"🅹🆄🆂🆃 🆅🅸🅶🅸🅻🅰🅽🆃🅸🅽🅶 …🅸🅻🅻🅴🅶🅰🅻🅻🆈"

At a family meeting, somewhere in the future...

MY fanfic : at AO3

Soul-s-Sword

With a desperate swing, Magik brought down the armament that she had forged through nightmares and endless pain, the cracked and damaged plane of the Soulsword whistling its demonic screeches along the path of the blade.

It contacted the being but Illyana felt a sharp, deafening pain shooting through her whole being, body and soul, as the energy blade shattered into millions of shards exploding with its potent Limbo energy that sounded a thunderous boom through the battlefield.

She sees the world in slow motion as she was being blasted away from the monster;

Her brother, tall and solid in his Steelform, rushed in with a primal roar.

Storm cried thunderously as a bolt of lightning flashed down from the heavens onto the indestructible evil.

A beam of crimson bathed the scene in its reddish glow.

Iceman summoned a snowstorm.

And then her scenery changed for a blink of an eye to a landscape almost identical to the waste of Limbo she'd grown accustomed to in her childhood, her nose filled with intense sulfuric fumes. it changed again, and the sight before her gripped its icy claws around her heart.

Kitty, battered and bleeding, crying because of her.

She hates it.

Hating the fact that out of all people, she's the one who made her cry.

In her attempt to word a simple chide, she felt her lips dried and cracked.

Her hand that was reaching towards the lovely brunette shrunken and wasting away at a raid rate.

In her numb sensation, she felt a searing hot tear dropped onto her cheek, and felt her dying body gathered into the petite woman, held tight like she is the most precious thing.

Regrets filling her dying heart, of the word she'd never dared to say.

Her, the Queen of Limbo, Soveriegn of Otherplace, Sorceress Supreme of the Pandemonium, was too afraid to say a simple confession to a girl who can phase through solid matter like a ghost.

I love you...

She felt Kitty's forehead pressed against hers as the brunette's arms tightening even further, almost crushing the last breath out of her lungs.

Then, like two dying star colliding into one another, conglemorating their existences with each other, a surge of pure power rushed through her body and her right hand gripping a handle with instinctive response.

The Soulsword, forged anew, binding two souls intertwined, coiling them into a searing-hot beam of energy shotting out of Illyana's fist, splitting the dark clouds and allowing the Sun to shine it's light onto them as if giving a new life to the world of darkness.

Magik, resurrected, wielding the sword made of entangled souls, announced her return and triumphant with a powerful roar before a stepping-disc would materialized her and the Souls-Sword to the monster's behind.

And Illyana Rasputin swung down with a newfound might, ending the nightmare.

░J░A░M░E░S░ ░H░O░W░L░E░T░T░

S A M E lol

me as a writer

Nobody:

Absolutely no one:

Jess: “…Are you my mailman? Please tell me I have an overdue delivery of a forty-five round to my head.”

“So, you guys definitely came from an alternate reality,” Peter addressed with a welcoming smile as he seated on a couch opposite the Web Warriors (they insisted) while presenting Susan’s best tea blends and some freshly baked cookies courtesy of Mister Grimm; that giant was a miracle worker when it comes to cooking. “I met some of the other Peters before, years ago. It's usually not a good sign when you meet with your alternate variants, kinda like running into a doppelganger or something; supposed to bring bad luck.” He attempted to lighten the atmosphere a little. “Relax, please; everyone here knows I’m Spider-Man, and the Future Foundation is closed for the holidays, we won’t be interrupted, I promise.” Just then, the elevator dings and reveals the rest of the occupants to the gathered Spider-Persons. “Ah, excuse me a little bit,” he got up in a jump and jogged towards the blondes walking out of the shaft accompanied by a man with salt-and-pepper hair, a stone-skinned giant, and a little toddler with strawberry-brown hair hooking her little hand to the pregnant blonde’s. “Couldn’t even wait, huh?” Peter teased the petite blonde who was glued to the pregnant woman’s side to support her in walking. “Hey, Valeria.” He greeted the toddler who beamed back at him with her missing tooth grin.

“Aw! That’s little Val!” Cindy commented as Peter; her Peter, produced a smile at seeing the alternate version of his surrogate niece.

“Dada!” the girl announced with a giddy voice, and it made the 616-Peter choke on his tea, followed along by the Ultimate and Spider-UK while Silk covered her mouth with a gasp.

Ghost-Spider widened her lenses at the call, but mostly at the petite blonde who gave her a sense of curiosity; an action that was mimicked intensely by the woman.

“But Reed and… What…How did you even have the time to…” Peter-616 whined with confusion and disbelief on his face as he gestured toward Hawkeye, Black Cat, and apparently, a pregnant Susan Storm whom his counterpart managed to have relationships with at the same time without it turning into a shit fest “Wasn’t you a Spider-Man in this reality?!”

“Oh, he is,” The sunflower-blonde answered with a scoff “Annoyingly so, but you know, he’s not the only superhero around.” She shrugged her shoulders and helped Susan purchase a seat on the single recliner nearby. She returned her attention to the red-and-blue variant of her fiancé “Ever heard of scheduling or team management?”

Peter-616 was about to protest but then when he analyzed her words carefully, he shut his mouth and settled into the couch with a slouch with Cindy firmly rubbing his upper back sympathetically.

Gwen-65 smirked under her mask, finding the fiery petite blonde amusing; especially the way that the woman expertly shut Spider-Man up effectively with a single sentence.

Uncle Spider and his little wolverine

“He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster”

If there's no CFM appearance soon with her pissed off at her variant's wedding without being invited

Rose O'Hara

21st September 1861

It has been three years since I’ve visited you last, dear diary.

Three years since that horrible night.

Victor Creed came back, and he slaughtered everyone on the plantation.

The workers.

Master John.

Mistress Elizabeth.

Aunty Gilda. Martha.

Even my father, and my mother.

Mister Bert sacrificed himself to hold that daemon back while he told me and James to run away as far as we could and to not stop until we could not anymore. We did, while the scream of death shadowed us like a hellhound.

Come November will be my sixteenth winter, as well as James's.

We stay at a kind gentleman’s house near a coal mine, where James works as a foreman for the kind man.

Mister Deveraux, one of Master John’s associates, recognized James while we were scraping for changes and food in port towns along the Missouri River.

I almost had to sell my body countless times, but James always saved me from such a fate with his family’s heirlooms and whatever valuables he could get his hands on from the ignorant rich people coming and going.

On the eve of my birthday, I want to tell him how I feel.

For he’s a caring and loving man I couldn’t ask for a better replacement.

And I so want him to know that.

Silly, I even thought about buying a pair of silver bands for him and myself.

I must get to bed, dear diary, wish me luck.

…

22nd September 1861

He said he felt the same for me!

Oh, dear diary, I am so happy!

I’ve rarely seen him smile since we ran away from the plantation, I saw it again today and it was as beautiful as before.

Oh, dear diary, he’s so awkward with the kisses, so was I.

But they are the sweetest memories we will share, yet.

We are going to a dinner at Mister Deveraux’s saloon in two days.

I must buy a new dress, even though he said I would look good in a potato sack. Silly man.

Good night, dear diary.

…

28th September 1861

I hope you can see.

James bought the silver bands that I have been eyeing today, and I let him put one on my hand!

Oh, dear diary, it is lovely.

He asked Mister Deveraux to be a witness as he was proposing to me at the saloon, and his friends from the mine were there as well, cheering on us.

I felt like I was going to explode, dear diary, I don’t think I will be able to take a rest tonight as my heart is still racing.

…

1st October 1861

The wedding was lovely last night.

It was not a grand event like I’d dreamt of when I was but a silly girl, but having seen James there on the altar before me surrounded by the friends we have come to know here brought joyous tears to me all the same.

He was a kind and gentle man, despite his scary visage.

Oh, the muscles on him make me blush like a virgin maiden again just thinking about them.

His body was very warm, and perfect for the night as he gathered me into his arms, whispering sweet words to my ears.

We talked about building a family this morning, and I am touched that James wanted to name our firstborn after either his mother or my father, Elizabeth or Logan.

I feel like the luckiest woman to have been loved by this man.

…

29th October 1861

I was very busy, sorry for neglecting you again, dear diary.

I woke up this morning with an urge to empty my stomach, yet nothing came out, James quickly took me to a clinic nearby.

I am pregnant with James’s child, dear diary!

Oh, Almighty Lord in Heaven, I am happy!

The doctor told us that the incoming birth around July might prove to be difficult for a woman of my stature and age, but James promised to do anything in his power to ensure the safety of our child and me.

He talked with Mister Deveraux today and took on a job inside the shaft as well to save more money for the doctor’s fee in the future.

I am worried, of course, but James knows what he is doing.

He is a peculiarly strong man, despite the weakness in his health I witnessed in our childhood.

Now, my job is to keep little Logan or Elizabeth safe and strong, so that it can be loved by a wonderful father, of my beloved husband.

Calling him that still made me giggle like a teen, oh dear!

“Where the hell did ya get that, Kid?” his gravel and whispery voice roused her up like a good electrical shock as she instinctively threw the journal away in a poor attempt to hide it.

“In the closet.” Laura curtly replied, hiding her eyes from the smoldering gaze of her DNA donor.

“You and your bullshitting,” Logan finally breathed out with a chuckle as he casually approached the journal and picked it up, a nostalgic hue clouding his eyes a moment as he opened the first few pages with a sad smile. “Nosy little weasel, aren’t ya?” Logan commented lightheartedly while stashing the journal into the pocket of his leather jacket before making a way toward the door “Dinner’s almost done, get down there and eat.”

“You are not my dad.”

“Jean says otherwise,” the burly man shrugged his shoulders and was about to pass the threshold.

“What happened?”

“Hmm?”

“After the end of October, if you’re gonna take that journal away, you might as well spoil the rest for me.” The girl got up from the bed and approached him with those determined eyes, crossing her arms with a little lift of her demanding eyebrows “It’s not like the sappy love story is interesting or—"

“Creed.” Logan simply replied with a single word, spoken with an immeasurable amount of hatred seething inside his chest. And then he disappeared from the second floor, heading down the stairs.