arm as he suspended her in the air. Scott was defenseless, breathing heavily as he listened to the cries of Rogue and the choking sounds of Amaris. Jean wasn't powerful enough to get into Sabertooth's mind to release his hold on her. Storm Wouldn't have been able to use her powers without causing them all damage.

"What do you get out of this, Fido?" Amaris asked between gasps of air, trying to avoid eye contact with all parties.

Sabertooth looked down, smiling a predatory-like grin. "You think you're so funny. How funny do you think it will be when your friends watch you die."

"She did nothing wrong to deserve this," Storm called out.

Sabertooth walked up to Storm, making sure the woman saw the fear in young Amaris’ life. "You still owe me a scream, pet." Sabertooth took a step back, looking into Storm's eyes. In a quick motion, he snapped the neck of Amaris, dropping her lifeless body to the ground. Storm screamed, wiggling against her restraints as she watched Amaris fall.

Sabertooth turned his attention back to Logan, walking to stand over his corpse. Though Sabertooth could tell something was wrong. He bent down to pick the other man up. Logan was quick to stand up, sinking one set of his claws into Sabertooth’s chest. He caught the sight of Amaris on the ground, her head bent at an awkward angle. He tried to listen for her heartbeat.

Except it didn’t beat.

Logan’s face pulled together, yelling as as Sabertooth pushed Logan out of the room onto the crown of the statue. He rolled backward, catching himself before he fell, looking down at the ground hundreds of feet below him.

Sabertooth grabbed one of Logan’s feet, pulling him back. Logan kicked at Sabertooth, disorienting the man. He recovered quickly, throwing Logan across the head of the statue. Logan recovered, unsheathing his claws again. “You killed my girl. I’m coming for your god damn head.”

Sabertooth roared again before the two exchanged blows, almost dancing around one pivotal spot on the the top of the statue’s head. Their grunts and roars filled the room below them where Storm, Scott, and Jean were still pinned to the wall.

Logan watched Sabertooth as he reache for his dog tags, stabbing the man through his hand. “This is mine.” He snarled.

Sabertooth took a hold of Logan by the neck, tightly holding him in the air. “I’ll kill you, if it’s the last thing I do.” Sabertooth then shifted his hold on Logan, tossing the man up into the air, throwing him over the side.

Logan used his metal claws, catching onto one of the spikes of the crown, using his weight to circle around the copper statue, flipping around and landing on his feet. Logan yelled, jumping and propelling him toward Sabertooth, sinking his claws into his chest again. Sabertooth flipped Logan off of him, making Logan slide down the side of the statue. He sunk his claws into the statue, ending up anchoring himself on the opposite side of the wall that Scott and Jean had been pinned to.

Sabertooth landed in the room again, looking down at the girl in front of him. She should have moved by now if she were to come back. “Pathetic.” he mocked.

Logan dropped into the room, eyeing Sabertooth. “I ain’t finished with you yet.” He looked at Scott, Jean, and Storm, making sure they were safe and perfectly situated. “Scott, I think you dropped something, pal.”

“Open your eyes when I tell you, Scott.” She whispered to him.

“No,” he protested.

Logan held up the visor, “Jean, now.”

Jean used her powers to move the visor at an angle so Scott could use it. “Scott, open your eyes, now.”

Scott reluctantly opened his eyes, using his blast to attack Sabertooth, sending the mutant out of the room. He fell from the head of the Statue, crashing into a boat below.

Logan quickly released everybody for their metal restraints before turning his attention back to Amaris. His lower lip quivered as he knelt down beside her. He was acting before he could even think, moving her body by flipping her over, holding her upper body against his lap. He pushed the hair out of her face as her head moved at another awkward angle. “Come on, baby girl,” he whispered, looking down at her face. “You’re my kid. You have to wake up.”

Scott looked down at the two mutants, Jean and Storm both closing in on his sides as he wrapped an arm around them. They had all become family, they couldn’t afford to loose family.

Amaris’ eyelid twitched, a strong heartbeat returning to her chest. She exhaled a deep breath, groaned as she felt a pop between her shoulder blades. She opened her eyes to see Logan peering down at her, worry and concern washed from his face. “Hey, hey that’s it.” He whispered to her, holding her while she woke up.

“Logan?” she asked him, bringing a hand up to her face, rubbing her temple.

He shook his head. “I’m your dad, kid. You should address me as such.”

Amaris had a pink color wash over her face as Logan pulled her in for an embrace, both of them grabbing onto each other as if they were saying goodbye.

A loud shrieking could be heard as Rogue yelled. Jean, Scott and Storm looked up to see her standing in the middle of a device the whirled around her.

Logan and Amaris both stood up, looking at Rogue. Their bonding time would have to be set to the side. “We have to get her out of there.” Logan stated the obvious. “Cyclops, do you think you can hit it?”

Scott studied the machine briefly. “Those rings are moving too fast. I’ll end up hitting her.”

Scott turned to face Storm. “Can you fly me up there?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that. I could easily throw you over or under it.”

“Then let me go,” Logan stated. Scott looked over at him, worried. “If I don’t make it, you can at least still blast the damn thing.”

Storm had been standing next to Amaris, making sure she was fine. Jean looked at Scott, nodding to the plan. “Okay, let’s do it. Jean, use your power to steady him.”

The women all agreed, making sure to give Logan his space before they manipulated him. Storm’s eyes began to cloud over as she guided Amaris against the wall. “Everyone, hand onto something.” A force of wind filled the room, encapsulating Logan in it. Jean outstretched her hand, using her powers to steady him. Logan was pulled up into the air, spinning around slightly as he struggled with the sensation of flying.

Logan found his way to the top of the machine, still feeling Jean focusing him until he was balanced and Storm releasing her hold of the wind around him. A bright white light overcame the machine as Rogue began to scream again, feeling herself starting to drain.

Scott, Storm, Jean, and Amaris watched Logan as he stood on top of the machine, standing on pins and needles to see what would happen next.

Logan timed the rings, jumping down inside the machine without getting hurt. He pulled his claws out again, attempting to slash at the machine. He had been stopped, however, by Magneto who used his powers against Logan. Logan kept his eyes trained on Magneto, seeing out of the corner of his eye how Rogue’s hair began to change to white, groaning as the machine continued to roar to life.

Scott brought a hand up to his visor, watching as the white field of radiation began to grow. “I’m taking the shot.” He announced, aiming for Erik. He blasted the older man in the back, throwing Magneto to his back. It released his hold on Logan, who focused his energy into stopping the machine. As bits and pieces of it fell apart, Jean and Amaris could be heard catching their breaths.

Helicopters and boats could be heard beginning to rush to the island. “We have to get them down from there and head back to the mansion,” Amaris commented.

Scott turned to look at her. “How do you plan we do that?”

She looked at the summit of the torch, thinking. “Get the jet up here, we will pick them up from there, then get out of here.”

“Come along. We need to hurry before the authorities get too close.” Storm wrapped an arm around Amaris, heading out of the head of the statue and flying down to the jet.

Up on the torch, Logan looked at Rogue. She had that same look about her face that Amaris had mere minutes before. He cut her restraints away, catching her in his arms. She wasn’t responding anymore, breathing shallowly. Logan looked at her hair, touching the white that now grew at the front of her face. He pulled a gloved hand to his mouth, removing it and dropping it to the ground. “Come on.” he whispered, daring to touch her again after what happened the previous night.

He finally touched her face, closing his eyes as he tried to give her some of his power. He was ready to feel it drain from his body again, if only to make her wake up. After a few seconds, he didn’t feel anything. He opened his eyes to look at her, seeing no change in her face or appearance. He left his hand on her face, starting to feel the effects of the battle, how worn down her was, now to lose the teenager he promised to keep safe.

He began to weep, the side of his face brushing up against hers. He moved his hand to cup the back of her head, bringing her face closer to him with his cheek pressed to her forehead. He failed her. He had to accept he failed her.

His eyes widened, feeling his skin pull near his eyes. He felt a sharp pull within his body, a dull ache taking a hold of him as he felt the air in his lungs leave. The skin on his face began to rip apart, and blood began to pull out of the spaces in his suit where he had previously been injured.

Rogue woke up frightened, pushing Logan off of her. Soon the jet arrived at the torch, the hanger door opening up. Jean and Amaris walked out. “Rogue!” Jean called, extending a gloved hand toward her.

Amaris rushed out to find Logan on the floor, gasping and bleeding. Rogue grabbed Jean’s arm, entering the jet. Amaris picked up her father, getting back into the jet and setting him down on the medical gurney. Jean and Amaris both began to work on Logan. “It was an accident.” Rogue said, repeating the same statement from the night before.

Amaris looked over at her. “No, he saved your life.”

Once back at the mansion Amaris and Jean rushed Logan into the infirmary. Storm stayed with Rogue, doing an assessment on her. Scott’s first thought was checking on Charles. He was surprised to see the man waking up.

“Welcome back.” Scott muttered, looking at Charles.

The older man chuckled, looking at him. “I knew you would lead the team well.” He pulled his face together, gathering something went wrong. “How did we do?”

Scott approached the man, stuffing one hand in his pocket. “Rogue was rescued, though not without some complications.”

“Complications,” Charles asked.

Scott nodded. “She used up nearly all of Logan’s life force to come back to us. Though this was his call.” He moved out of Charles way to show on the other side of the glass wall Logan laying on an exam table connected to oxygen, a heart monitor, bandaged up, with Amaris at his side, holding his hand between hers. “Amaris nearly died as well. I thought she wouldn’t recover.”

Charles hummed, observing the Howlett’s. “They are designed from the same structure. They both will bounce back, on their own timing of course.”

Nearly a week had passed since the X-Men rescued Rogue. Both Rogue and Amaris had checked in on Logan, Though Amaris stayed with him nearly the entire time. Other members of the team, and Charles, had to convince her to go get proper sleep in her bed, to shower, just to stretch her legs. Scott, being the big brother he claimed to be for Amaris, would often bring her something to eat, or cover her up in a blanket if she happened to fall asleep. Her reasoning behind staying with Logan so much was she didn’t want him to wake up alone.

Jean had convinced her to take a shower and eat a meal at a proper table. Amaris had been reluctant, but complied to her requests. Jean monitored Logan, doing another set of vitals on him. She examined his face, seeing his wounds had closed up. She then lifted the dressing off his chest, her fingers tracing over where his other wounds would have been.

Logan stirred when she touched his ribs, gently grabbing her hand. “Stop, that tickles.” His voice was rough as he woke up from his deep sleep.

Jean smiled looking down at him, thankful to hear his voice. “How are you feeling?” She asked him.

Logan chuckled a little. “Like a million dollars.”

She continued to smile at him, taking note of his reactions. He seemed fine, physically and cognitively. “What is the last thing you remember?”

Logan flexed his fingers, thinking about that night. “Scott blasted Magneto… I cut Rogue out of her restraints… and.” His eyes widened, then pushed himself up as he pulled at the wires connected to his body. “Where’s Amaris?”

Jean placed a hand back on his chest, forcing him back down. “I sent her to take a shower. She’s been here by your side day-in and day-out.” She watched the relief wash over his face. “She’s been talking to you, telling you stories about her childhood here, asking you questions about your favorite music and your favorite places you’ve been to.”

Logan hummed, nodding slowly. “I could remember hearing her.”

“Rogue has been down here to check on you too.” Jean added, removing the electrodes from his chest. “She wasn’t kidding when she says she can absorb personality traits along with peoples powers and energy.”

“Sorry about that.”

Jean smiled, tossing the stickers into a trash can under the table. “I think she’s taken a little liking to you.”

Logan coughed a little, still stirring out of his coma. “You can tell her my heart belongs to somebody else.” Logan had taken quite a liking to Storm. She challenged him in ways that nobody else did, and she had a lovely personality to back it up. “How’s the Professor?” he asked, nervously.

She nodded. “He is well.”

Logan was relieved. Everybody was safe, well, and accounted for. He did what she said he was going to do, and maybe a little more.

A pair of boots could be heard entering the lab. “Logan,” Amaris whispered, seeing Logan awake. She dropped a paper plate that had a sandwich on it, her damp hair resting behind her as she crossed the room, standing on the other side of the exam table.

Logan sat up again, using one arm to support himself, wrapping the other around her smaller frame. Amaris wrapped both of her arms around his neck, stifling the sob that built up in her chest. “What did I tell you before?” Logan asked in her ear.

Amaris giggled, feeling the tears she had sealed away behind to fall. “Hi Dad.”

“Hi, baby girl.”

Jean left the room, leaving the father and daughter to have their moment together, this time without anybody to interrupt it.

Logan pulled away from Amaris, helping her to wipe her face. “Metallica. One, The Unforgiven, and For Whom the Bell Tolls.”

She looked at him puzzled. “What?”

He smiled looking at her, finally seeing the bits of him that built her. “My favorite band and my top three songs from them.”

He smiled looking at her, brushing the wet hair out of her face. “You could hear me?” She asked him.

He nodded. “The whole time.” He chuckled a little as he observed her face. “So, about that jailbreak?”

Amaris gave Logan some clothes to wear so he could leave the infirmary. He went up to his room, taking a shower and getting dressed in the same clothes he showed up to the mansion in the week before. She made him something to eat, knowing he had to be exhausted still from all of his downtime.

Amaris brought the food to his room, where she had been met by Charles. “I suggest you get your strength up. I still have my end of the deal to uphold.” He watched as Amaris entered the room, having made Logan a couple of cheeseburgers. “I think the both of you would benefit from a little trip. Learn more about each other, learn about your past.”

Amaris handed the plate over to Logan, both of them looking at Charles. “Come down to the debriefing room after your lunch. I will give you all the information I have to offer you Logan.”

Charles left Logan’s bedroom, rejoining the rest of the mansion’s occupants in their daily lives.

An hour or so later, both Logan and Amaris showed up at the debriefing room, seeing the interactive table again. “I found this abandoned military base in the Canadian Rockies, at Alkali Lake. It’s close to where we found you, Logan.” The two men looked at each other as Charles presented the information. “Not much is left, but it’s possible to find some answers.”

Logan nodded as he studied the scene. “Thank you.”

“Amaris, the choice is yours. No matter what you choose, you will always have your spot as an X-Man.” Both Charles and Logan looked at her. Amaris looked at the man she grew up with respecting and learning from as a father, then to the man who was her father. It was a hard choice to make, but in the world that they lived in, everybody had to leave their nests and learn how to fly.

Amaris nodded, “I’m going with you.”

“Are you going to say goodbye to them?” He asked both of the mutants. Logan and Amaris looked at each other, giving a slight nod. “There is a jeep in the garage. You will find the title work inside the glove box in your name, Amaris. You should take it. Alberta is a long ways away from here.”

Logan extended a hand out to Charles. Charles shook Logan’s hand. “Thank you, for finding more than what I thought you could have found.” Once they let each other’s hands go, Logan looked at Amaris. “I’m ready whenever you are, kid.”

She nodded. “Let me go pack up a bag. Get us some things we might need.” Logan nodded, walking away. Amaris walked over to Charles, smiling at the man. “You have given me every tool i could possibly need in this world. I can never pay you enough for that.”

Charles laughed, taking a hold of her hand between both of his. “My dear child, share those tools with Logan. Learn from each other. Once you both find the answers you are looking for… come back here. I wish to hear all about it.”

Amaris nodded. “I will.” she whispered before leaning down and hugging Charles again “This isn’t goodbye, Professor. I’ll just see you around.” She let go of the man, standing up and walking away from him. She moved about the hallway, catching sight of her suit hung perfectly in it’s glass container. She passed by the lab, having spent more time in it this week than any other portion of her life.

Making her way to the elevator, she hopped onto it, heading to the secondary floor of the mansion. She headed for her room, grabbing a duffle bag that bore the symbol of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. The same symbol was used for the X-Men’s gear. At least she would have a piece of them with her when they left.

She changed her clothes, keeping her boots and jeans, though opting for a t-shirt and a jacket. In the bag to packed two blankets, a couple of flashlights, an extra jacket, and some under garments. She knew they would end up picking things up along the way between Westchester county and Alberta. The most important thing to have would be the clothes on their pack, a couple of provisions, and some cash for gas.

Amaris took another look at her room, knowing that this chapter of her life was completed, and she was moving onto the next.

She made her way down the stairs to see Logan and Rogue talking with each other. The teenager gave a wave to Amaris before returning to the main room where other students could be heard.

Storm approached Logan, Amaris noticed this and kept her distance, giving the two some time to talk.

“You gave us quite a scare for a while, there.” Storm told Logan, fixing the collar on his leather jacket.

Logan chuckled as he watched her. “Yeah, so I’ve heard.”

Storm smirked, looking down briefly as she spoke. “Should I be under the impression you aren’t coming back?” She looked up at him, a soft look painted in her eyes.

Logan brought a hand up to his neck, pulling his dog tags out. He removed the necklace, taking her hand and placing the dog tags in hers, then closing her hand. “I’ll come back for these one day, doll.” Storm looked down at their hands, giving Logan the right moment to reach down and press a chaste kiss to her cheek. He pulled back, letting go of her hands. “I promise.”

Amaris smiled watching the interaction between her long time best friend, and her newly found father. She walked around to meet them, hoisting her bag over her shoulder. Storm and Amaris looked at each other, remaining silent before embracing each other again. “Don’t worry, Storm. I’ll make sure we stay out of trouble. We don’t need to rely on the X-Men to save us on our road trip.”

Storm laughed, letting go of Amaris. “Go, find yourselves. Then return to us.”

Amaris nodded, watching Storm as she left. The young woman looked up at Logan, a glint in her eyes. “Are you ready to go, old man?”

Logan arched a brow looking at her. “Now I’m the old man?”

“You’re my old man, are you not?”

Logan opened up the front door of the mansion, shaking his head before they started walking to the garage. Amaris found the jeep Charles told her about, checking the registration was in the console, along with passports for the both of them. Jean and Scott must have gotten these ready for them to make crossing the borders easier.

Amaris placed her bag on the floor of the backseat, watching Logan as he eyed the motorcycle that belonged to Scott. “Do you want me to haul your bag?”

Logan approached the jeep, setting the bag down. “I think I do.” He then made his way over to the key rack, grabbing the keys to the motorcycle.

Logan mounted the bike, revving the engine before taking off. Amaris followed her father in the jeep, wondering what next adventure lay in store for the Howlett’s.

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