cemeteryspider

[cemeteryspider]

Family Fragments Part 2

Stanford Pines x Child! Reader

Summary: Flashback to what happens the night of Ford's disappearance, and how you meet your Uncle Stan.

Trigger Warnings: Nightmares, Fear, Trauma, Violence, Loss, Family Conflict

Word Count: 2.7k

There was little Ford did these days besides pacing the floor, playing dolls with you, caring for you, and drinking coffee. In fact he had tricked himself into thinking that nothing was wrong and simply just allowed himself to be your father. Even in the pull to the basement was strong in his mind he tried to keep out of it for as long as possible.

When you had turned 5 years old he had thrown you a birthday party not inviting anyone from town. There was no adult that he trusted with you for fear of them being possessed and overpowering you. Other than Fiddleford of course, but he was off the table after his trip into the portal sent him spiraling.

Stanford had just gotten done icing the cake with strawberry frosting, you had requested an all pink cake with a gnome on top. He ended up taping a picture he drew of a gnome to a toothpick and sticking it into the cake after three failed attempts at using icing. He had hypothesized that it would be like drawing on paper, he was very wrong.

He went up to grab you from your room and saw you drawing on the floor, "Hey dad!"

His loud footsteps indicate his presence in your room. He walked close to you and looked over your shoulder onto the paper, only seeing yellow triangles covering the sheet. Ford’s blood ran cold. The yellow triangles stared back at him from the paper, like they were watching him. He swallowed hard, pocketing the drawing. He couldn’t let you see his fear. Not now.

"Are you ready for your birthday?" He asked, allowing his heart rate to come down as he led you down the stairs.

You were practically bubbling with excitement, "Yeah I can't WAIT!"

He covered your eyes with his six-fingered hands and led you to the kitchen, "Keep your eyes closed, Sweet-Pea."

You giggled as he ran around trying to find his matchbook, and while he was at it he threw your drawing onto the open flame of the fireplace, content as the edges curled and darkened distorting the yellow triangles until they were unrecognizable.

Quickly he lit the candles surrounding the gnome on the pink cake, "Open your eyes."

When you did there was a loud gasp, and your sneakers stomped on the floor as you jumped up and down. He placed his hands on your shoulder and began to sing Happy Birthday to you, and when he was done you blew your candles out allowing yourself to stare at the cake.

He plucked the candles from the top of the cake and got up to get the kitchen knife from the locked drawer, locked not just for your safety but as a precaution.

While cutting the cake he looked toward you twirling the drawing stuck to a toothpick between your fingers, "What did you wish for sweetie."

You looked up at him and smiled, "What would a good wish be?"

Ford's eyes softened, focusing on your eager face. He smiled gently, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "You know, Sweet-Pea, a good wish is something that makes you feel happy and safe. Maybe it’s something you’d like to see happen in the future, something that brings a little bit of hope."

He paused, his heart aching with both worry and love as your brows furrowed in thought, "How about wishing for something like...more days filled with laughter?"

Your face lit up at the thought. You looked at the cake, deep in concentration for a moment, then turned back to him with a bright smile. "I wish that you'll always be my best friend, Dad."

Ford felt a lump form in his throat, and he pulled you into a tight hug, trying to hide the tears that brimmed in his eyes. "That's the best wish I could ever imagine," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

He wiped his eyes, careful not to alarm you with tears on your special day, he got up and grabbed a small gift wrapped in sparkly silver wrapping paper. Inside was a zippered pouch that opened up revealing many pencils, colored pencils, erasers, pens, and a pencil sharpener. Below that a journal almost identical to your father's except yours had a crescent moon on the front.

You had a knack for drawing and like your father a naturally inquisitive mind. Before this you had even written your own journal entries in your father's journal which were some of his favorites even though they weren't very scientific.

In an instant your arms were wrapped around your father's neck and he was ensnared in your tight hug, "Thank you, dad. I love it."

After a long night of movies, popcorn, and a few slices of cake you were falling asleep in the armchair in front of the TV. When he brought you upstairs, tucked you into bed, and sat himself in the chair in your room.

He didn't notice the sleep sneaking up on him until it was too late, and when he woke up he was standing on the roof of the cabin. Looking out into the woods of Gravity Falls, swaying slightly in the chilly night air. Ford’s heart stopped. He wasn’t on the ground anymore—he was on the roof. How? His breath came fast, hands shaking as he grabbed the gutter, forcing himself down, foot by foot.

As he was shimmying down the gutter he heard an ear piercing scream which caused him to fall the rest of the way down, and rush into the house. He tore up the stairs, each step echoing like thunder. Inside your room, the air was cold, stale. You were huddled in the far corner of your bed, knees tucked to your chest, trembling. Frantically he looked around, trying to spot what had made you so afraid. However when he looked to the ground he felt a familiar pit of terror fill his stomach.

Rats, unmoving, spelling out the words 'Happy Birthday'. He looked at you silently crying as far away from the offending offering as possible. He let out a deep sigh and went to grab the broom and dustpan, hoping to get the rats out of the room as fast as possible.

After he had placed them a little ways into the woods, he returned to your bed and sat down on the edge just looking at you as silent tears streamed down your face.

"Are you okay?" He asked not quite sure if he should be speaking, and despite knowing the answer.

You shook your head and rapidly swiped the tears from your cheeks. After a moment you pulled your arms into your sleeves and tucked your face under your collar.

Ford sat beside you, his hand hovering just above your shoulder before he placed it there, unsure but trying to comfort you. You collapsed into his side, your small frame shaking with sobs. It broke him, every tear you shed a reminder of his failure to protect you.

"What’s haunting you, Sweet-Pea? Please, talk to me,” Ford said, his voice cracking slightly, desperate to understand what his daughter was going through.

"I'm having nightmares," A cold chill ran down his spine and he held you a little bit closer, "Always the same, I wake up and you're gone. Except you're there just not right. Your eyes are yellow and you just stand there everywhere I go... just staring."

Before he could respond there was a loud knock from the front door. He looked over at you, and rubbed your arm, "Let me see who that is, don't come downstairs until I say it's safe okay?"

You peek your head out of your sweatshirt and nod at him. Your father had told you about making deals and shaking hands with people, or things you don't know. What you didn't tell him is that a yellow triangle forced you into these nightmares when you refused to let him into your mind.

The journal entry on a triangle entered your mind, but raised voices from downstairs drew your attention away from your thoughts.

"Ah! Hey! What is this?" Quietly you sneak down the stairs and peak into the messy room to the right of the staircase. You saw your dad frantically talking to someone dressed in a red sweatshirt and who seemed to have a mullet. You never knew your father to let anyone in let alone some random man from off the street.

"Oh!" Ford’s voice wavered as he caught sight of you peeking out from behind the wall. He turned to Stan, the weight of this introduction hanging heavy between them. "Stanley, this is my daughter… your niece, Y/N." Stan’s eyes widened, the words hitting him like a punch. A niece? His brother—a dad? It was like hearing that pigs could fly. For a moment, he didn’t know what to do. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, offering you a grin that felt too stiff, like he was trying on a new suit that didn’t quite fit.

Quickly the man that your father called Stanley turned around and you saw your father's face staring back at you, "Sweet Pea, this is my twin brother, your uncle, Stanley."

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before stepping out from behind the wall, the cluttered room feeling suddenly too small as your uncle’s gaze fell on you.

"Hey, uh, kiddo. I guess I'm your Uncle Stan," He stretched his arms out in a shrugging motion and you took it as an opportunity for a hug. Nearly toppling him over with the force. He let out a little 'oomph' and his arm was still open to the air.

His arms were stiff at first as you barreled into him. This tiny child- his niece- was holding onto him as if he were her lifeline. He wasn't used to this. Not since the good ol' days with his brother. His idea of family was always messy, complicated, but here you were, trusting him instantly, and felt a familiar tug in his heart he hadn't felt in so long. It took him a moment, but soon his arms enveloped you and gave you a little squeeze.

Once you let go and looked at your dad his eyes had softened and his mouth hung open a little bit. Maybe he was wrong to keep you tucked away in the woods away from the rest of the world. For the first time in a while he thought of his parents and his family.

He pushed that away from his mind, "I have something to show you... something you won't believe."

Your Uncle Stan looked from you to his little brother, and there was a brief moment of thought where he considered having a niece to be something he didn't believe, "Look I've been around the world, okay? Whatever it is I'll understand."

You looked up to your father and shook your head, he definitely would not understand the machine in the basement. Taking your Uncle's hand you followed behind Ford to the basement, he even looked confused at the retinal scanner.

Your father had ushered you over to his work bench and sat you down with a pen and a piece of paper in front of you.

"Let me talk to your Uncle Stan alone for a moment. Could you draw a picture for me?" Ford's voice softened, but beneath the tenderness was an edge of unease. The warmth from the birthday evening lingered, yet the basement held a different weight. It was as if the shadows grew longer here, the air charged with something Ford couldn’t quite shake. He led Stan into the portal room, his mind a whirl of questions he wasn’t ready to answer.

You smiled and nodded your head, knowing that he was asking this of you to distract you from their conversation. However, you knew that your dad had not seen his brother in years and if you hadn't seen your dad in years, you would want a moment alone with him too. You sat and drew a picture of you, your father, and your uncle, occasionally looking up.

It wasn't until they crashed into the door fighting that you realized the fight that was happening. Quickly you got up after the big machine started glowing blue. With your father occupied you started moving your way toward the glowing circle.

You stood just feet from the looming machine, the hum of its power vibrating through your bones. For a moment, everything seemed to slow down, your heart pounding in your ears as you stared at the glowing portal. Then, without warning, your father shot forward, colliding with the lever. Time snapped back into place, chaos breaking loose all around you. Looking at the verbal onslaught you reach toward your dad but only manage to catch his coat as Stanley pushes him backwards toward the portal.

You and your father started to float, gravity slipping away beneath your feet. Panic seized your chest as the world shifted and twisted. Desperate to hold onto something—anything—you reached for him, fingers brushing his coat. 'Dad, don’t let go!' Your voice cracked with fear. His grip tightened for a heartbeat, but the force was too strong. You screamed again, fighting the pull, wishing with everything inside you that you could somehow stop what was happening. Stanford quickly pulled you tightly into his chest and held you tightly for a moment before shoving one of his journals into your arms.

“Y/N!” Ford’s voice cracked as he fought against the pull. “No matter what, remember that I love you! You’re everything to me… I’m so proud of you, Sweet-Pea. Don’t ever forget that!” His words echoed as he was pulled into the portal, the brightness swallowing him up. Once he was gone there was a flash of white light that sent you hurtling toward your uncle causing you both to crash to the ground in a heap.

You reached out, desperate to stop it, your small hands clutching at air as your father’s grip loosened, "Dad, don’t go!"

You rolled off of your uncle and sat on the ground as he got up and started banging on the metal structure.

You sat on the floor, knees drawn up to your chest, clutching the journal tightly. Your mind raced, replaying the scene over and over, desperately trying to understand how it had all gone so wrong. One moment, your dad was singing Happy Birthday to you, and now... now he was gone. Gone into that horrible, glowing machine. Every nightmare you'd had, every fear that kept you up at night, had just become real. And it was your fault. If only you'd been stronger, smarter—if only you’d done something different—he’d still be here.

"STANFORD! STANFORD, COME BACK! I DIDN'T MEAN IT!" He looked back and over to you. Tears forming in your eyes and your lower lip starting to quiver.

Stan pulled the lever again. Nothing. He pulled harder. Still nothing. Panic clawed at his chest as he slammed his fist into the console.

"STANFORD!" he shouted, but it was too late. The machine was dead. Your father was gone. And in the heavy silence that followed, you could feel it. Everything had changed.

Stan stood by the dead machine, hands shaking as he looked between the console and you, lost in the gravity of what had just happened. For a moment, he was frozen, unsure of what to do. He had never been good at this—at emotions, at comforting others—but seeing you there, small and fragile, clutching Ford's journal like it was a lifeline, something cracked inside him. He knelt down beside you, unsure of what to say, “Hey, kid...” 

His voice was rough, but there was a softness beneath it, “I’m gonna bring him back, okay? I promise.”

You looked up at him, tears brimming in your eyes. His promise hung in the air, but you weren’t sure if he even believed it. But the way his voice wavered, the way he clenched his fists, made you think that maybe he needed to believe it as much as you did.

[cemeteryspider]

Family Fragments Part 1

Stanford Pines x Child! Reader

*No use of Y/n* *Fem Reader*

Summary: Flashback~ Ford must protect you, his innocent daughter, from becoming an unwilling pawn in the sinister schemes of an Interdimensional demon.

Trigger Warnings: Possession, Child Endangerment (thanks Bill), Psychological Manipulation, Mild Violence

Word Count: 1.1k

You shifted in your father's arms as he pushed through doors and walked through hallways from the basement of his shack in the woods into your room in the attic. You barely registered him tucking you into your bed and him kissing you on the forehead with his heavily chapped lips.

"Good night, Sweet pea," He whispered and the door clicked behind him. 

A loud tired sigh echoed in the short stairwell down to the foyer. The descent down the staircase was heavy and creaky and when he came to the door in the basement he widened his eyes and allowed the retinal scanner to scan his eye confirming he was not possessed by Bill. He couldn’t help the yawn that escaped his lips as he entered the basement, cluttered with half-finished devices- scattered wires and gears glinting under the dim flickering light bulb hanging overhead.The unfinished portal stood tall in front of him humming a just so a he felt a soft vibration through the soles of his shoes. 

He sat down at the workbench and resumed writing in the third journal. Drawing the new suit he was designing to keep Bill out of his mind for good, however there was the small problem of the brain he needed to complete the thing. However, his mind drifted to the mind erasing gun in the hand of the suit which reminded him of his old friend, who left him alone to work with his muse months ago. 

Then he heard a not so subtle knocking coming from upstairs. At first he thought it was some random drunk knocking at the door and letting the person get bored of the odd old cabin in the woods, but after a succinct series of thuds and a hushed laughter he decided to investigate.

He breathed a sigh of relief—at least Bill couldn't sneak his way down there, not without triggering the failsafes. But as he looked up, his heart stopped. There you were, standing in the foyer, eyes glowing an unnatural yellow and a smile far too wide for your little face. It was a sight so wrong, so unsettling, that Ford could barely bring himself to speak.

Your limbs jerked awkwardly, like a marionette pulled by unseen strings, controlled by a puppeteer who lacked all finesse, "Hey, sixer!"

He stood frozen for a moment. Bill's voice coming from your mouth where your sweet little voice should have been, he swallowed a lump in his throat and forced himself to speak, "What are you doing here Bill?" 

Bill grinned, twisting your lips into a mockery of a smile, "I just came by to see you and it seems as though you've taken certain... precautions to make sure I don't interrupt your research."

A chill went down Stanfords spine, his research into the Anti-Cipher Society, and the plans for the suit I had designed, "Let's talk face to face, Cipher. No need to bring my daughter into this."

"I suppose I could end our contract a bit earlier than I intended," And with that your eyes rolled into the back of your skull, and your scaleras the correct color once more. Quickly Ford ran toward you and stopped your descent before hitting the ground.

Bill floated around looking at the different furniture with great fascination, "What is wrong with you, she's just a child."

He cradled your head while you continued your sleep, "Yeah, quite a while since I made a deal with something so small, very difficult to control such small limbs. Painful falling down the stairs don't you think?"

His eyebrows rose and looked over your head moving your hair around, checking for any blood or bruising that could indicate a head wound or concussion.

Stop being such a stick in the mud, Sixer,' Bill sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. 'She’s perfectly fine…for now.' His tone darkened, and Ford’s blood ran cold as he watched Bill shift, his form flickering like a faulty lightbulb.

Ford clutched you tightly to his chest, his heart pounded erratically in his ribcage, "I think it's time for you to leave."

"Nothing more for me to do here, but just you wait I think I will see you again, real soon," With that the cabin seemed to gain its color back and you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

"Dad?" You whispered after a rather large yawn. He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief at hearing your darling voice. His fingers trembled as they wrapped themselves around your small frame, almost as if you would slip right through his grasp into the nightmarish darkness Bill brought in. For a moment, he pressed his nose to the top of your head and breathed in your familiar scent, desperate to remind himself that you were here with him- still his little girl. A surge of guilt tightened his chest. 

"Everything's going to be okay, Sweet Pea just go back to sleep." And you did. For so long he had stayed awake for as long as possible trying to avoid Bill gaining control of his body he forgot about you. A child with little contact with the outside world, and how easily children can be persuaded by older wiser beings. Bill is a master manipulator and Ford practically opened the door to your mind by inviting him into his. 

Despite the distance he forced Bill to keep from you, he had been in his mind. Combed through his memories his happiest being with Stan in his earlier years, and with you in the present. You never were far from his thoughts and Bill knew his weak spot.

He could pull his own hair from his scalp at his own negligence, scream at the top of his lungs for the danger that he put you in, or cry at the worry he felt after learning of your tumble down the stairs caused by someone he once called his friend. However, he did none of those things.

Once he had tucked you in for a second time, Ford sank into the old chair beside your bed. The springs groan under his weight, the leather cracked and worn from years of use. He stared at you for a long moment, watching your chest rise and fall as you slept peacefully. It made his heart ache. How innocent you looked, under a heap of soft blankets, completely unaware of the danger that lurked just beyond your dreams. A dim lamp casting a light golden glow across the room that seemed like a fragile barrier against the dark shadow Bill Cipher cast on this night. 

Ford’s hand shook as he plucked a pen from your desk and opened the journal he had tucked in his coat pocket, the ink bleed slightly as he pressed it to the parchment. He wrote furiously, his mind racing with all sorts of plans, but one thought rang through: I can’t let him take her. Not my daughter.

[cemeteryspider]

DCeased: A New Hope

Dick Grayson x Jean Grey! Pregnant! Reader

Summary: In the midst of a world ravaged by the Anti-Life Equation, a grieving telepathic hero must protect her unborn child and find hope in the remnants of the Bat-Family, while forging a path toward a future worth fighting for.

Trigger Warning: Loss, Grief, Violence, Gore, Emotional Trauma, Pregnancy,

Word Count: 1.7k

Lying on your back, you practiced the deep breathing exercises Leslie Thompkins’ midwives had taught you during your frequent visits, all at Richard's insistence. You complied because you knew this baby would be your and his entire world. So, deep breathing it was. One hand rested just above your belly, the other on your chest, guiding your breaths through your nostrils to raise the hand on your belly and blowing out through your mouth.

You loved that Dick wanted to be near you at every possible moment. However, his constant tossing and turning as you tried to ignore the splitting headache was too much to bear. Eventually, you made him leave the room. That was a while ago. Alfred had just brought you a fresh washcloth for your forehead when you heard a commotion downstairs.

Alfred rushed down immediately at the noise, but it took you a moment to regain your bearings and waddle toward the living room.

At the bottom of the stairs, you froze, staring in shock as your husband, who had been so gentle only an hour ago, was now desperately trying to scratch and bite Alfred and Bruce. Almost out of nowhere, Tim managed to sneak up on Bruce, tearing a chunk out of his arm.

"Dick?" you whispered, frozen in horror as your husband noticed your presence and began to advance toward you.

He was too close for comfort, and it was clear he wasn’t the man you had sent out of your bedroom. One hand instinctively covered your stomach while the other shot into the air, a blue glow holding Nightwing back.

"Run!" Bruce shouted, and as quickly as possible, you bolted down the stairs into the Batcave just as Alfred stabbed both Tim and Dick with a machete—one of the many weapons hidden around Wayne Manor.

You stood behind Alfred and his shotgun, staring into space as Bruce spoke to Superman, discussing his plan to save the world and mentioning something he had for Damian. Before the Man of Steel arrived, Bruce explained to you and Alfred that he wasn’t going to make it, and that Damian, you, and your baby were the future of the family if you couldn’t find the others.

The briefcase in his hand was for Damian, and Alfred was given direct orders to get it to him. You were shocked. You were losing your entire family in the span of a few hours, and it wasn’t even noon yet.

There was nothing to do but watch as, despite Mister Freeze’s suit, Bruce eventually succumbed to the virus coursing through his veins. Alfred ended the call to Damian before shooting Bruce in the head. You turned away, cowering behind Alfred.

Normally, you wouldn’t be afraid of a little blood, but in the past few months, you had slowly started to edge yourself out of the fray. You stopped going on patrol and stopped helping Dick train the Young Justice team, staying behind at the cave doing intel and comms, making sure the Bat-Family would live to fight another day. After all, you were going to be a mother soon, and how could you be out fighting crime at night with a baby at home? If Dick needed to keep fighting, then so be it, but if anything were to happen to him, your baby would still have you.

Now that worst fear is coming true. Dick's lifeless body lies upstairs as you tremble on the ground, unable to keep everyone's thoughts out of your head. That’s when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, and you started to come back to reality.

"...breathe, Ms. Grayson, breathe. That’s right, breathe." Alfred was looking you in the eyes, and slowly you returned to the present. You managed to keep all the extra voices in your head out, for the time being.

"Will you be all right, Ms. Grayson?" he asked, truly concerned about your health.

"Yes, thank you, Alfred. I’m better now," you said, taking deep breaths as Alfred walked back into the manor.

He dragged the bodies of Dick, Tim, and Bruce down to the Batcave to say a proper goodbye, with Superman’s help. You knelt beside Dick’s masked body, holding his hand in yours. "How am I going to do this without you, darling?"

A strong hand clasped your shoulder. "It's time to go," Superman said, helping you to your feet. Alfred stood a few feet back, offering his hand to help you into the Batwing. As the jet lifted off the ground, your eyes remained on your dear husband until he finally disappeared from view.

You made it to Metropolis, where the rest of the heroes were gathering with little worry. However, that calm was shattered when an infected Giganta started booming toward the rooftop filled with your allies. Alfred started firing missiles at her while you tried to control her sweeping movements with little success.

After a few missiles, she punched the Batwing out of the air, catapulting you back into your seat as it began hurtling toward the ground. Desperately, Alfred flipped switches and pulled controls, trying to stop the plane’s freefall.

But you took control, enveloping the ship in your familiar blue glow, safely landing it on the roof adjacent to where the surviving members of the Justice League stood.

"Father?" You caught a glimpse of Damian running toward the broken and battered Batwing as Alfred helped you out of the wreckage.

"Damian, I am so sorry, son," was all Alfred could say as he opened the briefcase on the concrete roof.

With sad eyes, he looked up to you. "Dick?"

You shook your head, and in an instant, Damian’s arms were around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight embrace. You held him close, knowing that Dick and Damian had a special bond. Damian was like a little brother to you, and you felt his pain so deeply and sincerely.

"Everything will be all right," you sniffled as he pulled away and went over to Alfred, who showed him what was in the case—a brand new Batman costume, meant for Damian to wear.

You saw Superman and Wonder Woman fly off, and after a shaking boom crumbled the city around you, Black Canary—now Earth’s new Green Lantern—saved the top of the Daily Planet, where the survivors were.

Over the course of the next few days, Wonder Woman, Superman, Superboy, Flash, and Kid Flash severed the internet connection across the entire planet.

After a week, you helped the new Batman, Green Arrow, and Green Lantern get to Gotham unharmed, only to see a massive jungle surrounding what used to be your city.

"Oh, Ivy," you said, running into her arms as soon as you saw her. Your team, the Birds of Prey, had frequently assisted—and been assisted by—Poison Ivy to the point where she was basically a member. When you got pregnant, she made you different tea concoctions to soothe your aching joints and painful migraines.

"Thank the stars," she whispered, holding you closer. "I was afraid that the virus had gotten you too."

"Why’s that?" You worried about what she was going to say because the look on her face was anything but reassuring.

"Catwoman, Huntress, Batgirl, and Batwoman attacked us, Sugar Bear," Harley said, giving you a big hug and looking down at your belly. "I told Auntie Ivy not to worry, that your mama would nevea let anythin’ happen to ya."

You chuckled at Harley—some things never change, even in an apocalypse.

"Pamela, we’re looking for sanctuary for survivors," Damian cut the reunion short, and Ivy barely gave him a second glance.

"Oh, that."

"We’ve already started this conversation."

Ivy eventually agreed, as long as you would stay in her safe haven and that there would be rules and screenings for those who were let in.

You agreed because both Ivy and Damian said it would be safest for you and your baby in Gotham. Which is ironic, seeing as just last week you and Dick were looking at schools outside of the crime-ridden city.

The magically protected jungle would keep anyone who was turned out, therefore keeping everyone safe. You asked Damian to stay as well, but he said the world needed him.

With the strongest hug you could muster, you said goodbye to Damian, who said it wasn’t goodbye, that he would see you again soon.

~~~

You hadn’t expected to see another living member of the Bat-Family until, during a rare moment of sleep, your radio crackled with Ivy's voice.

"Hey, there’s someone here I think you’ll want to see."

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you glanced over at the crib only a few feet away. Your son was sound asleep, his little mouth open, showing off his gums.

A smile tugged at your lips as you carefully placed him in the baby wrap on your chest. His striking icy blue eyes and gummy smile were a perfect reflection of his father. It almost made you laugh. "Come on, hun, I suppose there’s someone we need to see."

Your baby let out a soft laugh, making you smile as you descended the stairs from your apartment to the ground level. Outside, children were running around, listening to Poison Ivy reassure them that they were safe within the confines of her jungle.

Harley waved at you enthusiastically and pointed toward a statue where a man in a brown leather jacket was standing, staring at it.

Your brows furrowed in recognition, and you started walking toward him. "Jason?"

He quickly turned at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening as he saw you with your baby in your arms. "You’re alive?"

Jason approached you cautiously, his gaze fixed on the little one in your arms. "And who might this be?"

His hand brushed against his eyes, wiping away tears that threatened to spill over. "Jason, this is Richard Bruce Grayson. Richard, this is your Uncle Jay."

You carefully slipped your baby out of the wrap and placed him into Jason's stiff arms. At first, he held the child at arm’s length, unsure and hesitant. But when Richard began to giggle and gurgle hysterically, Jason brought him close, holding him tenderly.

"He looks just like him," Jason murmured, his eyes never leaving your baby. "A Boy Wonder. A new hope."

[cemeteryspider]

DCeased: Shadows of the Bat

Jason Todd x GN! Constantine! Reader

Summary: In a Gotham overrun by chaos and loss, you and Jason Todd struggle to survive and escape the city while confronting the devastating deaths of their loved ones.

*Set in the DCeased Universe*

*No use of Y/N*

Trigger Warnings: Death of Loved Ones, Gore, Violence, Zombie Apocalypse, Grief, Summoning of the Dead, Sacrifice

Word Count: 1.8k

You made your way to Wayne Manor as soon as you heard about the virus. The exterior of the mansion almost looked peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos erupting across Gotham. For a moment, you could almost imagine Bruce inside, sipping his black coffee at 5 a.m., preparing for another day after a long night of fighting crime. But as you stepped inside, you felt a chill crawl up your spine—a telltale sign that something was very wrong.

The air inside the manor was thick with a metallic scent, the smell of blood lingering like a ghost in the hallways. The once-pristine carpets were stained with dark, dried blood, and shards of broken mirrors littered the floor, reflecting your fragmented reflection. Your breath quickened as your eyes fell upon a particularly large bloodstain, smeared as though something or someone had been dragged down to the Batcave.

You carefully maneuvered through the glass, trying to muffle the crunching sound beneath your boots. The manor was silent—too silent. Every step you took echoed in the emptiness, and as you descended the long, dark staircase to the cave. At the bottom, you paused, straining your ears for any sign of movement—breathing, footsteps—but the silence remained unbroken.

Turning the corner, you found them. Three bodies lay side-by-side, the Bat-Family, still and lifeless. A long black cape draped over one, a familiar blue symbol on another. You blinked rapidly, fighting back tears, but they welled up regardless, blurring your vision. The overwhelming urge to flee seized you, to run back up the stairs and search the streets of Gotham for Jason, but you couldn't bring yourself to leave. You needed to know for certain.

Cautiously, you approached the bodies. Each step felt heavier than the last until you were close enough to see their faces. Your hands trembled as you peeled back their masks, revealing the familiar features of your friends—no, your family. Red Robin, Batman, Nightwing... All gone.

Your knees buckled, and you sank against the nearest wall, burying your face in your hands as tears streamed down your cheeks. What use were your powers if you couldn't protect the people you loved most? The thought gnawed at you, a cruel reminder of your limitations. Your sobs were the only sound in the cave until the door creaked open, and you heard heavy footsteps descending the stairs.

Instinctively, you reached for your lighter, ready to defend yourself with a burst of flame, but you hesitated as a familiar figure emerged from the shadows—Jason. Relief flooded through you, and you flung yourself into his arms, burying your face in his neck as he held you tightly.

"I was so worried, baby," you whispered, feeling the cool metal of his helmet against your cheek. With a clatter, he removed it and tossed it aside.

"Me too, doll," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You clung to each other, drawing strength from his presence. When he finally pulled away, Jason's eyes wandered to the three bodies lying on the ground. His expression froze as he stared at the fallen members of his family. The normally stoic Red Hood blinked rapidly, struggling to keep his composure.

"They can't stay like this..." His voice was barely above a whisper, his grief evident.

You gently placed a hand on his shoulder, offering what little comfort you could. "I can bring them upstairs if you want to..."

Jason sniffled, quickly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand before standing up, fists clenched in a vain attempt to suppress the tears threatening to spill over. "Yes, that would be very helpful."

As Jason's heavy boots echoed up the stairs, you were left alone with the bodies once more. Your heart ached, but you knew what you had to do. Retrieving your spellbook from its hiding place, you flipped through the pages, your fingers trembling slightly. The ancient incantation you needed was familiar yet no less daunting. You gathered three pieces of parchment, carefully inscribing the incantation on each one, and placed them on the bodies.

Standing over them, you began to chant, your voice low and commanding. "Admovendum corpus, spiritus vagans, audite me. Per vim occultam, surgat corpus hoc et locum mutet!"

The temperature in the cave plummeted, your breath visible in the cold air as the lights flickered ominously. The bodies, once still and lifeless, began to rise slowly, as if pulled by unseen strings. With a gentle nudge of your powers, you guided them up the stairs and out to the estate's cemetery, where you knew Martha and Thomas Wayne were buried.

Jason was already there, digging a second grave beside the first. You laid Tim’s body in the freshly dug earth, waiting patiently as Jason finished preparing the other two. Once he started to cover the bodies with dirt, you turned your attention to creating makeshift gravestones. Large boulders were carved with the names of the deceased, and you carefully set them in place.

"What do you want them to say, Jason?" you asked softly.

Jason was lost in thought, staring at Dick’s headstone as if in a trance. When you repeated the question, he knelt beside the stone, guiding your hand to engrave words that reflected what his family meant to him. His arm wrapped around you as tears flowed freely, his sobs shaking his entire body.

"I never thought it would be them, you know," he choked out, his voice filled with heartbreak.

You held him tighter, offering silent comfort as he grieved. The memory of your own father abandoning you in the rain flashed through your mind, a reminder of the pain that only family could cause. But your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a low growl.

You and Jason whipped around, weapons ready, only to see Ace, the loyal Bat-Hound, trotting toward you. Relief washed over you as you knelt down, petting the dog, while Jason took a deep breath, regaining his composure.

Ace led you back to the Batcave, where he stopped in front of the Batmobile, his eyes fixed on it. Jason chuckled sadly, "He never did let me drive the car."

You gave him a small, bittersweet smile, then turned to the Batmobile. "Car, show me the locations of all the Bat-Family in Gotham other than Jason."

"Eight located in Gotham, Mx. Constantine."

Jason's expression darkened as he asked, "How many with heartbeats?"

"Two."

Your heart sank as you climbed into the passenger seat, Jason taking the driver’s seat. The Batmobile's display showed two small bat symbols—Cassandra Cain and Damian Wayne. "Take me to Cassandra," Jason commanded, and the car’s GPS began calculating a route to the GCPD.

The drive through Gotham was harrowing. The Batmobile’s tires crunched over countless bodies, living and dead, as you made your way through the city’s ravaged streets. When you finally arrived at the GCPD, Jason rammed the Batmobile straight into the cell block, the vehicle’s armor shielding you from the chaos outside.

"Batman?" Jim Gordon’s voice was shaky as he approached, but Jason only lifted his helmet slightly, revealing his face.

"No, not Batman. Get in."

Jim and Cassandra quickly climbed into the backseat with Ace, and once again, you were speeding through the streets of Gotham. Jason explained your plan to escape the city, but Jim interrupted, desperation in his voice. "No, we can’t leave. Not yet. My daughter is out there somewhere."

Your heart ached as you turned to Jim, knowing the truth. "No, Commissioner, Barbara is... gone."

Jim’s face contorted in denial, his voice trembling. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Car, show heart monitor for Barbara Gordon."

The low hum of the Batmobile’s display filled the air as a flatline appeared on the screen. You averted your eyes, unable to meet Jim’s gaze as he stared at the evidence of his daughter’s death.

"How do you...?" Jim’s voice faltered as realization dawned on him, his eyes flicking between Jason and Cassandra. "Jason. Cassandra..."

"We’re the only ones alive in Gotham, so we have to get out," Jason said softly.

But Jim shook his head, his voice breaking. "I have to see for myself, Jason."

Reluctantly, Jason guided the Batmobile to the location indicated by the tracker. There, strung up in vines, was Barbara’s body, limp and lifeless. Jim fell to his knees before his daughter, tears streaming down his face as he struggled to accept the sight before him.

"Oh, God," he whispered, his voice cracking.

Through his tears, Jim looked up at you, desperation in his eyes. "Do you think you could... you know."

The request hung in the air, heavy with the weight of what he was asking. Summoning the dead was never easy, and it was something you had always hesitated to do. But this was Jim, and Barbara was a friend who never got to say goodbye. You gave him a small nod, feeling Jason’s hand tighten around yours in support.

You began to mutter the ancient words under your breath, calling forth Barbara’s spirit. The air grew colder, a chill settling over the alleyway as shadows twisted and contracted around Barbara’s body. Slowly, her ghostly form materialized, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and pain that gradually softened as she realized she was no longer in pain.

“Why did you call me back? I thought I was finally free…” Barbara’s voice was barely a whisper, carried on the wind. Her eyes met yours, filled with hurt and confusion.

But before you could respond, Jim stepped forward, his voice trembling. "I asked her to, Barb. I just needed to see you one last time."

Barbara’s gaze softened as she looked at her father, still wearing her Batgirl suit. "Oh, Dad, I’m sorry I never told you."

She reached out to hug him, but her spectral form passed through him, sending a shiver down his spine. Your hands were growing colder, the strain of maintaining the connection to Barbara’s spirit taking its toll.

Jim reached out as if to take Barbara’s hand, though he knew it was futile. "Oh, it’s okay. I am so proud of you and everything you’ve done to help our city. We all have a debt we can never repay you. I love you so much."

Barbara’s form began to flicker, her connection to the physical world weakening. “I love you too, Dad,” she whispered before vanishing in a gust of wind.

Jim wiped away his tears, his voice thick with emotion as he turned to you. "Thank you."

You nodded, understanding the depth of his gratitude as he retreated to the back of the Batmobile, needing time to process his grief. You exchanged a glance with Jason and Cassandra, a silent agreement to give him the space he needed.

"Want to help me string the Joker onto the hood of the car?" Jason asked, gesturing to the lifeless body of the man who had caused him so much pain.

You shook your head in disbelief, leaning against the brick wall with Cassandra as you watched Jason attach the Joker’s body to the front of the Batmobile. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but feel a small, bitter sense of satisfaction as the Batmobile roared to life, ready to leave Gotham behind.

[cemeteryspider]

Counting Cards

Beginnings of Remy Lebeau x Fem! Mutant! Omni-Perception! Reader

Summary: You meet the one and only Gambit while counting cards at a blackjack table in New York.

Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, Mentioned Financial Hardships, Gambling, Threats of Violence

Word Count: 1.7k

You had once been a hopeful dreamer, a girl with aspirations beyond the impoverished streets of your hometown. But desperation often has a way of grinding the edges of ambition and of making sacrifices that would seem unthinkable in the cold light of day. The multi-millionaire you now worked for was the epitome of this sacrifice- a devil’s bargain struck in the shadows in an attempt to pull your family from poverty and homelessness. 

Draped in the guise of glamor, platinum blond hair that cascaded down your shoulders and a dress that clung to your every curve, you became a fixture of opulent casinos around the world. Your role was simple yet complex at the very same time, to work the system, to be alluring to wealthy men, and to subtly manipulate the games in their favor. Your powers that you once tried to hide from your few friends and family became your best asset, heaviest burden, and the thing allowing you to save said family. 

This casino’s ambiance in particular was a symphony of loud laughs, hushed whispers, clinking chips, shuffling cards, and soft hum of slot machines. You sat next to a man in a three piece suit, your perfectly rehearsed giggle punctuated the air as you played the role of doting oblivious girlfriend. The subtle squeeze of his bicep or playful slap on his shoulder after a crude joke were all part of the act. Beneath this ignorant charade, your keen eyes kept track of every card dealt, every chip moved, and every twitch of the dealer’s fingers. 

As the count turned positive, you leaned closer, your breath warm against the client’s ear as you rubbed his back in a soothing, almost hypnotic motion. He raised the bet and the game continued. The soft trail of your fingers on his thigh signaled him to play cautiously, to avoid drawing too much attention to the two of you. His decision to stand earned a small, approving smile from you, a reassurance he was making the correct choice. The dealer's cards came into play, and your silent communication continued, your touch a subtle command to the man beside you.

Your powers were a delicate instrument, a secret weapon that influenced the game in ways no one else could detect. The thrill of winning by proxy was intoxicating, but it came with a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. The money wasn’t for you; the small amount you earned went to your family, trapped in a cycle of dependency and fear, their safety hanging by a thread. 

The final hand was dealt. Your eyes flickered briefly, a faint glow that only those who knew what to look for would notice. Just then, a tap on your shoulder pulled you from your intense focus. A tall figure stood behind you, his presence commanding and enigmatic.

"Would you come with me, ma'am?" His voice was thick with a Cajun accent, smooth and charismatic. You turned, a polite smile forming on your lips even before you met his eyes. His auburn hair was tied back in a messy bun, and his irises glowed a striking red against the blackness of his sclera. Recognition flashed in your mind—this was Gambit, a mutant you had seen on TV, a member of the X-Men.

"Sure, let me just grab my purse," you replied with practiced calm. As you whispered a quick instruction to your partner to cash out and leave, you felt a pang of unease. What was Gambit doing here? And what did he want with you?

As you followed him through the labyrinthine hallways of the casino and into the adjacent hotel, you noticed the careful avoidance of security cameras and the strategic use of crowded areas. It was a well-practiced maneuver, one you recognized from your own experience.

In a quiet room on the first floor, the door closed behind you with a soft click. The tension in the air was palpable. Gambit, with his easy smile and relaxed posture, seemed unfazed.

"Usually, I wait until the third date to go back to a man's hotel room," you joked, trying to mask your nerves.

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound. "Nah, chere, we've been watchin' you," he said, his eyes locking onto yours. Your heart skipped a beat. How long had they been observing you? How much did they know?

"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of unease. It was rare for you to be caught off guard, but this situation was beyond anything you had prepared for.

"Gambit, my name, chere, and I work for the X-Men," he began, but you cut him off.

"The X-Men, I know. How about we get to the point?" Time was slipping away, and you knew your employer would send someone to check on you if you didn't show up soon.

He nodded, acknowledging your urgency. "The Professor has been watching you. Your abilities are bein', let's say, misspent on petty crimes and swindlin'."

You considered his words carefully. Charles Xavier, the Professor, was a renowned advocate for mutant rights, a figure of immense power and influence. His offer carried weight, but it also came with strings attached.

"So, you want me to join your little team?" The question hung in the air, heavy with implications.

"Gambit was hopin'," he replied, his voice sincere.

You scoffed, shaking your head. "I'm not doing this for myself. I'm doing this for my family." The words came out sharper than you intended, a defense mechanism born of years of hardship.

You turned to leave, but Gambit's hand on your shoulder stopped you. "We know, chere. That's why we've brought them to the mansion. They're safe, chere."

For a moment, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. Your family—safe? It was a concept you had almost given up on. The weight of his words hit you like a tidal wave, your shoulders slumping under the sudden release of tension.

"What?" The question was barely a whisper, your voice breaking with emotion. Could it be true? After everything you had done, everything you had sacrificed, could your family finally be free?

"We're tryin' to take down the people you owe. In doin' that, we found you. Would you come to the mansion with me? No funny business, I swear, chere," Gambit said, his eyes holding a promise of safety and a fresh start.

The ride to the X-Mansion was a blur of emotions and half-formed thoughts. Gambit kept the conversation light, sharing stories of his past life in New Orleans, a thief navigating a world of shadows and secrets. You found yourself opening up, recounting tales of casinos and the intricate cons you'd pulled off. It was a strange, almost surreal connection, two kindred spirits from different walks of life.

As the mansion loomed into view, your heart pounded in your chest. The sprawling estate was both intimidating and inviting. Stepping out of the car, you saw your family on the lawn, your younger siblings playing tag, your parents looking more relaxed than you had seen them in years. Relief washed over you, bringing tears to your eyes. They were safe.

But as you reunited, the reality of the situation set in. Your family couldn't stay; the dangers were too great. They needed to leave the country, to start anew far from the reach of those who might seek revenge. It was a bittersweet moment, the joy of their safety tempered by the knowledge that you might have to part ways.

The Professor, Charles Xavier himself, approached you. His presence was calm and reassuring. "Or you could stay here," he offered, his voice gentle but firm. "Learn to use your powers, control them effortlessly for good. Be a part of my X-Men."

You stood at the edge of the mansion's expansive lawn, watching your family with a mixture of relief and heartache. The sight of your younger siblings laughing as they played, your parents' shoulders finally free of the burdens they'd carried for so long, filled you with a profound sense of peace. But beneath that peace, there was an undercurrent of something more—a longing for a life that meant something beyond survival and crime.

The choice before you was clear, yet impossibly difficult. The urge to stay with your family was strong, an instinctual pull toward the people you had fought so hard to protect. But as you looked at the X-Mansion, you felt the stirrings of a different kind of desire—the desire to be more than a pawn in someone else's game, to use your abilities for good and perhaps even change the world.

You took a deep breath, your decision solidifying in your mind. Turning to your family, you saw understanding in their eyes. They had always known the risks, the sacrifices. But they also knew the strength of your spirit, the potential you had yet to unleash.

With a sudden burst of emotion, you ran towards them, wrapping them in a fierce embrace. They hugged you back tightly, their warmth and love surrounding you. It was a moment of silent communication, a farewell and a blessing all at once. They understood your choice, even if it meant a painful separation.

Pulling back, you looked into their eyes, your voice steady but filled with emotion. "I would love to join you guys. Maybe change the world one day."

There was a beat of silence, then Gambit, who had been watching quietly from the sidelines, stepped forward. His eyes sparkled with approval, a lopsided grin on his face. "Good choice, chere," he said, his voice carrying a note of camaraderie and promise.

You nodded, feeling a sense of resolve wash over you. This was the start of a new chapter, a chance to reclaim your autonomy and forge your own path. As you watched your family wave goodbye and drive away, you felt a mixture of sadness and hope. They were safe, and so were you. But more importantly, you were free to finally make your life your own.

With a deep breath, you turned toward the mansion, your new home and the place where your true journey would begin. You were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, to fight for a better world alongside the X-Men. As you walked through the mansion's grand doors, you felt a sense of purpose you had never known before. You were no longer just a player in someone else's game; you were a hero in the making, with the power to change the world.

[cemeteryspider]

The Two of Cups

Remy Lebeau x Mutant! Reader

Summary: Your ability was an innate connection with the world around you which lead you to the Xavier Mansion. As well as a certain Louisiana man.

Word Count: 2.6k

You were an oddball in the mutant community and an outcast of society. Largely you found peace in knowing this due to your connection to the spiritual relam. You found solace in the trees and wind and comfort in the changing seasons. In the lush grass and flower petals that dried your tears when no person was around for you.

Your mind often drifts, allowing you to find new places, unseen by human (or mutant) eyes in thousands of years. Some caves drew you in and allowed you to commune with wandering spirits, other times on high mountains the water would guide you through and out of danger.

It was a mutual trust, that you would respect the natural or physical world and the spirit world would guide you. Sometimes this leads to crystal shops with experts in divination or sad girls who would have their cards read by you and give their lives new meaning and a more hopeful disposition.

So you followed the whispers of the wind and the pull towards new adventures until you came across a quite large estate called Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. You were no longer a "youngster" but still you padded on allowing the soft grass to show you the way to your next venture as you had done so many times before.

A man in an advanced looking wheelchair greeted you at the door, "Ah you are the one I saw in Cerebro. Definitely not what I was expecting."

He looked you up and down from the long thick skirts that gently brushed the ground to your hair you kept up and out of your face. His stare wasn't like any you felt before.

It wasn't the stare your friends gave when you first started reading the cards and could practically see through the girls you read. It wasn't the scared stare your parents gave you when they found you levitating in the air with the cards circling you in a protective manner. It certainly wasn't the stare of the people who yelled at you calling you a witch when walking the otherwise quiet streets of a small town. No, it was a state of awe and understanding.

"Pleased to meet you Mr. Xavier, my name is Y/n and it seems as though something pulled me to this place. Something strong," You looked around and saw children running around in the yard and teenagers practicing fledgling powers under the canopy of trees.

"No, the pleasure is all mine. There have been mutterings of someone with a spiritual connection roaming New York for the past few weeks, and when I saw you on Cerebro I knew I simply had to meet you."

The side of your mouth quirked up and you reached out your hand, which he gladly accepted, "Show me."

He guided you through the main building showing off classrooms filled with students learning math and history. Rooms dedicated to combat and self-defense. There were bedrooms, some colorful, some minimalist, and some dark and gloomy. Each place radiated a different emotion, the classrooms were focused with hints of boredom. The training rooms had an air of confidence and a slight fear of failure. Bedrooms had remnants of comfort and happiness, sadness, rest, wakefulness, love, and pity. Rarely were places so difficult to pin down.

He spoke about the architecture and the school's mission. You listened thoughtfully. Running your fingers along hundred year old wood paneling, and studying repairs made to walls carefully done to match. The kitchen had a rustic charm to it despite the overwhelmingly grandiose spectacle that was the rest of the estate.

Lastly you were on an elevator toward the lower floors of the mansion which were the newest additions to the property if the shift of decor told you the right story. There were endless halls of silver and doors with identity verification and a big doorway at the end with an X over it.

For a moment it overwhelmed you, never once in your travels were you taken to a place so modern, maybe even futuristic. The old towns with stories of witchcraft embedded into their history or rustic cabins next to trees that were hundreds of years old. Even to cliff faces that had been carved into by ancient peoples whose art can only be vaguely understood.

Except now you were in a different atmosphere, but with what you assumed to be the same goal, to help these people find themselves and provide guidance.

~~~

You entered a room whose ceiling was opened showing the sky and a winged jet landing in the room you were standing in. People descended the short flight of stairs to the floor and looked at Xavier and then to you.

"Is everything alright, professor?" A guy with what seemed to be a red visor covering his eyes. Despite his eyes being covered you could feel the concern radiating off of him. You almost scoffed at the thought that you would harm or threaten the man sitting next to you, but then you remembered how weary you were when you first started traveling the country and eventually the world.

After all, you were kicked out of the house with just what you could carry in your backpack. Even before that being cast aside by classmates who didn't understand you.

"Everything is perfectly fine, Scott. My X-Men I would like to introduce you to Y/n, the mutant I've been telling you about," He smiled and gestured toward you. It seemed as though that flipped a switch in the people before you.

They started to approach you starting with Scott, "I'm Scott Summers, also known as Cyclops, leader of the X-Men," He left you with a firm handshake.

Then a red-head, "I'm Jean Grey, a telepath and telekinetic, part of the X-Men. I've felt your presence in the psychic plane long before we met. It's a pleasure to finally connect with you face-to-face," She gave you a gentle hug and indeed it felt as though you've known each other for a long time.

You met others as well like Ororo, Rogue, and Jubilee but one person in particular seemed to catch your eye, "Bonjour, ma chérie! The name's Gambit, but you can call me Remy if you like."

He extended his hand to you but instead of the handshake the men before had offered he flipped your hand over and kissed your knuckles. You could feel your cheeks heat up, and he walked away with a wink.

"Why does the Cajun get all the pretty ladies that come in?" a figure with grayish-white skin, white eyes, and indistinct features grumbled beside a short man with prominent sideburns.

"Finally, my time to introduce myself. I'm Morph, probably second or maybe third in the mansion's prettiest man competition," he laughed, giving you a friendly pat on the back. "See you around, Tarot."

Then the man with sideburns grumbled something nearly incomprehensible but you could catch the word Logan in the midst of the mumbles.

"Those were the X-Men, my own vision and step toward human and mutant coexistence. I hope that you will stay and perhaps guide the wandering souls that reside here."

For a moment you felt a reluctance, the hope for an adventurer's life still called, wandering the Earth helping as many people as you could handle. Spending as much time as possible in the woods and a life outside the public eye. Then you remembered the pull and how it has never lead you to a place you didn't enjoy or to people you didn't befriend.

So you stayed.

A month after that fateful day you had become an integral member of the Xavier Institute. Caring for hurt children by bandaging their wounds, acting as sort of a counselor for the teenagers who feel abandoned or children who are having a hard time transitioning, and most importantly restoring spiritual balance to the mansion.

Though not quite as spiritual, the Professor, as you had taken to calling him, allowed you to place spiritual protection around the house. Selenite in window sills to cleanse the area and promote positivity. Placed black tourmaline near the doors of the house to absorb negative energies that may come through. Amethyst near the bedrooms for calming energies.

You often could be seen walking around the house with a burning sage bundle in your hand waving it around doorways and windows and sometimes circling the crystals with it. To some of the X-Men it was odd to them, but then they saw the effects on the students.

Some of them were able to look at one of the crystals in any of the rooms in the house and take a deep breath grounding themselves, and then take another stab at what they were working on. Whether that be a math equation, a vocab word, or a new skill with their abilities. Sometimes they even went to you for advice and even asked you to read their cards, which you did every once in a while.

If someone were to peek into the office, that Charles Xavier graciously granted you when you brought it up one day, they would usually see the three card spread. Past, Present, and Future. You gave comfort to the children worried about their lives and if they'll survive their adolescence. Maybe the clarity spreads for teenagers who have a specific situation they want insight on, whether it be a lover, a friendship, or even their mutant abilities.

One day when you were shuffling your deck you heard a sharp knock on the door, "Come in."

None other than Remy Lebeau walked through the door. He looked a tad nervous around at your dimly lit office filled with candles and burning incense.

You had been getting to know him more recently. One on one sparring with him while the rest of the team had paired up. Or sat next to each other at briefings and meals. Sometimes he even sat in your office grabbing bandages or holding hands as you disinfected wounds.

"Hey, Cher... Gambit was wonderin'... maybe you could read my cards,'' He was sharply eyeing a specific crystal with uneasiness. You were aware that he didn't mess with the supernatural.

Your brows furrow and you sit up straighter, "There's no magic here Remy, just a connection to the spiritual, its connection to me, and my connection to the cards."

His eyes soften and he quickly sits in the comfy chair on the other side of your table, "Okay Cher, I trust you."

He came from New Orleans, a deeply spiritual place with strong links to history, slavery, and powerful spiritual figures. You had observed the thin veil between the physical and spiritual during a couple of your many adventures, but you never felt the need to stay. You knew exactly when your time in New Orleans was done as soon as it was, then usually by the next day you were off again.

"Okay, hon," You started shuffling the cards between your hands and between your fingers as you speak, "What are you looking to ask the spirits?"

"Well, I was wonderin', well there's this girl I really like, and I was wondering what I should do about it?" He was idly picking at his fingers, staring at the cards in your hands, or at the walls, really anywhere but your eyes.

You toyed with some ideas in your head for a moment before choosing a spread of your own creation, "This will be a three card spread, the first card is how you really feel about her, no rose tinted glasses no nothing, the second card is how she feels about you, and the third is whether you should act on this or not."

"Okay, petite, let's do this," You fan the cards out and allow him to choose the cards he is most drawn to. You saw him crack his knuckles and reach for the cards. As he touched them you felt a pull towards him, and once the last card was set on the table you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in.

You gesture him to flip the first card over, and the face of the card is revealed. Four tall pillars holding up greenery with two people and a castle in the background.

You smile at the card, "The Four of Wands."

Remy looked up at you patiently and waited for your words, "This woman is your idealistic love. The universe has gifted you with your perfect match."

A smile started to play on his lips and you nodded your head toward the second card on the table. A naked blonde woman collecting water under a sky brightly filled with stars.

"This is The Star. This is a romantic and spiritual connection, there is a force known or unknown drawing her to you and most likely vice versa," You glance over at Remy's growing smile, "Is this going as you had planned?"

He looked up at you with wide eyes, and shook it off quickly, "Chere, I'm... I'm not sure."

You place your hand on his, "Will you flip the last card, Chere?"

You placed your hand over the familiar card and gently flipped it over. The people facing each other holding chalices.

"This is The Two of Cups, a deep mutual understanding usually of a romantic nature. Looking at this spread I see two people being drawn together both by proximity and spiritual connection. The you should tell her how you feel as the cards seem to point to a potential romantic relationship forming," You look up at him waiting for him to say something.

"Well, Chere, I thought you would talk me out of doing this, but it seems that the stars have aligned," He took a deep breath before looking deeply into your eyes, "Ever since I first saw you, I've felt drawn to you. Moth to a flame and all that, but I wasn't sure about how to approach the topic. I guess I'll just go for it, would you like to go out with Gambit sometime."

You could see him nervously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and his eyes darting across your face. All you could do was smile, "Yes, Remy I would love to go out with you." 

An all out smile formed on his face from ear to ear, the crows feet at the edges of his eyes crinkled. It wasn't long before you were sitting in the kitchen late at night and enjoying Louisiana cuisine made by the Cajun himself.

Then it was a walk around the garden at dawn or training together that inevitably lead to making out against the walls of the Danger Room and quickly rezipping suits and pulling on garments seconds before the next set of people were scheduled to come in.

It had been a few months after you had made the relationship official and you were moving your collection of crystals, books, and other spiritual items into Remy's room with his help of course when you had realized you hadn't felt the pull to leave. You had finally found a place to call home, where you truly belonged and the spiritual world was letting you rest. After years of wondering and meeting and leaving you had found a place to stay.

The very next hour you had approached Charles Xavier and agreed to stay. You had been discussing teaching art and self-control classes with him for a little while, but now you were committed to staying as long as he would have you.

That came with a permanent place among the X-Men team which you happily accepted. 

[cemeteryspider]

Oh No!

Warnings: Heavy Sibling x Sibling implications. HL is gross and has an odd obsession with himself which will be a part of the story a little bit going forward. There will be nothing explicit but for reference Reader-Insert is of age and I'm thinking mid-twenties and Homelander is a little bit older since I'm pretty sure his age is never stated in the show. If you are looking for a Homelander x Reader THIS IS NOT IT!!!

Summary: You attend and event and try your best to sabotage yourself, Homelander, and Vought in the process.

Trigger Warnings: Abuse, Violence, Mental Health Issues, Controlling Relationships, Gross Sibling Relationship

Word Count: 785

Weeks passed and slowly you started recognizing yourself in the mirror again. You started with the small things at first like the old lipstick you pushed to the back of your cosmetics drawer because John said it made you look like a cheap hooker. Or the perfume he said invaded his nostrils and made him want to laser his own brain.

Still it wasn't enough to satisfy your insatiable need to piss off your brother and Vought International. So, you went all out. 

For the premiere of some stupid movie or other you wore a sheer dress with black lace swirls that left little to the imagination. Tall golden heels and had your makeup done by someone who did professional pornstars makeup. It made your back straighten and a real smile across your face for what felt like the first time in an eternity. You felt nothing like yourself, but at the same time you looked nothing like the mannequin Vought often used you as.

You loved it and hated it at the sametime. Nothing was going to get in the way of your night of crossing the line out from under Homelander and Vought’s shadow. Vought would later call this "little stunt", "unbecoming of America's number 2 supe", but you didn't care anymore. So you kept going above and beyond the outfit and makeup, you played the part of a ditzy beautiful drunk. 

More importantly you were showing the world you weren't John's little toy to play with nor were Vought's puppet they could make dance. You were someone with thoughts and feelings, and you were going to make sure the world did not forget this.

That night you were all over the big wigs in Hollywood, constantly drinking different drinks from dirty martinis to fruity pink cocktails to Miller Lite to get a buzz that your powers constantly wanted to stamp out. Walking around the party wondering who you would walk up to next, the man in the burgundy suit or the woman with diamond studded earrings. You felt intrigued by these regular people only here because of their lined pockets, and wanted to be able to know them and what their normal lives were like.

Still you went on, laughing too loudly at jokes made by people who didn't like you because they didn't know you. Drinking anything offered by anyone with a tray and casually avoiding your brother who seemed to be tailing you waiting for the right time to stop you from ruining the empire he and Vought had delicately built.

"You know," You slurred to an attractive woman on the red carpet, "We could make out higher than Vought Tower after this. You'd just need to hold on tight."

Her face flushed and you giggled at her sweet tomato red face. Then you felt a rough hand grip your upper arm tightly, "I think it's time to go."

You tried to wrench your arm out of his grip but nothing was working. Short of an all out fight you were not going to be able to free yourself, so you let him drag you out, grabbing a delicate glass of champagne on the way out the back, and waving to the pretty girl you had been flirting with for the past few minutes. 

"What the fuck do you think your doing. You're slobbering over our stockholders," He whisper-shouted at you once he dragged you out outside of the event by the dumpsters, but you just let a grin split your face in two.

"This is me John! You're just upset because I know exactly what I want and exactly who I want to be and you're not a part of either of those things. How does that feel, John? Not even your own genetic equal wants anything to do with you!" You full on shouted at him. Part of you hoped that a journalist was on the other side of the door recording the whole thing but you couldn't hear a heartbeat.

"You're drunk, Y/n. I'm not having this conversation with you. You're never going to get anything better than this," He scoffed and gestured to himself and the door. At this point the strong drinks were wearing off and leaving your system to deal with reality as it was and the puny flute of champagne was not cutting it anymore.

"No, John, I'm not. I'm done with this and I'm not going to be Vought's machine pumping out propaganda and fake saves anymore," He laughed in your face.

"Good luck with that. You're nothing without me." He took the door back to the event and you started to walk away.

"Yeah I guess we'll see about that."

[cemeteryspider]

Obsessions

Short-Lived Queen Maeve x Homelander's Sibling! Reader

Warnings: Heavy Sibling x Sibling implications. HL is gross and has an odd obsession with himself which will be a part of the story a little bit going forward. There will be nothing explicit but for reference Reader-Insert is of age and I'm thinking mid-twenties and Homelander is a little bit older since I'm pretty sure his age is never stated in the show. If you are looking for a Homelander x Reader THIS IS NOT IT!!!

Summary: This was the day you decided that you were done being Homelander's pet, and wanted something more than the gilded cage he provided you. Based on the Marina and The Diamonds song Obsessions.

Trigger Warnings: Abuse, Violence, Sexual Content, Mental Health Issues, Controlling Relationships, Gross Sibling Relationship

Word Count: 1.9k

Sitting up in silk sheets, high up in Vought Tower looking out into the city somehow made you feel vulnerable. As if you couldn't fly or laser your way out of most situations that life threw at you. The rest could be solved with tight clothes and flashing your white teeth at the nearest camera or the person with the deepest pockets.

Still standing near the full glass window, you felt the cool glass pane under your fingertips, imagining the dizzying free-fall to the concrete below. Sometimes you fantasized about what hitting the ground would feel like, but mostly you stood far away from the window. Waiting for the day you weren’t scared to fall.

But like usual you walked into the bathroom and shoved your toothbrush around your mouth trying to get rid of the gross morning breath. This was the part of your life Vought and your brother tried so hard to scrub from the public's view. The part that made you feel human. Brushing the grossness from your mouth in the morning, picking at the skin around your fingernails, your bleeding and cracked lips from years of biting. All private, photoshopped, and covered in a thick layer of make-up.

When you inspected your face in the mirror you found tear tracks running down your face. Gently you wiped one with your finger and inspected it. Many things baffled you about being a superhero. Mostly it was the thought that you could give hope to so many people but you couldn't pull yourself out of your own despair. Still you rinse your mouth and splashed your face with freezing cold water, trying your hardest to clear your mind.

Then the door to your room clicked open as you stepped out of the bathroom. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, readying yourself for the day,”'Hey John, what are we doing today?"

You turned to see your older brother looking at you. He was already dressed in his suit. Some things never change after all, "Well a meeting with the rest of The Seven, training, a new movie we have to go over the details of and I don't know maybe we fly around and go get some dinner."

He always had your schedule memorized. You didn't even need to think about talking to Ashley because he was wholly concerned with where you were at all times. You used to be the same way. After all, the lab was so structured when you and he were there, and you were never far apart whether it be rooms separated only by a wall, which never did anything with the two of you having super hearing, or being burned alive together and watching the other regenerate one painful skin cell at a time.

Always together. Halves of the same coin. That's what they always told you and now what he tells you every chance he gets. Roughly, he grabs your arm and pulls you close, his breath hot against your face. This was his way of showing his power over you, and you didn’t show fear. You simply stared him down.

"I've gotta get dressed, John," You tried not to fight him. It always ended up worse when you tried to fight him.

He let you go and your feet hit the ground with a rough thump. You hadn't even noticed they weren't on the ground.

You changed into your suit, nearly identical to Homelander's in every way shape and form. Except you refused to have a cape on your suit. You didn't want to be like him in any way now but this was the only modification you were allowed to make without serious repercussions from your brother.

He was facing away from you but the fact he could turn, and that you could do nothing about it gave him power.

"Come on, sweetheart," He held his hand out for you to take and you did with an almost imperceptible sneer. He pulled you into a tight hug. You could hear him sniffing your hair while his hands found your waist.

You could feel tears welling in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away with one lingering thought. What a creep.

~~~

The conference room was not nearly any better than your room, that was except Maeve was on the other side of Homelander quietly looking over at you. Making eye contact was difficult with her because when you did, you were sure she was looking directly into your soul.

It wasn't that she knew what you were going through but that she could empathize with you. She was Homelander's girlfriend to the public after all. She was no stranger to the gross comments or too tight grips when you get close to saying something wrong or too personal.

You zoned out of the meeting. It was always the same thing with this group of complete idiots. You could feel The Deep's eyes on you, Noir was doing, well whatever he was doing, A-Train grew impatient next to you, Maeve tried to speak her opinion, while Homelander took over the conversation, and you sat there. Thinking.

Who would join you if you started fighting Homelander right now? Maeve, definitely. The Deep, would probably be too shocked to do anything. A-Train would probably be in that boat too, but may eventually step in to your aid. Noir might knock you out after one hit on him.

Another thought... Where would you go if you left? California, maybe, you always wanted to learn how to surf. Ireland, the rain might suit you well. Antarctica would be ideal. You doubt he would look for you there. A small smile crossed your lips and you thought about living in a romanticized version of Antarctica. An igloo perhaps. You would befriend penguins and do absolutely nothing. See no one, no cameras, no fake saves, just you and the endless snow, white in all directions like a visual static.

"...What do you think about that, Y/n?" The Homelander looked at you expectantly. You had no clue what any of this was pertaining to, just that Maeve was smiling and nodding her head.

"Absolutely, I agree and I can't wait." You gave the most generic answer you could muster along with a fake smile.

He smiled back, seemingly satisfied with the response you gave, "Starlight is going to be here tomorrow and you all will be on your best behavior. Make her feel welcome if you see her, we will have another meeting the day after tomorrow to introduce her to the team."

He stood up and clapped his hands, "Alright let's go, save the world people."

You got up trying your best to get out before, "Y/n... a minute please," his smile was that of a predator waiting for its prey to stop and smell the flowers.

"I'll catch up Maeve," She shot you a worried look but you waved her off, you would find her soon enough.

Once the room was vacated his smile snapped off his face, and he quickly stalked his way over to you, "Are you trying to embarass me in front of the team."

His hand found its way around your throat and squeezed, "I mean you're off in your own little dream world. Doing what exactly, you have everything. Adoring fans, a stylist at your beck and call, anyone you want at your fingertips, and most of all you have me."

Then his grip loosened and he looked sad. A wolf in sheep's clothing you had to say, "Is this not enough for you. Am I..."

You kicked him hard and he stumbled back as he landed on the ground, "Get off of me, John. Get a grip."

You nearly ran out of the room when Ashley opened it, clearly not aware of the unscheduled sibling meeting going on in the room.

~~~

"I think this should be a story about love persevering," John said extravagantly talking to the writers after taking his time to cool down, "Maybe a fight against an evil set of twins trying to I don't know this seems like a job for the two of you."

He gestured to the writers and they started jotting down ideas on their notepads, sometimes exchanging ideas with each other and writing some more. You were just staring at the wall across from you thinking about how easy it would be to laser a hole in it.

"I was also thinking," He drew the attention back to him, "Maybe I could save, Y/n, you know carry them off into the sunset."

Your eye twitched and you saw the writers glancing nervously at each other out of the corner of your eye.

"Well, sir, that's a bit..."

"Well you know..."

"What? Kind of what?" John asked and you could almost feel the heat rolling off of him.

"Creepy, John. It's creepy." You said glaring up at him from your seat on Ashley's leather couch.

He scoffed a little, "Well that's not the way I meant it."

"No John, all you ever think about is sick ideas involving me and you, and I'm sick of this!" You gestured around the room as the writers were sneaking out of the room. Ashley came between the two of you.

"Okay, I'm sure he did not mean it in that way. Why don't we cool down and come back to this script later, okay?" She was stepping on eggshells, and you knew you couldn't get her involved in this.

You may not like each other, but there was a tentative sort of mutual respect between the two of you. So you left. The two of you were making her nervous and you couldn't let her get hurt in whatever storm was brewing between you and your brother.

~~~

You didn't feel like doing anything for the rest of the day so you just went back up to your bedroom and laid on the bed staring at the ceiling. You played your favorite game, pretending that you didn't exist and you were just a particle floating in your room. Observing the world impartially and without any thought in particular.

That was until Maeve found you, unmoving. Just staring a hole into your ceiling. So she sat you up and shoved a water bottle to your lips and told you to drink. It was filled with Vodka, which you happily accepted. By no means were the two of you drunk, but it may have played a part in the following actions.

One minute you were talking about how stupid The Deep's facial hair was, the next her lips were on yours, and then you didn't have clothes on. It was a fast progression but not an unenjoyable one. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt so comfortable with a person, but then you realized it was never. You were a science experiment. Tested on with no remorse and shoved into playing the part of the hero.

So you savored each moment her lips were on you. Every time her tongue entered your mouth. Every touch she gave you. Every hair pull and every ounce of pleasure you tried to engrain in your memory.

The next morning when you slid yourself out of Maeve's arms and towards the window you didn't think of falling, but instead you thought of flying far far away from here. Even better taking down Homelander and spitting in his eye.

This was your second wind or maybe it was your third wind by now but that didn't matter. You had a purpose, and you had every intention of living up to it.

[cemeteryspider]

bro in the wake of destruction is so good i love it so much. definitely my favorite remy series i’ve read

Gosh please don't make me cry that's so nice! I really appreciate this! Not to toot my own horn or anything but I have ideas for two more one-shots that I'm really enjoying writing and are pretty good so far. One of them is basically done and the other I need to do a little research for so I'm planning on getting those on the schedule for the second week of August and then hopefully the other one will come soon after. So keep an eye out for those! Other than that thank you for supporting me and I hope you have a wonderful day <3

[cemeteryspider]

In the Wake of Destruction: Part 2

Gambit! Remy LeBeau x Mutant! Fem! Reader

Summary: After Remy's death, you stop being able to process your grief, so you create a time where you don't have to.

*Think WandaVision*

Trigger Warnings: Pregnancy, Death and Grief, Psychological Manipulation, and Emotional Distress

Word Count: 2438

A smile etched itself across your face. The door to your home opened and shut with a single click, and into the kitchen walked your dashing husband, Remy LeBeau. As if you had planned it, you took the sauté pan of shrimp off the stove and onto the table, and plucked the pot from its burner onto the table as well. The spoon levitated out of the drawer and started plating the food. Grits, then shrimp, then some lovely sauce from the pan over top of it.

Remy plucked his plate from the air and sat down at the head of the table. "This looks delicious, Chere!"

You walked up to him at his end of the table and placed a kiss on his forehead. "That's very sweet, darling. Now enjoy."

He spoke to you as you smoothed your dress and apron, sitting down at the other end of the table. "My mama is rollin' in her grave, I've never tasted grits so cheesy and tasty." He continued to pile food into his mouth, and you couldn't help but blush.

"Oh, Remy, what has gotten into you? Being so kind to me!"

He just smiled as he looked up at you. "Not a damn thing, just was wonderin' if you were up for some fun tonight, Chere," The smirk that crossed his face could only mean one thing.

"I think I would be, darling," You smiled right back at him.

~~~

The colors of the world began to bleed onto your face as your belly grew. The sounds of the world were sharper, and smiles brighter. You were ecstatic to be alive. The short dress with bell sleeves made you want to dance the day away, but you had business to attend to. The ladies of the neighborhood gathered around the pool, dipping their toes in the water, drinking beverages, and gossiping about the other women in the neighborhood.

It was one of the most exciting moments of your life when a blonde-bombshell invited you to the pool today. Though pregnant, you were excited to talk to women your own age. When you approached the gate, the blonde came up to you excitedly introducing you to her friends. Their names flew by you so quickly you barely caught any of them, but it didn't seem to matter because soon they were all gushing over your belly and the baby inside.

"Do you think it's a boy or a girl?"

"Do you have names picked out yet?"

"Is the daddy cute?"

"Yeah, tell us all about him."

So you dove into their questions head first. You talked about how you would be delighted about a boy or a girl, that you had some ideas floating around in your head for names but no one would know until the baby arrived, yes your husband was cute, and you went on and on about how wonderful he was.

Pretty soon pool time ended, and all the ladies went home. Well, until the blonde invited herself over to your house, which, to be honest, you didn't mind in the slightest.

"So did you enjoy the pool?" She asked, her voice sweet as honey.

"Yes, I really did, it was nice to get out of the house and just chat with someone," You smiled as you dusted the shelves filled with pictures of you and Remy. Some of them on your wedding day, your honeymoon, a first date picture, even some of prom. You sighed as you tenderly and gently rid them of their dust.

"Why are you pretending?" The question pulled you out of your thoughts.

Your brows furrowed as you put the picture down. "I don't know what you mean by that?"

She looked at you somehow changing outfits in the blink of an eye. "I'm pretty sure you do."

The woman's outfit wasn't the billowing sundress it was a moment ago. It was a stark white jumpsuit with fur lining the collar and wrists. Your eyes narrowed and you considered this for a moment.

"Come on, Y/n, you can't keep this up forever. Just let these innocent people go. They can't fight back."

Your feet left the ground and you stared back at the woman you finally recognized as Emma Frost. "I said. I Don't. Know. What. You're. Talking. About."

With each yell, you got closer and finally with your last breath, you launched her through the wall and out of your house, out of your town, and out of your life.

Calmly you touched the ground again and Remy walked through the door, "Chere! What was that? What's going on?"

He started walking toward you but before you could answer you put your hand on your stomach and groaned, the floor becoming wet beneath you, "Remy... the baby... it's coming."

Now he was rushing over to you and helped you walk over to a chair. Then he rushed to the home phone to call your neighbor, who was a doctor.

Then in an hour, there were two beautiful babies in yours and his arms. "What are we going to name them, Chere?"

You gave him a tired smile. "I think we should name this little guy Charles Logan Lebeau and our lovely little girl Jean Marie Lebeau. After some of our most loyal and dearest friends and family."

"That's perfect. They're perfect."

~~~

"Kids come on! Let's go to the store!" You yelled from the bottom of the stairs up to Charles and Jean. They tore down the steps and rushed to put their shoes on.

"Can we go to the bookstore, mama?" Jean sweetly asked.

"No! Let's go to the arcade!" Charles yelled at his sister.

"No! Mama loves the bookstore! She and I love the bookstore!" She argued.

"I'll do all my chores when we get home!"

The two children kept yelling at you and for a moment you could hear the X-Men yelling at you from beyond the veil of your little town.

"STOP IT!" You turned to your shocked kids. "I'm so sorry. The yelling was a little too much today. How about we do both, my darlings?"

Quickly the frowns dropped from their faces, and they nodded and ran to the car. "I'll be right out! Let me just tell your father where we're going!"

"Okay, Mama!" Your kids yelled from their seats and shut the door after that.

"Sweetie! Oh there you are," you said walking into the backyard where he was weeding the flowerbeds. "The kids and I are going out. We're going to the bookstore, then the arcade, and lastly the grocery store. We'll be back okay?"

He stood up from his knees and smiled. "Sounds good, Chere. I will see you soon."

He placed a short sweet kiss on your lips then you were off to satisfy the children.

When he heard the car drive down the road and across town he threw the gloves off his hands and brushed the dirt off his pants, and he started walking. He walked toward the edge of the town, the one his wife said they had no reason to leave, no matter how much he begged and pleaded to leave and visit their friends.

The more he walked the less he saw. Sparse houses with still people standing in front of them. Some smiling, some crying, and some with fearful looks in their eyes. Yet none of them moved.

His brows scrunched and he walked toward one of them. Still, they didn't move until he was close enough to hear the voice behind the smile, literally.

"Please help us." The voice kept repeating behind the everlasting smile.

Remy took a step back and started running toward the edge which started to lose the vibrant color he never noticed in the town until the absence of it was apparent. He walked toward the edge and touched the wall that separates him from the outside world. He pushed against it but he felt it strain against him.

As he did he could see some people behind the wall. Charles, the professor sitting in a wheelchair. Kurt Wagner, who upon seeing him, teleported himself inside the walls of Remy's confinement.

Tentatively Kurt started to walk up to him, "Remy? Is that you?"

The crease in Remy's brow furrowed. "Course it is furball, what's goin' on?"

"I do not know how to tell you, but you are not real. You cannot leave because you are an illusion created by our dear Y/n."

Remy's heart started to quicken. "How can that be? No, we have children together. We got married. This is our life..."

"When did you get married to her? Where was the honeymoon? Und why can't you remember?" With each question a pain worsened behind Remy's eyes.

"I-I don't... I don't understand. But I'm here right now," Remy looked down at his hands which seemed to be non-existent. He turned over his hands, but they weren't there. He started to walk back towards the center of town, and slowly they reappeared.

"I am sorry to have to break this to you, mein Freund. However, it is odd to speak to you after the eulogy at your funeral," Kurt's mouth formed an O shape, "I misspeak... I-I meant-"

"I died. This is how she is mourning me," Remy's head landed in his hands. "I'm dead, and she imagined the life we always wanted in reality."

"Es tut mir leid, mein Freund. But we have to stop her, and help free these people. You see they are trapped in her illusion against their will. Please will you help, the last person we sent in was how do you say, seen out of the establishment," He vaguely remembered the day the twins were born... created and the large hole in the wall of the living room that was closed the next day.

"I will help you. Give me until the end of the day," Remy stared at the ground and Kurt put a hand on his shoulder.

"Danke und goodbye, mein Freund," Kurt teleports out into the world beyond the town and beyond your reach.

He started walking back to the house where he spent the best days of his life with you. Well, he supposes all of the memories made by him.

~~~

A cold wave of dread washed over you as you left the grocery store and saw your husband waiting by the car.

"Daddy!" Your children yelled and ran to him. He opened his arms and gave them each a tight hug.

"Why don't you go to the playground across the street. Your mom and I need to... talk," They gave him and you a quick wave and ran to the playground equipment.

"Hey, darling, I didn't expect to see you here," You could feel your palms start to sweat, "Could you help me put the groceries in the car?"

"Y/n... what have you done?" He whispered in your ear as he pulled you close.

A breathy chuckle left your throat. "I don't know-"

"Chere, please don't lie to me. You need to set things right. These people are innocent."

Your brows furrowed and you looked into his eyes. "They're fine. They're living their lives in this new reality. I'm sure of it."

You could feel your grip loosening, and someone was walking up to you seemingly in a trance, "Please let us go. We see your nightmares when we sleep and when we are awake. Please, I have a family and they haven't moved in days."

You started to collapse to the ground, but Remy held you until you were both on the ground. You didn't notice the tears running down your face until he started wiping them away.

"You have to let me go," He said, looking into your eyes.

"Okay, but just one more night, and then I'll let you go," He seemed to consider this for a moment and looked across the street to the kids that were playing together, but alone.

"Let's go home, Chere," He helped you up off the ground and the people around you started to walk off into the distance. People you had never seen but felt in the bounds of the town. You gathered your family in the car and went home just as the sun was setting over your personal paradise.

You led the kids upstairs and to their bedroom where you helped them into their pajamas and tucked them into bed. You went to give Charles a kiss. "Mom, I'm too old for that."

You gave him a sad smile and brushed a few strands of hair from his forehead. "Okay, sweetie."

You went over to the other bed and leaned over to give Jean a kiss.

"What's happening, Mama?" She asked you with a pinch of fear in her tone.

"Charlie... Jeanie... I love you so much. No matter how far apart we are or will be I love you more than the world itself," You swept a stray tear from your face and got up.

"Wait, Mama. I think I need a kiss," Charles said quietly, and you understood that he was saying it partially for himself but mostly for your sake.

You walked over and gave him a kiss on his forehead. "Goodnight, kids. Sweet dreams."

As you approached the door you turned back to see two empty twin-sized beds. You continued to cry as you made your way to your and Remy's room. He was waiting on the bed looking out the window into the slowly disappearing town around you.

"Hey," You said, sitting down and looking at him.

"Chere, I love you, and I'm sorry we never got a true goodbye while I was alive," He pulled you into his side and you rested your head on his shoulder.

"I love you too. For our last night together, will you just hold me."

He looked at you and laid down. "Anything you want, Chere."

You laid down with him and he pulled you into his arms. You could feel his hands calmly stroke your hair and tuck you close. A shine blurred your vision and you closed your eyes allowing yourself to take in all of your soulmate. The smell of his favorite cologne, the feel of his skin under your fingertips, and his soft breathing. You felt your breathing slow and without your permission, your body fell asleep.

~~~

When you woke up in the morning you were laying on a familiar gurney in the basement of the mansion with the professor sitting in his chair next to the bed.

"Ah, you're awake. We have much to discuss."

[cemeteryspider]

Genosha Revisited

Purely Father Daughter!: Magneto! Erik Magnus Lehnsherr x Daughter! Reader

Gambit! Remy Lebeau x Mutant! Reader

Summary: A complete rewrite of episode 5 of X-Men 97' where you and Gambit visit Genosha to see the place where your past trauma took place.

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Trauma, Anxiety, Mentions of Enslavement (Genosha)

Word Count: 682

You allowed your mind to drift as you stared out the window of the jet. The vast expanse of ocean below made your stomach twist into knots. Remy noticed your frown and calmly grasped your hand in his.

"What's goin' on, Chere? Is everything okay?" He smiled sweetly, but you could feel the sweat on his palm.

You were returning to Genosha, where you and Remy had first met years ago. Back then, it was a place of enslavement and suffering, far from the mutant sanctuary it claimed to be now. Magneto insisted you needed to see its transformation—a place where mutants could thrive.

Reluctantly, after much persuasion from Gambit, you boarded the jet, now en route to Genosha.

"Oh, you know, just great, Remy. I feel like we're walking into the lion's den again." You squeezed his hand back, trying to mask your unease with sarcasm.

"I know it's difficult, but maybe the place has changed for the better. Everything's going to be okay, Chere."

The sinking feeling in your chest persisted. You knew better than to trust something that seemed too good to be true.

"We're here, dear," your father announced. You looked out to see a vast island of color. Your heart swelled at the sight of mutants with wings guiding the jet to the landing pad.

Putting your nagging thoughts aside, you exited the jet with your father and boyfriend.

Almost immediately, your best friend Kurt leaped into your arms, "Mein Freundin! I've missed you!"

After he released you, he hugged Remy. "And the thief! I've missed you as well! I'll be showing you around while the consul speaks to Magneto. Follow me and see the new and improved Genosha!"

An odd feeling churned in your stomach, but you forced yourself to stay open-minded as you stepped into the bustling world.

Mutants of all shapes and sizes surrounded you—some with wings, others with different colored skin, and some with serpentine features. It felt like home, but more like a community than a family, unlike the mansion.

Kurt led you through vibrant markets filled with fresh fruit, freshly caught fish, hand-knit goods, and other trinkets. You bought an assortment of fruits and baked goods to share with Remy, who gladly shared with you.

You arrived at an open area filled with dancing bodies and flashing lights. It wasn’t a party scene, but more a joyful reprieve from daily life. You pulled Remy into the crowd and began to dance.

"You better keep up, Remy!" you laughed, pulling him closer.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I was about to say the same thing to you, Chere!"

Kurt talked to the band, and they began playing a lively tune with a fun guitar riff.

As the music picked up, you and Remy twirled and spun, your movements synchronized and fluid. The world around you blurred into a swirl of bodies and quick feet.

You and Remy moved in perfect harmony. He pulled you close and spun you out with a flourish, your hands never leaving each other. The crowd clapped and stomped their feet with enthusiasm. The music swelled, and the world pulsed with life.

As you finished the dance, the crowd clapped for you, amazed by the moves Remy had taught you from his Louisiana roots.

Heat rose to your cheeks, but Remy quickly dipped you and gave you a small peck on the cheek. Then you were off again, moving through the streets as the music returned to its tropical beats.

Your walking slowed as Kurt stopped to talk to someone he knew.

You let your head fall onto Remy's shoulder. "That was the most fun I've had in a while."

He smirked at you. "Me too, Chere."

You looked up at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. "I'm glad we came, Remy."

He wrapped his arms around your waist. "I'm glad too. This is much different from the last time we were here."

As the sun began to set, he gently rocked you and pressed a silent kiss to your forehead.

[cemeteryspider]

Unfinished Symphony

Verosika x Hellborn! Reader

Summary: You're Blitzø's last stop on his apology tour.

Trigger Warnings: Mention's of Emotional Abuse, Alcohol Use, Mention's of Self-Hate, and Emotional Distress

Word Count: 723

When entering the house you nearly tripped over Vortex's feet as he stood near the door sipping out of a red cup. You gave him a small smile and a wave as you make your way further into the house, walls littered with graffiti about Blitzø some of which made you giggle.

Then you spotted her drinking from her flask and talking to someone you heard the name of this morning when she asked someone on the phone his address. Stolas. You never expected a Goetia to attend one of her Blitzø hatred party, yet here he was yet another notch on his belt.

You made your way through the sea of people to the drink table, mixing yourself a cocktail with the wide selection of booze that Bee, gratiously gave for the party. Vee had friends in high places you supposed. The drink softened the walls you always had up when the name Blitzø came up around you. Even if you were surrounded by people who had similar experiences with Blitzø you never felt as though you belonged.

He had hurt you, yes, but not that he saw it that way. Running into him always lead to him verbally berating you, and you taking it. Always letting him push you into old self-hating thoughts, a once healthy relationship built on mutual respect turned into an ugly dance of self-deprication and blame.

Still you kept drinking. The drink stops the memories of yelling from surfacing.

Pushing through the crowd you saw Verosika on the stage setting up mics and Vortex doing checks. You felt yourself on the stage getting behind your drum set tapping out a steady beat for your girlfriend, her bodyguard, the guitarists, and Stolas the newest addition to the party.

You could have sworn you could see the glowing eyes of your ex and well everyone here's ex. You push the thought away and allow yourself to lose yourself in the beat. Verosika's voice like a comforting blanket wrapping around you. Maybe more like a bandage that allows old wounds to heal.

As the song ended you found your way to Verosika on the stage, closing your hand around hers.

"Hey, thanks for the beat, babe," She pulled you close to her and rested her chin on the top of your head.

"Anything to hear you sing. You were amazing as always," You smile and nestle your head against her chest.

You felt and heard her giggle against you, "Stop, don't get all sappy on me."

You made your way inside and around the house introducing yourself to different couples and sad people around. Then Verosika said she needed to do something. You allowed yourself to mingle with old friends and new. Partnering with Vortex during a game of beer pong, when you felt a small tug on your shirt.

"Hey, Y/n... can we talk?" The voice that haunted your waking and sleeping time made your stomach constrict.

"Uh... yeah lets go," You followed him outside to the back porch.

"So it's been awhile, huh," He picks at his fingers and refused to look up at you.

"Look Blitzø I know you didn't want to talk small talk with me, so what's this about?"

He scoffed, "Listen, bitch you're making it really hard to do what I'm about to do... I'm sorry."

It was your turn to scoff, "For what, you don't even know what you're apologizing for"

"I'm sorry for always blaming you for every single problem we had. I'm sorry for blaming you for how things ended. Lastly, I'm sorry for every single fucked up thing I've said and done during and after our relationship. You never deserved any of that.... I'm sorry."

Your felt your eyes fill with tears and saw tears already leaking down Blitzø's cheeks.

"Okay. Thanks for the apology. Maybe we can get coffee sometime, and just talk. I don't forgive you, but maybe this is the first step in the right direction," You allowed yourself to put your hand on his and rub your thumb against the back of his hand.

With his other hand he wiped the stray tears from his face, "Yeah... that would be nice."

You could hear Verosika's heels click outside, and you stood up brushing yourself off.

"Everything okay out here?" She smiled and took your hand in yours.

You smiled and looked up at her, "Everything's just fine, Vee."

"Well then I guess I'll see you later... Blitz."

With that you left the party behind, and went back in hell, to your shared apartment. Verosika tenderly taking you in her arms and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I love you, Vee."

"Love you too."

[cemeteryspider]

A Feathered Destiny

Nightcrawler! Kurt Wagner x Winged! Reader

Summary: Your world and Kurt's faith collide when you join the X-Men.

There are religious themes in this because Nightcrawler is canonically Catholic. I used to be a practicing member of the Catholic Church but I no longer practice this religion. I hope not to offend religious and non-religious people. There is no mention of reader's faith.

Trigger Warnings: Violence, Injury, Blood, Emotional Distress, Religious and Supernatural Themes

Word Count: 1514

When Charles Xavier introduced you to his team of X-Men, shock coursed through you. One moment, you were a nobody, burdened by a painfully obvious mutation that had isolated you from human society. In an instant, you found yourself surrounded by mutants like yourself, each with their own unique abilities and histories.

Some of the X-Men were unsettled by your resemblance to the original X-Men member, Angel. However, Beast quickly dismissed any concerns of familial ties and after verifying your carbon dating matched your age, ruling out the possibility of you being a clone.

One member of the X-Men, however, greeted you without hesitation. Nightcrawler's eyes widened and his mouth fell agape at the sight of your pure white wings, immediately drawn to the divine aura you seemed to exude.

To him you were perfect in every way, a divine gift from god himself.

During your first mission you were sent to stop sentinel activity in Los Angeles. You soared past the sentinels nose-diving into their heads and soaring out the back unscathed.

You worked fast and effectively, working with the other X-Men to keep people on the ground safe. Once the sentinels were taken down and your feet touched the ground once more you could sense the despair of the people around you.

A deep emotional crowd of sadness nearly suffocated you. You scanned the crowd looking for people you could help.

One espeacially strong emotional response coming from not too far away. A little girl hovering over her mother, who was weakly trying to consol her daughter despite the blood leaking from the left side of her mouth and the stone crushing her chest.

You approached the little girl cautiously, kneeling beside her. With a gentle touch, you retrieved a small dagger from your suit's waistband and carefully snipped a lock of your hair. Placing it in the girl's hand, you whispered softly, "What do you wish for the most right now?"

A suprised look crossed the girl's face when the hair in her hand disappeared into a golden light, and the rock on her mom's chest disappeared along with the blood on her mouth.

You heard two small gasps as the mom's once concave chest returned to it's usual position.

The girl launched herself into her mom's arms, and you just smiled at the sight in front of you.

"Thank you," The mom said in your direction.

A team of medics carefully loaded the woman onto a stretcher, their movements precise and urgent. Deep down you knew their tests were going to come back with positive results. The miracle you seemed to have preformed would do the trick. Her daughter ran into the ambulance to follow.

People around you stared standing still, some with their jaw slack others with their eyes wide. You smiled as you brushed the rubble off of your suit and stood up walking past Kurt who looked baffled at the scene he just witnessed, "My God, Samson's hair."

To him, he had just witnessed a miracle of god.

~~~

Later that week you stood across from Kurt in the Danger Room. You watched as Wolverine typed into a tablet changing some of the hologram enemies around the room.

"Alright, let's see if you've got what it takes. Get ready for some action," You almost rolled your eyes. Wolverine was obviously not used to setting up training for others, but you decided that he was trying his best.

Kurt looked over to you, "Let's show them what we've got, ja?"

A smiled crossed your face, "I'm ready when you are."

With a quick glance over to Logan he smirked, "Begin."

The holographic enemies shot into action around the two of you. You allowed your wings to spread and soon you lifted off the ground.

"I'll take the high ground," You shouted down to Kurt.

He disappeared and reappeared behind an enemy in a cloud of smoke and brimstone. He delivered a swift kick to the back of its skull, "Und I will keep them occupied down here."

You knocked a bunch of holograms down with your spread wings, and Kurt teleported rapidly, dodging attacks and taking down enemies with an acrobatic prowess.

You weaved through the various obstecales put in your flying path. You took down an archer that was silently aiming for Kurt in a tree.

"They cannot hit what they cannot see," He shouted up to you, and you smiled. He couldn't help but smirk when he saw your white teeth.

The last few enemies standing Kurt stood straight with a serene look settling across his features as he fought. His lips tumbling out whispers, "Thank you, Lord, for this strength."

You land next to Kurt, with the last enemy defeated. The land evened out with a few taps on Wolverine's tablet.

"Great job, Kurt!" You smiled at him again.

He smiled back, "Danke, We make a good team, don't we?"

When his eyes met yours he took your hand in his, "You are a gift from God, you know."

Your eyes left his to look at the ground, "I really appreaciate that Kurt, but I'm not an angel. I am a mutant, just like you."

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and you looked back up at him, "Mutant... Angel. It does not matter to me. You are still a blessing."

You tight shoulders loosened, "Thank you Kurt, that means a lot."

"Alright, enough chit-chat you two. Let's see if you can handle the next level," Logan said rapidly typing into the tablet once more.

~~~

In the evening, you found solace on a weathered bench in the campus garden. The night sky twinkled with distant stars, casting a gentle glow over the blooming peonies. The faint scent of sulfur wafted through the air, drawing your attention to Nightcrawler, who appeared beside you

"Mind if I join you?"

A small smile crosses your face, "Not at all"

He looked at your face as the moon cast a gentle glow on your face.

"It is beautiful out here. Peaceful," His eyes quickly darting to the sky, "Do you ever wonder if there is more to this world than the things we see?"

A subtle crease in your brow formed, "I do. Sometimes I think about where we come from and where we're going."

Kurts arms rested on his theighs, "My faith has always guided me. Even in the darkest of times. I believe there is a high purpose, and that it has guided you to me."

"I admire your faith in a higher power, Kurt."

He turns his body to look at you, "It has not been easy. I have faced hatred and fear for how I look. Through it all, I have always held onto my faith."

You put your hand over Kurt's, "You've been through so much Kurt, I understand why you hold onto your faith so tightly."

"And you? What keeps you going, Angel?" His eyes lit up.

You took a deep breath, "There's something I need to tell you. It's about why I came here."

A gentle concern crosses his face and he leans it a little bit close to you, "Whatever it is, you can trust me."

You scrunch your eyes closed, "I came here because I felt lost. Once my powers manifested my parents kicked me out of the house. My old friends wanted nothing to do with me. When the Professor found me I was completley alone. No one to help me, everyone shutting me out. When I met you I felt like I finally found a place to belong, with the X-Men."

He smiled warmly at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, "You are always welcome here. The X-Men is a family, and we support each other."

Your eyes shone with unshed tears, "Thank you Kurt. That means more than you know."

Your head rested on his shoulder and you continued to watch the night sky. His head came to rest atop yours as well.

~~~

You stood beside Kurt as Rogue and Gambit animatedly recounted their globe-trotting escapades. Kurt subtly wrapped his arm around your waist, eliciting a chuckle from Rogue.

"Took you two long enough," she teased with a grin.

A blush crossed your face with a shy smile, and Kurt could only grin at his sister's comment.

Soon Scott and Jean walked over congratulating the two of you on getting together, saying it felt like it would never happen despite Kurt following you around like a lost puppy.

"They're just jealous of the two of ya, sugah," Rogue whispered to you when she gave you a hug. You couldn't help but smile looking at the team surrounding you.

You finally found the warmth of friendship among these extraordinary individuals. Perhaps, in time, they would become your family.

From his wheelchair in the hallway, Professor Xavier watched his team with a smile that held both pride and hope. As laughter and camaraderie filled the air, he felt a deep-seated conviction that every obstacle overcome brought them closer to realizing his dream of unity and acceptance.

[cemeteryspider]

In the Wake of Destruction: Part 1

Gambit! Remy LeBeau x Mutant! Reader

Summary: Remy leaves on his trip to Genosha, an emotional retelling of season 1 episode 5 "Remember It" from across the globe.

Trigger Warnings: Character Death, Violence, Emotional Distress, and Injury

Word Count: 1310

You let yourself relax on the couch next to Morph and let your head dangle off the back. You felt him shift next to you so you peeked open your eyes to see him, transformed into Remy making googly eyes at you and puckering his lips.

You groaned and scrunched your eyes closed once again, "Don't be a dick, Morph."

"Relax sweetie, he's gonna be just fine, he's in the one place mutants are protected in the world," He put his hand on your knee, and you huffed looking at him again.

"I know, Morph. That doesn't mean I don't worry about him," You set your head in your hands and heard loud footsteps in the hallway.

Wolverine came in, thunking Morph upside his head, "Don't make the lady more upset than she already is." 

Morph rubbed his head, shifting back to his normal form, "Alright, alright, just trying to lighten the mood."

Logan gave a small grunt, settling onto the couch next to you. "Ain't nothing light about waiting for news like this. Feels like the calm before the storm."

"Calm down, Wolvie, we were just talking about the good ol' thief," With that your eyes shifted back to the television screen where you watched live news coverage from Genosha.

When Remy told you he was leaving to go to Genosha with Rogue and Magneto you were immediately hesitant. Not because you did trust him around the auburn-headed bombshell on the jet, no you knew that ship had sailed a long time ago.

No, it was an odd feeling in your stomach. Something in you begging him not to leave, but as you racked your head thinking for a reason you couldn't find any. He told you that he needed to see that the place was really what it said it was. To ensure that it truly was a sanctuary for mutants.

You had Beast search the jet for any and all issues, you asked Magneto if there were any rising tensions in Genosha to which he replied 'Nothing out of the ordinary', you even had Scott ask Madelyne Pryor, which you did not condone them continuing to speak, yet still nothing came up.

Not a single reason you should be worried about him traveling, yet as the day approached, you still asked him to stay anyway.

"Maybe you should stay home, I'm not feeling too great, Remy," You latched onto his arm as you walked him to the landing pad.

He looked at you with a smirk, " I promise I'll be back before you know it, Chere."

Setting his bag down, he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you in the air momentarily. When your feet hit the ground once more his lips enveloped yours in a passionate kiss.

"We do not have time for your romantic hijinks at the moment, let us go,” Magneto grunted as he stepped into the jet.

Remy glanced at you one last time, his eyes softening, "I need to see it for myself, Chere. If Genosha is really the sanctuary they claim, it could change everything for mutants. For us. I want to build a future where we don’t have to hide, where we can be safe." He kissed you softly, his touch lingering, as if trying to imprint the memory of you before he left. 

“I love you, Chere” With one last kiss he turned to get on the plane giving you a wave. The plane lifted off the ground within a couple of minutes he was gone. 

“I love you too, Remy,” You whispered into the air.

Several hours later, you were still in the same position, having barely moved except to glance occasionally at the clock. The news had been monotonously reporting about peaceful events in Genosha, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Suddenly and without warning the reporter on the ground stumbled as the building crumbled behind her. Wolverine and Morph jumped up from the couch but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scene playing out. 

"Scott! Jean! Everyone get in here!" Someone shouted for the rest of the team, but you couldn't distinguish who. It could have even been you. 

You could only focus on the destruction on screen. The person behind the camera is running towards what might be safety. The once bright and bustling scene of Genosha was now bathed in reds and purples.

You slid from your place on the couch to the floor, hands grasping the sides of your face as you watched your friends, no, family fight the monstrous sentinels.

Your heart slid to a stop, watching one of those beasts destroy Magneto and a gaggle of children with one well-timed strike.

Whatever happened Magneto didn't get up after that attack.

Rogue charged the sentinel, with Remy not far behind on the motorcycle he procured. You knew it was him from the beautiful white suit you helped him pick out for the event and the motorcycle that he expertly wove through the crumbling streets of Genosha. 

He then used the bike to hurl Rogue off her warpath to the side.

"No, Remy, please don't do this," Your words were barely audible as Jubilee sat next to you on the floor, her hand resting on your knee. Every worst-possible-case scenario raced through your head a mile a minute.

It didn't stop Remy from running at the sentinel with all his might. Running and jumping across the broken concrete to get closer. Just close enough to...

Then in a split second, a needle-like appendage was on his side. Even though the cameraman was zoomed in as close as possible, you still couldn't see his face clearly.

Tears blurred your vision, but you quickly blinked them away, forcing yourself to bear witness to this massacre.

The appendage brought Remy close to one of its three faces, but just when you figured the fight was over it started to glow. A pinkish-purple glowed from the seams of the creature. Then in a beautiful pink nuclear-like explosion the camera cut.

Forcing the room to watch the fire covering a section of Genosha, instead of the fates of their friends.

You didn't even hear Trish Tilby's words as you curled up into a ball and continued to block the world out with your tears.

~~~

After the night was over you saw the jet landing just outside, and in a moment of weakness your legs carried you there. An ounce of hope telling you that Remy was sitting in one of the seats waiting to come home to you like he had promised.

However, when Kurt stepped out alone, you could feel the hope draining from your body.

"Meine Freundin," He said as he teleported off the jet and next to you. Still, a part of you waited for the door to open and the stairs to descend. You felt his arm sit around your shoulders.

You looked over at him, misty-eyed already, "Where is he, Kurt?"

He cast his eyes downward, "Gambit is... on the plane. Sadly he cannot come out to greet you."

"He's gone?" Your tears mixed with the light rain.

With a small sigh, he stepped in front of you, "Es tut mir so leid, freund."

“You’re wrong.”

“I am not. I am so sorry for that.”

"But he promised," You fell to your knees and allowed Kurt to kneel in front of you, taking you into his arms as sobs racked your body, "He promised."

The rain didn't stop that day. As you stayed there, embraced by Kurt's comforting presence, memories flicked through your mind. Then a thought, the life with Remy you never had, a house, and kids. You cried harder into Kurt’s shoulder; you wanted it so badly. 

The rain mingled with your tears, but within you, a spark of determination began to flicker.

[cemeteryspider]

Orange Juice

Madelyne Pryor x Mutant! Reader

Summary: During a party celebrating Xavier's return, you reconnect with Madelyne Pryor, rekindling unresolved feelings and a hopeful new beginning

Trigger Warnings: Romanic Conflict and Identity Issues (Madelyne)

Word Count: 1072

When Charles funded a party that you and Jubilee were in charge of, it called many mutants to the manor. Today, this included the folks from Genosha to celebrate Xavier's return to Earth and the X-Men and Magneto's role as leader of Genosha.

Naturally, you planned the drink menu, the finger food, and when the kids would go to bed. During the day, the party was more of a casual hangout, with Wolverine on the grill and Morph constantly poking fun at him and grabbing beers for the two of them.

The kids sat or played on the lawn. You saw some of the younger ones playing tag or hide-and-seek while the older kids gossiped or talked about classes. Charles and Jean sometimes went over to check on them, but things were going strangely well.

As night fell and Charles saw the kids to bed, the real party began. Rogue stood behind the bar, mixing drinks and grabbing beers from the cooler. The basketball court transformed into a dance floor, and some vigilantes arrived, like Emma, who didn't want to be seen around children.

Most people changed into their club attire and were ready for the actual celebration to begin. Jubilee just made the cut, probably because she was a bona fide X-Man and eighteen was old enough for everyone's opinion that mattered.

When the introductions and friendly hellos were finished, you began to look around. You hadn't drunk a single drop of alcohol, and when your abilities and alcohol mix, let's just say it's probably for the best.

In an instant, Jubilee was standing next to you, wearing a sparkly dress with kitten heels and a huge smile. "She's in the kitchen."

You were pretty sure you knew who she was talking about, but you asked anyway, "Who, Jubs?"

"Only the person you've been waiting to call you every day for the past few months! Madelyne!"

This wouldn't be the first time Madelyne Pryor came up in a conversation with Jubilee, and it surely wouldn't be the last if she had anything to say about it.

You had made the sort of mistake of telling the teenage girl that a day before Madelyne left to go God knows where. She kissed you and thanked you for being there for her no matter what. She said she liked you as more than a friend and had for a long time, but she was with Scott. Then, once she found out she was a clone, she realized she was in love with you.

Shocked was the understatement of the century. You needed time to think, and you left her there on the steps. In a short letter to you, she said she was leaving, that she had to find herself, and that the next time you saw her, to call her Madelyne.

Now there she was, in the kitchen. Was she waiting for you?

"You have to go talk to her!" Jubilee practically shouted at you.

You started to smooth your clothes, trying to get the non-existent wrinkles out. "What if she doesn't want to see me?"

"Girl, if she doesn't want to see you looking like this, being a clone is the least of her worries." She laughed at her joke and started pulling you to the door.

"Wait, Jubilee, I'm serious. What if I messed it all up?" With that, she turned to look at you.

"Hon, if you don't go in there, you'll never know." With a small brush of confidence, you opened the door and walked in.

Her hair was up in a bun with sweeping pieces in the front. A black choker adorned her neck, accentuating the low neckline of her magenta dress that hugged her waist.

"Umm, hey," you said. As soon as you opened your mouth, the more you felt you should have stayed outside.

She turned quickly to look at you and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Hey, it's been a while, huh?"

"What are you doing here? The party's outside." Still just stumbling over your words like you did a few months ago.

"Oh, you know, just enjoying the party from afar." You started to walk up to her, looking out the window to the small party with Scott and Jean thanking people for coming, the Professor and Magneto catching up for the first time in a long time, you presumed, and many people you've known for a while mingling and talking about life.

"It feels like I've been ready for you to come home for so long. So where'd you go?" There was no need for small talk between the two of you, not after what happened.

"Mhm, my heart has changed and my soul has changed, thanks to Genosha. I've seen what life for mutants can be like, what my life can be like." She turned to meet your eyes, and little crinkles appeared in the corners of her eyes.

"How did you know I'd be here tonight?" you asked, taking a step closer.

She smiled, a small, knowing smile that made your heart skip a beat. "I didn't. I hoped. I've missed you, more than I can say."

You felt a rush of emotions, memories of that kiss, her letter, and all the time spent waiting and wondering. "Madelyne, I—"

She gently pressed her finger against your lips, and you looked into her eyes. “I know we have a lot to talk about, but right now, all I want to do is be here with you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds perfectly fine to me.”

Looking outside, you saw Jubilee and Roberto holding hands and talking to Logan, who seemed uninterested in the conversation besides glaring at Roberto. Jubilee turned back to the window, which you could only assume she had been doing the whole time you’ve been in here with Madelyne, and gave you a thumbs up.

“How about we get to that party? Seems like someone’s missing you.” Madelyne chuckled and made her way outside. When the door closed gently behind you, you made the bold decision of taking Madelyne’s hand in yours.

“I like you too, Madelyne.” A blush fanned across your face that matched her own. She squeezed your hand in hers and pressed her lips to yours.

“Good. Now let's party.” She led you to Jubilee, where the rest of the X-Men gathered around, and began the next chapter of your relationship.

[cemeteryspider]

Haunting Memories

The same universe as: The Shadow's Redemption, you don't need to read it before this fic, but it might be helpful.

Platonic! X-Men x New X-Men! Reader

Nightcrawler! Kurt Wagner x Necromancer! Reader

Summary: Sinister still plagues your conscious and unconscious moments, Jean and Kurt help you regain control over your dreams.

Trigger Warnings: Nightmares, Traumatic Memories, Emotional and Psychological Abuse, Violence, Death (Sort of), Supernatural Elements, and Telepathic Invasion

Word Count: 1556

Your dreams never seemed to be pleasant. Your dreams were a haunting mix of fragmented memories from before Mister Sinister and harrowing nightmares of the years under his control. Sometimes Logan and Storm would stand outside your door while Kurt held you when you cried. When Kurt wasn't availableLogan was a steadfast presence, mentally listing the many ways he'd kill Sinister while Storm held you, offering her shoulder as a safe haven for your tears.

You knew Jean and the Professor knew about your dreams, but they never pressured you into asking for help. You were healing on your own time, and surely you would come to them if you felt you needed to. Except that didn't happen.

~~~

'No need to worry, you're home now,' Sinister stroked your hair as you lay frozen on the mattress on the floor of your old room.

"No," You mumbled, trying desperately to regain control of your limbs, but the harder you tried the more trapped you felt.

'Oh darling, no need to get upset, you know I forgive you for running away, after all, you led me right to my enemies,' He laughed at the look of utter confusion on your face, 'Don't tell me you've forgotten already, here let me show you.'

Sinister's cold hands gripped your face, forcing you to look at the side of the room where the lifeless bodies of your friends lay, 'See no need to worry about anyone trying to take you away.'

You were looking at the lifeless corpses of your friends, of your boyfriend, of people you thought of as siblings. You tried to scream but nothing came out.

Just when things looked to be at their lowest their spirits appeared in front of you.

Wolverine looked at you with such disdain, 'I trusted you, Bub.'

Storm looked down at you with such apathy, 'To think I thought of you as a sister.'

One by one they appeared to berate you. Cyclops and his disgust with you that stayed despite the lack of mind control turned downright cruel, Gambit and his usually friendly demeanor turned angry, and Jubilee, your best friend, looked at you with a hostility you had never seen on her face before today. Still more appeared in front of you Morph, Jean, Magneto, Dazzler, Bishop, Cable,... it just kept going.

Lastly, Kurt appeared in front of you, 'I wish we had never met, Liebling'

Sinister's laugh punctuated your gasping shallow breaths and you squeezed your eyes closed. Still, the laughter continued and the angry comments assaulted your ears.

'See, Professor, we shouldn't have let them in'

'Can't do anything right'

'They're just as bad as he is'

'Useless'

'Cowardly'

You just sobbed through the comments and the laughter hoping that they would end soon.

~~~

'My X-Men, evacuate the children, it is not safe in the mansion at this moment. Jean, Wolverine, Jubilee, I need you here with me,' Your mind was swirling with anguish and thoughts Charles didn't want anyone to see unless completely necessary, and right now it seemed it was.

Your eyes, black voids of despair, unleashed dark tendrils from your mouth and legs, while vengeful spirits gnashed and thrashed, preventing anyone from approaching you and Kurt. He was holding you in his arms, and trying to get you out of whatever trance you were stuck in.

"Professor, what's going on?" Jubilee asked.

"There is no time to explain, Jubilee makes sure nobody comes into this hallway, it is unsafe for the children. Wolverine you are coming with me to Cerebro, you will try to get through to them, and if need be protect me from spirits should they come. Nightcrawler, you get Jean close, and again try to get through to them. Jean, you need to try to get through to them. I will try to break down some of the barriers Sinister put in their mind, and you will put up the scaffolding to keep him out of good."

They all knew their assignments well and soon enough the plan was in motion. Quickly Kurt zapped from his position behind you to grab Jean and get her inside your circle of undead souls.

Jean gently placed her fingertips on your temples, her touch warm and reassuring as she delicately breached the barriers of your mind, something she had been waiting to explore until you gave her permission. However, these were extenuating circumstances.

~~~

Your eyes were shut tight not allowing any of the red-tinged light into your retinas.

'Y/n it's me, Jean. Can you hear me,' You tried desperately to ignore the sound of her voice, you had been fooled by Sinister many times before and you would not be tricked so easily this time around, 'Please, it's me, I'm here to help you.'

They got better with every nightmare you faced. More realistic, more like you remember them. You shut your eyes tighter and tried to keep out these manifestations of your former friends.

‘Kurt’s here,’ Jean’s voice was soft, almost tender. ‘He wants to talk to you, to hold you in his arms.’ That was new, Sinister shouldn't know about Kurt, let alone your relationship with him.

You felt something touch your arm, but it wasn't Sinister. It was more gentle, more caring than he could ever be, 'Liebe, it is me. Truly me. I know you've been fighting these battles alone, but I am here trust me. Let Jean in.'

You opened your eyes, and Sinister was frozen. The person in front of you was Kurt. All of the spirits of your friends had vanished, and all that was left were Jean and Kurt.

You threw yourself into his arms, only realizing after you did it you were able to move again.

"Kurt, please help me, I'm scared and I don't know what to do," The word scared came out of your mouth, but the main feeling you had was rage.

'Trust in Jean, and then you can help yourself,' He held your hand in his as Jean walked over to the two of you.

'You have let me in. I can put supports in place in your mind, and help you block him out. You wouldn't have these nightmares where he is in control of them. Just open your mind,' You leaned further into Kurt and he looked into your eyes.

'She will not hurt you like he has,' You looked into his eyes and saw they were wide with sincerity.

For a brief moment you could see Sinister move you out of the corner of your eye, 'You will never be rid of me, I am in everything you do. Every movement, every thought, and every emotion you have ever and will ever have has me in it.'

You took Jean's hands in yours and closed your eyes. Your shoulders tightened and your toes curled waiting for the cold entrance of a telepath in your mind, but it never came. Instead, Jean's mind felt like a warm summer day.

You felt her drift through different memories you thought you had lost to Mister Sinister. You might not be able to access them now, but just knowing they were there gave you a level of comfort you were scared you would never get back.

She started making walls that shielded your mind. Helped keep unwanted intruders out, and allows your mind to heal. The tension seeped out of your body as Sinister slowly disappeared from the scene.

'You know I will always come back... I made yo....,'

"No, I made me," You grasped his head in your hands, "You just stood in my way."

With a surge of righteous anger, you squeezed until his head disintegrated into a cloud of silver and red dust, a symbolic release of your pent-up rage.

With that, he was gone. Just like that.

'Come back to me, Liebe, wake up'

~~~

You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and allowed them to adjust to the darkness you found yourself in.

"Kurt?"

Something poofed beside you and you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, "You did so well, Liebe, I am so proud of you."

His arms squeezed around you and you could barely manage to speak, "Why's it dark."

"Oh, heh, you may have knocked the power out with how many spirits you were summoning. Also, your darkness was swallowing the light whole."

A warmth spread across your cheeks, "Sorry, bout that."

Kurt cupped your face gently, his eyes full of warmth and relief. 'There’s nothing to be sorry for, Liebe. You’re safe now, and that’s all that matters.'

It took a few minutes for Jubilee, Wolverine, and the professor to enter the room, armed with flashlights and tentative movements. Once seeing you without any spirits to rip apart anyone who came close to you, Jubilee ran towards you. Kurt poofed out of the way of the hug and Jubilee put her arms around your neck.

"Jeez, you scared us! I was so worried about you!," She took this moment to pull away a little and smack you on the shoulder.

"Ow," You said, rubbing the spot on your arm that she barely hit.

"Don't scare us like that again!"

You looked to Jean who was just now getting over to you, "I don't think anything like that will happen anytime soon."

[cemeteryspider]

Rooted in Love

Gambit! Remy LeBeau x Poison Ivy! Reader

Summary: During the attack on Genosha you took the hit that would have killed Remy, luckily all he had to do was put his trust in Kurt to keep you safe.

Trigger Warnings: Violence, Near Death Experience, Emotional Distress

Word Count: 1127

I allowed myself a breath. My plants surrounded me in my small greenhouse at the X-Mansion. The feeling of vines, stems, roots and lush flowers against my face and arms kept me grounded.

'Just keep breathing'

The pollen tickled the inside of my nose and I breathed it in like my teammates would breathe air.

'Her heart's beating faster, that is a good thing right?'

Your team. Where were you? Where were they?

~~~

Meanwhile, a mind away Remy looked down at your almost lifeless body. Madelyne Pryor projecting positive thoughts into your head to help draw your focus away from the painful injuries inflicted on your body by the sentinels. Magneto was badly injured and Rogue was looking worse for wear.

Neither were in any condition to fly, but still, they focused and aimed to get you to the mainland of Africa. Still, the burn marks on Magneto and Rogue's head wounds were not making good progress in their abilities.

Gambit was losing hope that he would get to see you again. To hear your pretty laughter, see your dazzling eyes, and feel your warm touch.

That's when Kurt appeared next to you, and looked at him. His eyebrows creased, Kurt would not be able to make it to the mainland. He would tire until he sent the two of you into the ocean, but there was something in his eyes.

He was physically hurt, "Trust me, mein Freund", but Kurt's determination was palpable.

"Gambit trusts you", If he said no you would die, if he said yes there was a chance you wouldn't. It wasn't a hard decision.

"Come back to me, cher," He placed a quick kiss on your forehead.

Kurt carried you in his arms and started running. He gained momentum, and he was gone. Quickly, the two of you became a dot in his field of vision, all he could do was pray.

~~~

Salty air entered my nostrils but I could've sworn I was just home, in my greenhouse. I peeled my eyelids open suddenly aware of my location. I was in Nightcrawler's arms crossing the ocean. Kurt looked worse for wear, but as the sleep leaves my eyes I understand that I must look worse.

Stabbing pain started entering my mind as what I could only assume was a telepath's attempt to block the pain wear off. I sucked air in through my teeth sharply, and Kurt looked down at me briefly.

The dark circles and half-lidded eyes gave away the utter exhaustion that must be in his bones. I forced my head to the side to see the sandy coastline of Africa. The trees, flowers, and grass seemed to reach out to you, and again your eyes closed.

~~~

The two of you were so close. Kurt used the last of his strength, but this last push didn't quite make it. You both fell through the air into the cold ocean. The two of you floated just below the surface, and Kurt tried to move his limbs but they just wouldn't seem to move, limbs like lead.

He closed his eyes, understanding that this could be the end. He let two of his friends down, he would let his sister down.

His mind stewed for a moment until he felt a light touch. Algae brushed him up to the surface and the seaweed below him pulled him by his arms to the shore.

When he was close enough he started to army crawl further onto the shore. The local flora pulls your body across the sandy beach, leaves wrapping around your whole body, and soft pink flowers cushioning your head.

When he stopped feeling the waves lap at his feet, he allowed the side of his face to drop into the sand. Exhaustion finally overcame his ability to stay awake.

~~~

When Gambit and Rogue were finally able to get the jet off the ground and to the shore there was a stillness in him. Gambit was never still, and the lack of movement or incessant talking made Rouge twitch with nerves.

Before the plane was even on the ground, Gambit looked about ready to jump out and begin his search. His eyes scan the sandy surface trying to find any sign of you or his fuzzy friend.

"We'll find them, Sugar" Rogue put a gloved hand on his shoulder, and a year ago he would have melted into the touch. Now it just made him want your comfort even more.

"There!," Rogue was pointing to a blue blob on the shore which could only be one person, "Kurt!"

She began to quickly fly over to him, and Gambit was forced to run which was considerably slower than her flight.

"Kurt? Are you okay? Oh my gosh sugar, I can feel your temperature through my gloves," Her hands cupped his face, and he slowly started to come back to the present.

"Rogue? Where's Y/n?," He tried to push himself off the ground but his sister quickly brought him into her arms.

"Don't worry about that right now sugar, we'll find them, I'm gonna get you to the jet first so you can cool down"

With a weak nod, Rogue picked him up in her arms and gently flew them over to the jet.

Gambit scanned the surroundings anxiously. "Where are you, cher? Come on, give Gambit a sign, s'il vous plaît" Almost like magic a trail of pretty pink flowers appeared in front of him, "Well, I'll be damned,” he murmured under his breath.

He followed the trail a little ways into the trees where it was considerably cooler and definitely more green. It wasn't long before the flowers stopped before a giant blooming pink flower. Carefully, he pulled one petal down to take a look inside, and low and behold there you were.

Glistening with morning dew, and the cuts and bruises were nearly gone. The rest of the petals peeled back, allowing him to hold you close in his arms, "God, cher, I thought I lost you."

He placed his face in the crook of your neck allowing himself to just hold you and feel you when he felt your hand gently caress his face.

"Hey, baby," You whispered in a hushed voice, "I'm okay, I promise."

In every retelling of this story, Gambit would never say he cried, but you know he did. Telling the story to the kids at the academy and eventually your own kids, you would mime exaggerated sobs behind the man telling the story. 

And in every single battle you ever fought together, he made sure that you were always by his side. Though he made you promise you wouldn't sacrifice yourself for him again, you knew you would do it again in a heartbeat.