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bamfaholic · 3 months ago

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From Eden to Sit at Your Door

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Kurt x Reader | 2.8k words

Summary: Kurt visits home, Munich, and decides to sit across from you. With your limited vision, it takes time for you to catch on to who this man really is. Not that you're given much time at all before your life is in danger.

Summary:

You take another sip, nearly emptying your cup. “I’m sure you’re a wildcard yourself.” You offer him your name, finishing your tea. “What brings you back to Munich?”

He begins to raise his hand, perhaps offering a handshake, before quickly pulling away. He clears his throat, “Kurt Wagner, and homesickness, really. It has been years since I’ve been home.”

You offer him a sweet smile. “Welcome home, Kurt.”

Alternate summary: Kurt is on a mission, accidentally causes hijinks, and catches feelings for the reader. Even more hijinks ensue.

A/N: this originally was going to be a bullet hc of a blind!reader x Kurt and now it's a multi-part fic lol. The reader will probably turn into an oc but the cringe cop has me in cuffs

This fic has been posted to my AO3 as well! Support me and find my other works there!

On an Autmn morning, you lounged at your local café, just mere blocks from your flat. The wind nipped at the tips of your ears, rustling stray hairs free. You remained warm, though, with your wool coat and cup of peppermint tea in your palms. The harsh difference of the chilling wind and familiar warmth was a part of this routine you cherished. Slowly raising the cup to your lips, a sip warmed you from the inside out.

The workers knew you, knew your name, your story. Practically blind from birth, you couldn’t recall a time when you didn’t have a thick dark vignette frame your vision. Your eyes were often compared to translucent glass marbles, commonly in distaste. Every now and then you were even accused of being a mutant. You always replied with a scoff, wondering if simple biology had been thrown out the window ever since the Mutant Panic in the 70’s.

Though, it piqued your interest in university. You began to dig to see if mutants were similar, or even no different, than those disabled. Unfortunately, the hoops to jump through to acquire a degree with accommodations surmounted and you had to drop out. Your classmate and friend, however, still often visited to read to you scientific papers, and assisted you in writing a thesis in their free time. For now, you resorted to being an author, as you needed to express your ideas with the world.

Which is why you people watched. Each morning you had your cup of tea and watched the quick blurs and bursts of color, sometimes squinting to really focus on a detail. You listened to their words, their stories. It was all ample ammo for your works. You had fallen so lost in concentration, you failed to notice the man sit down at your table. You took a few more sips, savoring the flavors melting over your tongue. There was a flick of a distinct blue, such an unnatural color, that caught your eye.

“Ah, excuse me.” His German was natural, native, and yet there were inklings of an American influence. “I hope you don’t mind me sitting here.”

You turned your body to face him, setting your cup down on the coaster. “No, not at all.” You softly smiled. “It’s not often I have company.”

While odd in nature to encroach a stranger’s space, it didn’t bother you. You figured all the other seats were taken; it was a busy morning after all. If he was not to disturb your peace, then you would pay it no mind.

You scanned him up and down. From what you could tell, he was wearing a coat with a hood, and something a deep rich blue beneath. Lots of blue. He must really enjoy the color. Gears began to turn in your head, perhaps he could be a fountain of inspiration.

“Your eyes,” He began softly, appearing to nibble on a pastry, “I don’t think I’ve seen a color like that before.” His voice was bursting with excitement and curiosity.

You sigh, biting the inside of your cheek. Here we go... You were prepared to recite the speech you’ve given your entire life but decide to keep it short and sweet. “It’s glaucoma, my eyes shouldn’t look like this.”

“Ah, I see.” Another bite. “I apologize, I have never heard of such a condition before.”

You glance down, tracing the lip of your teacup with your fingertip. “Are you American? I hear it in your voice, but your German is perfect.” You decide to change the subject.

He chuckles, “Have I really been gone that long?” He softly mumbles to himself. “No, no I am not. I’m native to here, Munich, but I have been living in the states for some time. New York.”

“New York?” You raise a brow. “That must be so exciting.” A smile pulls at your lips. “I’ve always wanted to see the city, is it as nice as they say?”

Another chuckle, heartier and from his chest this time. “It is far too glamorized. Very dirty, stinky.” He waves a hand. “But the people there… They are truly one of a kind.”

You take another sip, nearly emptying your cup. “I’m sure you’re a wildcard yourself.” You offer him your name, finishing your tea. “What brings you back to Munich?”

He begins to raise his hand, perhaps offering a handshake, before quickly pulling away. He clears his throat, “Kurt Wagner, and homesickness, really. It has been years since I’ve been home.”

You offer him a sweet smile. “Welcome home, Kurt.”

You hear his heart beat a little harder, faster. “Ah, thank you!” His cheeriness returns, and you surmise this is this natural state of being.

Now this man really has your attention. You curse yourself for not bringing your notebook. You just simply must engage him in more conversation. “I don’t mean to pry, but I’d love to hear about your time in America, where you plan to go and do while you’re here, back home. I hope it’s not too invasive.”

His tone tells on himself, making it clear he’s excited for someone to be interested in him. “Ah, well, in America I have found family.”

There’s a quick arch of blue that blurs behind his head. You blink. Did you just hallucinate?

“They truly are a gift from God.” He shakes his head. “You asked about my time in America, no? Not my family. Ahem.” He clears his throat and straightens himself in his seat. “I was rescued, in truth, I did not have the best life here in Munich. I used to be in the circus.” A smile slips across his lips as he reminisces. “They called me ‘The Great Nightcrawler.’” He spreads his hands out and open in front of him for added effect. “I was a trapeze artist, a great one.”

You hang onto every word, but bust out a giggle, “I assumed as much, with ‘Great’ being included in ‘The Great Nightcrawler’ and all.”

Kurt stumbles over himself, “Ah, yes- I suppose you are right.” He laughs in turn. “But I flew through the air with ease, to deafening applause.”

“Did you enjoy it? It sounds like you were beloved.” You muse.

“Aye, I did.” A beat passes, and his tone suddenly shifts somber. “Doing a performance, anyway. Any other time… It was not so great, the living conditions.”

Your lips form a tight frown. You won’t push himself to share what could be hurtful. The man links his hands together in front of him on the table. “A cage,” He begins. “I was kept in a cage, like an animal. Fed scraps, if anything. Force-fed beer after shows.” A broken, awkward laugh escapes his chest, “I would suddenly be a drunkard, not even knowing where in God’s Earth I was, then thrown into that harsh cold steel.”

You knit your eyebrows together, chewing the inside of your cheek more. A nervous, unhealthy habit you developed when the gears began to turn in your head. “How?” You squeak out. “How is that possible? How could they do that, isn’t it illegal?”

There’s a great, long pause. The shuffle of the pedestrians that wade by fill your ears. “I am a man of God, friend. I entrust in Him my life, my future. If He wished for me to… Endure that trial, then who am I to question Him.”

His answer left a sour taste in your mouth. He was dodging the issue at hand, you both knew that. You take a sharp inhale through your teeth, fidgeting with the hem of your one sleeve. It wasn’t uncommon to find someone faithful, and you had no gripes against Kurt for being so devout, but you just couldn't accept it being used as an excuse for flat-out abuse.

You open your mouth to press him without much thought, but luckily something else ensnares your attention. About twenty feet down the sidewalk, across the street, you hear the chatter of two policemen.

“There he is.” The one on the left gruffs.

“I see ‘im.” The other spits, “Bloody mutant.”

A mutant? Your heart leaps. Despite your infatuation with them, hungry to know more, you nearly never got to interact with one. You whip your head around, hoping that maybe despite your impaired vision, you could spot them in the crowd. Alas, the only strange figure is… The very man seated across from you.

Your heart now pounds in your ears, adrenaline searing through your veins. “Kurt,” You lower your voice, reaching out to grab his hand. “Please, just, trust me.”

“What?” He laughs, “Is there a joke coming? What is with the sudden seriousness, friend?” But as he sees your expression, his body tenses.

“Just walk with me. Do not look behind us.”

You rise from your seat, pushing it in beneath the table, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Still gripping his hand firmly, you begin to drag him down the street, blending in with the foot traffic.

“He’s starting to get away!” Your ears burn, hearing the police notice your failure to slip away.

It is only now your heart drops as you realize you have no idea what you are doing. Your guess about Kurt being the mutant is confirmed by the police’s reaction, but you didn’t think this far ahead. Where were you even going? What was the end goal? Walk to the end of the earth, hoping the police never catch up?

“Friend-“ Kurt begins, “What is the matter? What is going on?” His words slam into each other a tad, his breath hitching and increasing. He whips his head around, trying to see whatever had spooked you.

“The police,” You begin in a hiss, “They seem to be after you. I heard it.”

“Heard it?” He’s stunned. “Heard it where?”

You quickly yank him into a tight alleyway, a mere inch separates your chests as you face him. “Shh, watch. Across the street, they’re coming towards us. I’m sure they saw us dip in here.” You’re out of breath as your heart pounds against your ribcage. “I heard them talk about a mutant.”

It’s only now, being so up close and personal, do you truly see Kurt. It’s not that he likes the color blue, he is blue. His eyes are a dazzling gold. Two tiny points threaten to peek out from his lips, little fangs. Your eyes drift down, seeing a tail that ends in a pointed spade. You surmise that must have been the blur of blue from before.

“Y-You’re the mutant.” Your voice trembles, the adrenaline putting strain on your body. The realization of the pleasant fellow you spent your morning with being so… Different. You kick yourself for thinking that way, but it’s only result of the propaganda lining the streets. Your eyes are burning holes into him. You hear the blood rush to his face and ears, heart pounding.

You clutch your cane tighter, leaning into it. It’s not the best for you, as not only do you have Glaucoma, you happen to be blessed with the co-morbidity of Sickle Cell Anemia. Your joints are weaker than a healthy individual, and intense exercise, like running from the cops, is ill-advised. Your head swims as the tachycardia hits you like a tidal wave.

“Ah-“ Kurt raises his hands, hoping it eases your panic. “Aye, I am, but I am a friend. I won’t hurt you-“

Something whizzes by, grazing the bridge of your nose. Screams ring out in the street, pedestrians scrambling in every which way.

“Halt!” One of the officers bark, pointing some form of gun at the two of you. “You are being detained, mutant!”

The other steadily approaches, reaching for something hooked to his belt. Kurt’s eyes glance from the officers to you, and he closes the gap, wrapping his arms around you. “Take a breath, this may be disorienting.”

“Kurt, what-!“ You don’t get to finish, gasping as you feel yourself being hurled at a racing speed. It takes you by such surprise, you lose grip of your cane.

A plume of smoke clouds your vision as the smell of brimstone burns your nostrils. You cough, wobbling on your feet. You were dizzy before, but this was tilt-a-whirl level of topsy-turvy. You try to use your cane to steady yourself, but find that your weight is being supported by nothing at all.

You begin to head face first to what’s beneath you, but you’re caught by Kurt, his arm wrapping around your torso. “Careful there, friend.” He softly says, lifting you up. He refuses to release you until he’s certain you won’t go tumbling.

You blink. You were just in the alleyway, but now you’re peering down the city of Munich. The cops are just below you, and you see one officer ready his gun, aiming right for Kurt.

“Kurt!” You lunge toward him, the shingles of the roof unkind to being stepped on. It begins to slip away, sending you back down with gravity.

Another shot rings out. Kurt snatches you again, by your scruff, but he didn’t foresee the hit landing on you.

A curdling scream is ripped from your lungs, you feel the pierce of a needle in your side. In an instant, it feels cold, like liquid nitrogen being pumped in your veins. You look down, seeing a vial attached to the needle. Without much thought, you reach to grab it. Whatever it is, you want it out.

“No, don’t do that-“ Kurt firmly grasps your wrist. “I’m sorry, friend, but not until I know what they just dosed you with.”

“Dosed?” Your body not only feels frigid, as if you were tossed into a snow storm naked, it’s quickly increasing in mass. Your legs are growing limp.

“Aye.” His jaw locks, his gaze scanning down at the chaos below the two of you. “We must go.” He tosses you over his shoulder and whispers, “I am sorry.”

Another brief burst of frightening motion, another plume of smoke. It feels like being pitched like a baseball at record speeds. Your tea threatens to come back up from your stomach. You groan, rolling your head to the side. It’s strange seeing such familiar buildings from a birds-eye view, but you recognize you’ve moved a few blocks away in an instant.

You suffer a few more rounds of the sickening movement, before it finally ends. You’re in a cold, quiet bell tower. You’ve lost all sense of direction. You could be halfway across the globe for all you knew.

Kurt rests you against the wall, watching as your body slumps. “I am sorry, friend.” You try to move your head up, to hold his gaze, but you can’t. Your arms lay solid on the harsh stone.

Kurt crouches down, moving your coat away to inspect the projectile lodged in your side. “I am so sorry if this hurts. Please let me know.” His voice is so soft, as if he was speaking to a new born. It comforts you. He gently cups the tube in his hand, reading the inscription on the side. “Tch, American.” He spits.

He sighs, forcing a little smile for you. “Good news and bad news, friend.” He gently frees the needle out from you, ripping a pained gasp out of you. “It is just a tranquilizer, you will not die. It also happened to hit your liver, so it will flush out of your system quicker than usual. Bad news, you will be… Like this, for quite some time.”

You can’t even respond. You’re putting all your willpower into focusing on him, keeping your eyes open.

“But fret not, I will keep you safe!” He grins, slipping the tranquilizer into his pocket. “They do not call me the Great Nightcrawler for nothing.” He chuckles, but the worry lines on his face are crisp, even with your vision.

He glances over his shoulder. The chilly air only burns as wind whips across your features. You begin to shiver. When he looks back to you, he scrambles to slip off his coat, draping it on top of you. Underneath, he wears a tight black, red, and white uniform.

Silly, you think, your rational slipping, his circus outfit, here?

“Ah, I am so sorry.” He gently wipes a tear that you hadn’t registered. “You are safe, shh. Rest.” He pats your head.

You gain your senses for a moment, frustration boiling in you. You don’t, can’t, let yourself go. Not here, not now. You blink, again and again, fighting those heavy eyelids.

In astonishment, you watch as Kurt opens your satchel, rummaging around. He pulls out your wallet. Is he… Robbing you? How could he? You grumble in protest, but it falls on deaf ears. He places your wallet back in your bag, laying it gently in your lap.

“Rest easy, friend. I will return, I promise you.”

Smoke swirls in front of you, that now familiar burning smell hits you. The last thing you can recall is noticing a rosary, of all things, resting in your palm. The face of The Messiah watches you as you helplessly black out.

- - - -

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Find the fic here on AO3

Banners by @/cafekitsune

#my works #⚔️#kurt wagner #nightcrawler #x men evolution #xmen #x-men #kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #gender neutral reader #fluff #angst #x reader #xmen x #reader #x-men x reader #xmen fanfic #x-men fanfic

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bamfkeeper · 2 months ago

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Sweet Iced Tea.

RQ: 'Could I give you a penny for your thoughts on nightcrawler with a southern s/o. I’m from the deep south and He Is So Dear To Me. I just wanna feed him and make him go horseback riding with me.' - @leon-de-la-vega

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader | Warnings: None

A/N: Half my family comes from the south, so I get this hard. Written as headcannons because this idea can be so versatile. Please ignore mistakes it's 4am ;; Dankeee

Kurt is very interested in your lifestyle. He grew up in a circus where the animals were kept in poor conditions and abused, so when he hears about you taking care of animals he is very intrigued.

He's a little nervous, not sure what to expect, but upon seeing your horses and how you treat them, he's pleasantly surprised.

"Mein Gott, they are so shiny," Kurt pets one of their manes, grinning at the horse.

He would adore horseback riding, he'd be a little skeptical at first. He'd be afraid to make the horse uncomfortable, or doing something wrong, but you promise him everything is fine and you both end up having a lovely ride.

There is a joke to be made here...

He helps with the animals if you need it, and he gladly lends a hand around the farm if you have one. Helping clean, feed the animals, collecting tools or following you around like a puppy to aid in anything you ask.

He'd love the food. He eagerly asks questions about the foods you eat. He loves corn and potatoes, since German meals are often hardy, it's not much different.

Brisket?? God he loves it. Sometimes he helps you cook too, but he mostly likes to watch while holding your hips.

You have a game where you hold up ingredients and he says their name in German. You try to repeat it, often mispronouncing, but he doesn't have the heart to correct you.

He tries on your hats and clothes, which are too big on him, but he's absolutely adorable in them.

He has a hard time learning the lingo.

You have to explain to him the terms since English isn't his first language anyway, and some terms in English confuse him. Now hearing Southern ones further makes it difficult for him to understand.

"Liebling...what does druthers mean? I cannot find it anywhere..." Kurt frowned, looking to you with confusion. "Und dog won't hunt? Dogs do not hunt, they eat inside? They are not wolves anymore."

His first time trying sweet iced tea, his eyes about bug out. Especially when you made it fresh. "Ach, das ist wunderbar!" Kurt practically downs the glass, looking expectantly for a refill.

He loves when you fuss over him. It can be over anything, a wound, what he's wearing for the weather, how much he's eating, etc. You fuss over him so lovingly, it's how you show your care and he is more than happy to sit and be the center of your attention.

Kurt gets used to the unique scents of your lifestyle too, and eventually he seeks out smells of your home and you to feel comforted when he's at the mansion.

You're kind and respectful as you were raised, and he is drawn in by your warmth and generous hospitality. You are so hard working and loyal, you never expect anything back for kindness.

You had so many traits he adored, and it only made him love you even more.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedbylight

Forgot which comic this image is from, please let me know! Other photos from pinterest.

#kurt wagner #nightcrawler #kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #kurt wagner x you #nightcrawler x you #x men #xmen #x men 97 #🎠my works

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cera-writes · 6 months ago

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Hi! Saw your nightcrawler requests are open again.

Could you write a one shot of slightly chubby reader getting more and more annoyed because Kurt has picked up the habit of being more and more touchy, squeezing/gently poking them with his tail, hands etc and them being more self conscious about it thinking it was teasing and not caring how it made them feel, only for Kurt to be caught off guard and confused because no? He just thinks you feel really, really nice which is why he was taking every opportunity he could to feel you? He feels bad that he made you feel bad about yourself, but he makes it up to you (maybe in an nsfw scenario or sfw and they remain really close friends, whichever way works for you to write)

Beyond the Touches

A/N: here you go, anon! Hope this was okay <3 Pairing: Kurt Wagner x gn!reader Tags: fluff, TW: Implied Body Insecurity, Comfort, mutual pining

It started subtly. A brush of his tail against your arm as you reached for a mug, a playful poke to your side when you made a joke. At first, you brushed it off, laughing it away as Kurt's usual brand of playful teasing. But as the days turned into weeks, the touches became more frequent, more insistent.

A gentle squeeze on your lower belly as you walked past him, a lingering hand on the small of your back as you sat down. Each time, a prickle of heat rose under your skin, not from arousal, but from a creeping self-consciousness. Your stomach, usually a source of mild amusement, suddenly felt like a giant, wobbly target.

"Ugh, Kurt," you mumbled one evening, swatting away his hand as he tried to "adjust" your sweater. "What's gotten into you?"

He looked up, a playful glint in his eyes. "Just making sure you're comfortable, Schatz. You're so squishy!"

Squishy. The word hung in the air, heavy and unwelcome. You forced a smile, but the heat in your cheeks burned hotter. "I'm plenty comfortable, thanks. Maybe a little too comfortable, actually."

He frowned, the playfulness fading. "What do you mean?"

"Just…" you sighed, unable to meet his gaze. "Maybe lay off the physical stuff for a while, okay?"

The playful glint was replaced by genuine confusion. "Why? Did I do something wrong?"

You avoided his eyes, the sting of potential rejection a sharp pang in your chest. "It's nothing. Just…" you mumbled, "personal space, you know?"

He sat back, a heavy silence settling between you. You stole a glance at him, his brow furrowed in concern. The pit in your stomach deepened. Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe it was just his way of being affectionate.

The following days were strained. Kurt kept his distance, his usual lightheartedness dimmed. You missed the teasing, the unexpected touches. Now, the quiet felt deafening. Was this what you wanted?

One particularly gloomy afternoon found you curled up on the couch, a mug of tea warming your hands. A faint warmth settled beside you, and Kurt's voice, softer than usual, filled the room. "Mind if I join you, Liebling?"

You looked up, hesitantly meeting his gaze. He offered a small, hesitant smile. "Not at all."

He scooted closer, but instead of his usual touch, he simply rested his arm on the back of the couch beside you. The silence stretched, but this time, it was comfortable. Finally, you spoke.

"Kurt, about the other day…"

He looked at you, his yellow eyes filled with concern. "You can tell me anything."

Taking a deep breath, you blurted out, "I thought you were… teasing me."

His brow furrowed. "Teasing you? How?"

You mumbled, "The touches. I thought…" Shame burned in your cheeks. "I thought you were making fun of…"

He cut you off, his voice laced with surprise. "Fun of what? You? Never, mein Schatz! You're…" he hesitated, then blurted out, "You feel amazing. Like a giant cuddle cloud."

Your cheeks turned scarlet. "A cuddle cloud?"

He laughed, a genuine, warm sound that chased away the gloom. "Yeah, a cuddle cloud! Soft, warm, perfect for snuggling."

You stared at him, unsure of what to say. He looked at you, a shy smile playing on his lips. "So, can I… maybe… cuddle the cuddle cloud?"

His words, devoid of any malice, hit you with unexpected force. Shame melted away, replaced by a warmth that spread through your chest. "Maybe," you said, a shy smile mirroring his own, "you can."

He scooted closer, this time wrapping his arm around you, pulling you close. His touch was gentle, a warm reassurance instead of a teasing prod. You melted into his embrace, the warmth of his body a welcome comfort.

Maybe, you thought, a little cuddle cloud wasn't such a bad thing after all.

#xmen #x men 97 #cera writes #nightcrawler x reader #kurt wagner x reader

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a-roguish-gambit · 2 months ago

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Going to a ren fair this weekend. Doodled this real quick. The mini mutants have been tempted by the alure of the math rocks

#nightcrawler #wolverine #logan howlett #kurt wagner #rogue x men #anna marie darkholme #sweet-tea #mini mutants #x men 97 #my artwork

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icarusredwings · 3 months ago

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Finding home Au things that are canon (because I said so, and it's MY au so I can do whatever I want. Send me headcanons, and I'll approve them)

Gambit just got back from the void so he's just now meeting everyone. He looks a little different from how they remember since their gambit really was never a full team mate and rather then just some guy that helped Logan a couple of times. This being said hes meeting Rouge as a 35 year old linguistics teacher for a bunch of brats, flirting with her in the halls, trying to impress her all the time, etc. He wanted to have a cool class like how to use a Bo staff or tutor energy weilding kids but instead got stuck with sex ed. Because of this, he now makes a ton of jokes to Rouge about it (she's across the hall) but actually is really excited to start his cooking elective class this coming fall when he's considered a real team member.

Ororos heals click in the hall like they did when you were a kid and you could tell the principal is coming. She's almost always with a tea or a coffee, walkie talkie and keys jingling. She's very sweet but kids shit their pants if sent to Mrs. Munroes office, meanwhile Mr. Summers office is a nothing, just a lecture and a slap on the wrist. Aint no one actually scared of lasik because they know thw worst theyll get is community work for a couple of weeks but they ligit cry the second theyre sent to munroe's (especially if they know theyre guilty of a big prank or something)

The school gives out free hygiene products and depending on what you need you can special request it.

If students get too angry they are sent to Piotr's art room for art therapy. He surprisingly is very artistic and chill.

Forges shop class is working on a car with no weight limit and that can handle their heavy hitters (Colossus and Wolverine) both in the same car (most bust) as well as a car made from plastic recycling. They're working on it. Its only blown up once!!

Gambit makes breakfast for the staff and some students of they beg enough. He keeps bringing Rouge the first cup of coffee from the pot and has made her pancakes shaped like hearts multiple times. Watching her stab them and smother them make him... giggle helplessly.

Gambit🤝Watching their love intrests viscously stab and rip apart their meals with a boner wishing it was them🤝Wade

He's very respectful towards her, though and sometimes is a bit (COUGH a lot COUGH) of a kiss ass.

Hank's students have blown up the lab at least 4 times by now. One of those times was Wades fault for touching stuff he wasn't supposed to.

Kurt is very glad that Wade has taken over his Duel weaponry/swordsman class, so now he has time to start working out a pitch for a world's religion class+ sunday school. He still runs a fencing club, though.

Peter (quicksilver) has tried so many different positions, including music teacher of all different instruments. Now he just kinda lounges around in the game room and speed cleans the mansion after each day in like 2 minutes flat. Imagine being paid a full salary just for 2 minutes of work? And you get to live somewhere for free and play games all day? Fuck yeah.

Positions I've been thinking about:

Beast (Dr. Henry "Hank" McCoy) is the Vice-Principal, so he does orientation. He has multiple science classes, including biophysics, and has electives in philosophy and poetry.

Colossus (Piotr Rasputin) is an art teacher and handles art therapy

Gambit (Remy LeBeau) runs a sex-ed class and is hoping to soon get approved to run a cooking class next semester.

Nightcrawler (Kurt Wagner) has a fencing elective as well as a religion class, sunday school, and sometimes helps Morph with drama/theater. (Ex duel weaponry instructor)

Rogue (Anna Marie) is a Linguistics teacher who drabbles in social science. “Diction and Linguistics, with Professor Rogue” She can teach just about any language, but russian/german/ french/ spanish and Japanese are her main ones. She's who you go to if you dont understand English and need help. Almost all foreign students have her.

Cyclops (Scott Summers) is the headmaster. He has classes in Geometry, has an elective for leadership and communications (PFFT) as well as being the schools mobility/disability specialist. He, of course, specializes more with children who have trouble with their eyesight.

Storm (Ororo Munroe) is the Headmistress. She has an Environmental Science and Political Science class as well as a multi cultural elective.

Shadowcat (Katherine "Kitty" Pryde) has a comp-sci class and runs an ethics class.

“Ethics 101: Forgetting Everything You Ever Learned From Emma Frost, with Professor Pryde.”

Wolverine (Logan Howlett) is a(n occasional hand to hand combat/ martial arts) PE instructor. (Ex History teacher)

Jubilee is the schools event organizer, event coordinator, event manager, and more broadly, event professional, the ‘hip’ school counselor. "Activities Director & Counselor"

Morph is the director of drama acting and disguises (duh)

Laura is a graduating student In training under the Wolverine (Gabby is a student and is too young to be an understudy)

Yukio graduating student In training Under Storm or Rouge (I can't decide)

Negasonic teenage warhead (Ellie) graduating student In training under Jean Grey.

Mr. Wade Wilson (Deadpool) Is in training under Colossus. Duel weaponry/ swordsman tactics class instructor (plus whatever Logan's doing, he's very nosey and WILL cause issues if bored)

Jean Grey is an english teacher, has a class on psychology, and drabbles in physics.

Ice man (Bobby) is the school financal advisor/accountant and runs a business elective class.

Forge is a Shop teacher.

Quicksilver (Peter maximoff) Janitor, housekeeping, music teacher, replaced original Logan as PE teacher for a while, target practice, teaches fast kids how to avoid running into walls, always in the game room, stock/ errand boy, gets bored super quickly, sports instructor, Read almost all the books in the library, likes swimming, mainly just lays around waiting for something fun to do, his father causes trouble sometimes which he thinks is entertaining but also hella embaressing.

I'm unfortunately left without a history teacher, so shoot me any ideas :)

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drowninginblox · 2 months ago

Text

Never read Fanfiction in the Kitchen at 3am. Or do.

Kurt Wagner (nightcrawler) x reader fanfic Reader and Kurt or similar ages, GN reader (don't mind how gendered the German language can be!), Mutant reader, very self-indulgent, and fic awareness BTW You can put in any iteration of Kurt you want. I just have a '97 and Fox bias (Yes my taste is shit, why are you surprised??) Btw this is written in the second person POV. I am not sorry.

It was late. You should have gone to bed.. what? Three hours ago? But you were being f e d. Your fave just uploaded after a year-long hiatus for a ship that you knew would never happen- Nightcrawler X Reader.

You were sitting in the kitchen, kicking your feeding and giggling into the hoodie you were using as pajamas. Oh, the professor must be so disappointed in you. But who cares! If he wants to know that you think his lingering gase whenever he talked about Magneto was grounds for a classic case of internalized homophobia then that's on him. He wouldn't be looking into the hellscape known as your mind if he didn't want to know the absurdity of the X-Men fandom.

You only lurked from the sidelines, giggling at the headcanons and imagine scenarios that people made up for the majority of the X-men. The funniest were always Logans even though most of them are so well written. But now was not the time for that- you were indulging in your crush on Kurt. This author is characterizing him pretty well all things considered. I mean yeah, they emphasize the tail a bit, and don't really lean into his German but- you'll take what you can get. Most of these people are humans that don't really divulge into mutant territory. But you think this writer is one. It's either that or they've done their research. They really understand the struggle and don't shy away from the animosity that comes with living with physical mutations.

You take another sip of tea as you read, savoring the dialogue of the reader insert. This Y/n is hilarious but sensitive. "Whatcha reading?" You immediately close the laptop as you jump- almost spilling your tea as you see Kurt, eating a banana. You shakily put down your mug "Holy fuck Kurt-" You mumble, taking a breath. "You scared me! What the hell?!" He only laughs at your suffering, making you huff. "What are you doing up?" she asks lowly. Kurt's laughter dies down after a minute or so. "Oh, I was just hungry. And then I saw you! You seemed very invested in whatever you were reading. Was it saucy?" He mused, taking another bite of the banana. You sigh. "I don't need to tell you what I was reading, I just was." You defend as your mutation activates on its own. You, dear reader, can change color! Any color! But you don't control it all the time. Sometimes it reflects your emotions- like right now.

"That's a wonderful shade of pink you have mein bunter freund. Jetzt bin ich wirklich interessiert... What had you so invested?" Next thing you know, he's gone in a dark cloud. Then he's holding your laptop. Now he's sitting on top of the fridge. "Kurtis!" You nearly yell. "Give that back!" Your skin only grows into a hot pink. He only laughs from his position, opening up your laptop. "Come now it can't be that bad!" He looks down at your computer, reading the fanfic. All you can do is watch as his face gets closer to the screen. Your skin erupts in various shades of dark blues, purples, and greys while tears build in your eyes. Embarrassment and shame make lumps form in your throat. "I-I hope you're happy Kurt." You mumble as you walk away, not caring anymore about what he may or may not think of you because now he knows two of your biggest secrets. The first being you read fanfiction, and the second that you have a crush on him. Just great.

"H-Hey! Wait! Mein regenbogen!" You hear him call but you keep walking back to your room. This night can't get any worse if you just hide from it. Maybe tomorrow you can convince him to forget that this ever happened. Or maybe convince yourself that this is all a bad dream. He keeps calling your name until eventually he appears a yard away from your door, laptop in hand. "Listen I-" You take your laptop out of his hands. "First of all, I don't care that I like you-grabbing someone else's shit regardless of who they are is not cool Kurt. Second- I was not reading what you may or may not have seen and any mention of it that reaches me is going to equal to one hour of ass-kicking. Do you understand?" Kurt looks on at you, startled by the sudden hostility. "Kurt." Kurt blinks a few times before nodding. "Good. Nothing happened, I'm going to bed, goodnight." You manage to say before tears start to run as you rush to your room.

Before you can get inside, he grabs your wrist "Before you go- please- hear me out" You look at him. "Nothing happened Kurt-" "I like you too!" Your eyes immediately widen. Any words you had in store for him vanished, only replaced by awestruck stuttering. "Wh-what-" "I have loved you for years! I never knew you were interested let alone pining-! If I had known I'd have confessed to you earlier and I know that I shouldn't have taken your stuff, that was awful on my part. Es tut mir so leid, meine Liebe, bitte verzeih mir. Ich werde es auf jede Weise wieder gutmachen.-" You blink a few times before taking a hand, making him stop immediately. "Meine liebe... my love? You- actually?" Kurt nods. "Almost as soon as I saw you." He squeezes your hand. "I- I didn't think you'd be attracted to-" Your eyes widen even more. "Kurt! Don't you dare finish that sentence! You are so handsome! You're the most handsome man I've ever seen!" You confessed. His face becomes a darker shade of blue as you realized what you just said.

"I-I am the most handsome man... you have ever seen?" he mumbles. He takes a few moments to process that. "So... you.." You nod. "For little over a year." He smiles. You can't help but smile back.

Who knew life imitates fiction? Let alone fanfiction?

#kurt wagner x reader #kurt wagner #fanfic awareness #no beta we die like men #the aim is #x men 97 #but you can put in any interation of #xmen

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