#char: Charles Xavier

[excelsiorfics]

That Which We Are

Date: April 1, 2018 Author: GrayJay Rating: Not Rated Word Count/Status: 3,482, complete Dynamic: N/A Characters: Scott Summers, Christopher Summers, Charles Xavier, Jean Grey, Logan (X-Men), Ororo Munroe, Emma Frost, Hank McCoy, Moira MacTaggert, Nathaniel Essex, Alex Summers Tags: Medical Trauma, Needles, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Closeted Character, Trans Male Character, Canon Compliant, Character Study

Summary:

The day he loses his glasses and brings down half the orphanage is the day he becomes Scott for good.

(Or: The universe where Scott isn't born Scott.)

[rolandtowen]

what's up nerds, new fanfiction for yall!

I went on hiatus for three years and came back with Cherik brain rot. Read it on ao3 or under the cut. Chapter two will be up shortly.

It started innocently enough. A chess game, two glasses of scotch, what could go wrong?

The topic of conversation this night was the hypotheticals of their powers.

“Do you think you could control the iron in a person’s blood?” Charles moved one of his knights forward.

Erik hummed noncommittally, moving a pawn forward one space. “I think it’s possible. I haven’t truly had the opportunity to try it.”

“But, could you sense people by their blood perhaps? Not manipulate it, but recognize it the way I recognize minds?”

Erik smirked. “That seems like something I could try without a certain someone getting mad at me.”

Charles put up his hands in mock surrender. “Not saying I want you to mess with people’s veins, but it’d be good to know in case we run into anyone else with your mutation.”

Erik knocked a rook off the board with one of his bishops. “I’ve always wondered, do people have to be alive for you to get into their minds? Hank was telling me the other day that scientists think there can be electrical activity in the brain for a few minutes after death.”

Charles scoffed. “I don’t really make a habit of trying to commune with the dead, darling.” He moved his queen. “Check.”

“Well, what if you could tell those scientists for sure? Connect with someone before they die, and see what all that activity afterwards is about?” Erik moved his king.

Charles stiffened. “I find that highly unethical.” Charles slid his rook to protect his own king.

Erik glanced up at him, gauging his emotions as he moved his last knight. “Just speaking hypotheticals, liebling. Check, by the way.”

Charles made a wasteful move with another pawn, clearly uncomfortable with Erik’s line of thought. “I wouldn’t advise any telepath to stay connected with someone during their death. I did it only once, and never again.”

“What do you mean?” Erik thought that perhaps Charles had reached out to Raven before she died, perhaps to give her some comfort.

Charles’ eyes grew hard. “When you killed Shaw.”

Erik’s hand froze in the middle of moving his rook. Charles saw his confusion immediately.

“What, did you think I was able to keep him frozen and not be connected to him telepathically?”

Erik began to feel a sinking feeling in his gut. “I guess, I thought—I thought you let go when I..”

“When you started driving a coin through his head?” Charles forcefully moved his queen forward. “Had I done that, he could have killed you.”

“So you tied yourself to a dying man?!”

“It’s not my fault you were killing him! Fucking slowly, might I add.”

What?

“You felt him die? Why didn’t you tell me?” The chess game was forgotten.

“When would I have had the time? You shot me and left with my sister.”

Charles regretted his words instantly as Erik lowered his eyes. “To be honest, Erik, I wasn’t entirely sure what happened. It took me weeks to come to terms with the fact that I felt Shaw die. No other telepath has felt another’s death, at least to my knowledge.”

Erik was quiet for a long moment, before speaking in a whisper. “Show it to me.”

“What? No!” Charles sputtered. Erik still wasn’t meeting his eye, so Charles grabbed his chin and forced him to look at him. “Erik, I am not about to force the worst pain I’ve ever felt into your mind.”

“You aren’t forcing me,” Erik countered. “I’m asking you to show me.”

“Why? So you can make some demented penance? This is new level of masochism, even for you.” Erik’s jaw clenched, but his eyes betrayed his emotion. Charles softened his grip on Erik’s chin, scraping a thumb over his cheek. It was wet. “My love, I’ve already forgiven you, for all of it.” He wanted to run his fingers through Erik’s hair, talk him down from this ledge, and forget this whole conversation.

Erik caught Charles’ hand, holding onto it like an anchor. “How am I supposed to forgive myself, Charles? When I never even knew what I did?” Erik brought Charles’ fingers up to his temple. “Show me. You carry so much of my pain, let me carry some of yours for once.”

Charles’ hand was shaking, but Erik sent a mental message, inviting him in, begging—

Please.

Charles’ answer was agony.

***

Immediately, Erik was flooded with voices.

“Now, Charles!”

“Are you okay?”

“Moira, be quiet—I can only control this man for so long.”

Erik was in Charles’ head, in his memory, yet at the same time he was in his own head, as well as Shaw’s. He could see his past self, picking up his helmet.  

“Sorry, Charles.” His own voice, haunting him.

“Erik, please—be the better man—Erik, there will be no turning back!” And just like that, the connection between them was severed as his past self donned his helmet. This was where Erik’s own memory had previously ended their conversation, but now Erik could hear every word that Charles had screamed at him, willing him not kill Shaw.

He felt Charles’ fear when his past self revealed the coin. It was like the floor dropped out from underneath Charles. Chills ran down his spine. He wanted to run, to fight, but Charles knew that if he let go, Erik could die.

For the first time, Erik could also hear Shaw. For a man who presented himself as so superior, his final thoughts were frantic and pleading.

Xavier, please, unfreeze me. Please, I can help you. I have resources, anything you want—you can have it. Please don’t let me die like this—

But overriding Shaw’s babbling was Charles, still focused on Erik, still pleading with him, despite their severed connection.

“No, please, Erik, no.” Charles’ voice was quavering but his power remained strong. Erik could see through Shaw’s eyes as the coin approached, could feel Shaw screaming, but most of all could feel Charles begging to be heard by him. “Please, Erik.”

Erik finally understood the fear. It wasn’t that Charles was so afraid of Erik killing Shaw—Charles was afraid the Erik was going to kill him.

Charles thought he was about to die, but held onto Shaw anyway.

As the coin drew nearer and nearer to Shaw, Erik could hear Charles whimper one last “please”. And then the pain started. Charles could only scream, but even in his agony, Erik could still hear him mentally calling out for him.

Erik, Erik, please, it hurts. Erik could feel Shaw’s skin splitting and his skull cracking, could feel the shards of bone impaling nerves and skin. When Erik killed Shaw, it felt like no time at all passed between the moment the coin entered his head and passed out the other side, but to Charles—this was an eternity. Erik could pinpoint the exact time Shaw’s screams finally cut out, but Shaw was still feeling, which meant Charles was too. After what felt like years, Charles’ connection to Shaw cut out, and Charles’ mind went black.

[innkeepercore]

my parents

[periprose]

May i request a Logan x angel!reader fic where the reader had to get medical treatment after a mission because her angel wings (that are apart of her mutation) were burned and partially damaged after battle, and Logan comes in to check up on her?

anon I loved this ask ahhhh thank you. I'm like half considering making this a series if people want it (so send more angel requests if you're into it!) <3 I may have made it more angsty but there is fluff at the end :) also reader goes by Angel in this fic.

When Flight Comes to Fire (or, Logan Gains a Guardian Angel)

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: Best friends to lovers, mutual pining, X-Men stuff, idiots in love, angst, hurt no comfort, fluff, kissing

LGGA Masterlist

The first time your mutation made it’s appearance– sharp shoulder blades growing into thick appendages, soft, buttery white feathers extending from them in that unhuman way, your wingspan making it clear you would never be normal– your mother retched and said she would have done anything to chop them off of you. Would’ve done anything to have a normal kid.

In fact, she tried, multiple times, to do so. You were only twelve when she came at you for the first time, in your sleep, feeling falsely secure in your father’s platitudes about how she would never really do anything. You woke up to her reaching inside your blanket, grasping one of your wings as she brandished a knife in her other hand. Luckily, your wings were strong enough to shove her off, but you remember how you screamed at her.

Why, mom? It’s me! It’s me–

She didn’t listen, coming at you again, promising in delirious anger that everything would be okay soon if you would just let her fix it, and she had to be held back by your father, as he called the police. 

Because you were her kid, she got let off with a warning, and you were stuck. So you would often fly to the tallest treetops and take your rest there, trying your best to ignore your mother’s other attempts on your life. She didn’t seem to ever get it. You would never be normal.

The final attempt was probably the worst, and the one that caused you to fly away in the end to Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.

You were twenty years old, just old enough to legally leave home– you only stayed because your father insisted. 

She set your favourite tree on fire. You had no idea your mom had been in enough anguish to essentially murder you for daring to be different.

You awoke to the deep smell of smoke, of tree bark charring, and then you heard the cracking and sparks. The tree quickly caught fire, and you shrieked in pure terror as the heat of the flames approached you. The immense light emitting from the fire blinded you, and suddenly there was a sharp pain from your wings and back– you were getting scorched.

So you flew upwards, high enough that the fire dissipated off your back instantly in the cool night sky’s air, and you were fine. Nothing to show other than a little scar, and the sounds of mutiny coming from your mother below. 

You chose to forget her– no point in repairing a relationship with a woman who didn’t want you as you were.

But you’ve never forgotten the pain of being burned alive.

/

“Angel. You ready?” Logan is to your right in the foyer of the mansion. “Everyone else is waiting in the helicarrier.”

He’s your best friend, has been ever since you came to the X-Mansion as a runaway. It’s not an uncommon story among mutants, but Logan always felt you were like him. Rough, not the easiest to speak to, having a tendency to keep to yourself.

The major difference to him is that you’re a lot easier on the eyes. 

Seriously, it was almost like the universe was playing a joke on him. Here was a beautiful girl with literal angel wings, just missing a halo as she arrived at the door for the School for the first time, and he just happened to be the first ugly motherfucker to open the door.

Logan’s never quite sure why you keep up with him, why you stay friends with him, if he was just lucky enough to be the first person you saw and liked. It drives him nuts, the way in which you rely on him, trust him more than he thinks he deserves, you come to him at every moment just to talk over everyone else, when surely you could have anyone else’s attention.

Especially any stupid guy, like him. He’s not sure how you haven’t noticed– even now on the staircase, he can’t tear his gaze away from you. Logan feels bad to be so in love with you, too– he wonders if he’s reading into things too much, if he’s pushing for something that isn’t really there.

And he’ll never know, because you’re so damn flighty. Logan can barely keep up with your whims, and he only knows as much as you’ll tell him about yourself (he hardly knows where you came from that fateful first day), so he just lets you come and go as you please. He’ll keep his feelings deep inside, where you can’t possibly find out about it.

“Yup, I’m fine.” You have a brief smile for him, which gives him that familiar twist of the stomach. “Oh. You’re not wearing your uniform?”

“It’s better to be incognito for this one, according to Scott.” Logan says, adjusting his flannel, mildly enjoying how you check him out. 

You’re wearing the typical X-Men uniform– bright yellow, blue stripes down your sides, room for wings with a removable panel in the back. You let them loose, now, telling Logan you’ll be right back.

When you return, with quite a flourish, flapping wings in a true superhero-landing– Logan sees that you’re wearing a tank-top, and some jeans that really, really highlight your ass– but he tries not to focus on that.

“Hey. Tank’s inside out, Angel.” Logan says, waiting for you to fly off again, but you simply take off the tank top, and pull it back on the right way, exposing your bra-covered chest and lithe waist for the briefest of moments, while Logan loses whatever he was about to say. “I…”

“Don’t be a perv, Logan.” You jokingly side-eye him, never suspecting that that could actually be true as you tease him. “You’ve seen me change tons of times.”

“Yeah, but out in the open?” Logan stares at you. “You’re gonna have a shit-ton of admirers if you keep that up.”

“It’s just me, please.” You start up this whole I’m-not-pretty schtick that Logan is pretty sick of hearing, and he shakes his head. “Let’s go. They’re waiting.”

Yeah, Logan thinks, they are waiting, but he’s not sure you needed to be all quick and nonchalant about changing, just to get there faster.

That’s what he means by you being flighty– who knows what’s really in your heart, when you act so quickly?

/

“Listen up, X-Men. We’re gonna do our best to avoid damages today, right?” Scott speaks with the air of a leader who’s very fed up with his team members. 

There’s a resounding yes from everyone, including you, Logan, Jean, Storm, Bobby, Rogue, Jubilee, and Kitty.

“What’s our mission?” Scott says, and you answer first.

“Find the new mutant.” You state, and Scott nods, while Logan hides a smile at how adept you’ve gotten at these missions.

“Make sure he doesn’t defect to the Brotherhood.” Jean adds, looking at you and Logan, seeing how close you two sit to each other. She’s kept it to herself– but Jean thinks if you and Logan really do have something going on, that would be nice. For the both of you.

“No damages.” Logan chimes in, and Scott visibly loses a little composure.

“I already said that.” Scott points out, and Logan shrugs. 

“Well, it’s part of the plan, isn’t it?” Logan leans back in his seat on the helicarrier, nestling his head next to your shoulder, not noticing the way your eyebrows raise at the sudden contact. “Better than me not listening at all.”

“Sure, Logan. Fine.” Scott lets it go, knowing better than to ask more from the most “chill” (read: laziest) member of the team.

You laugh a little as Logan smiles a cocky grin.

/

The new mutant is kind of old– you’re looking for a 19 year old with severe singing around his clothes, pale skin, and black hair. You suppose he’d be extremely frightened.

Most mutants don’t deal well with becoming different all so suddenly, let alone at the very late age of 19, when you could assume that you’re pretty much normal. So you and Jean are hoping to find him first– you figure you’re the two that could calm him down.

Unfortunately, you find Jubilee talking to him first. She’s okay, but she has a tendency to be a little too bombastic, as Jean says quite often.

“And there she goes.” Jean grimaces as Jubilee taps the new mutant’s shoulder, and you pick up her saying that “she’s just like him,” which you’re not sure is a delicate way to deal with the topic.

There are crowds of people walking through the streets, too, and a lot of them are glancing at this yellow-jacketed girl talking to a boy with burnt clothes.

If you had found him, you would have brought him to the side, away from people, and–

“His face turned white. He’s freaking out.” You tell Jean, and her eyes narrow.

Bobby, Rogue, and Kitty are nowhere in sight, so this is just one weird young adult speaking to another one, and you really, really wish the rest were here. You, Jean, Logan and Scott are a bit older– perhaps comforting in your age– but you feel like the boy would’ve done well with more peers.

Jubilee raises her hand as you and Jean approach her. “Guys, I got it under control. See, Kyle, these are more people like us. More mutants.”

“...” Kyle looks on in disbelief.

“Kyle?” You try, and he looks at you– there’s something in his eyes that tells you he wants to trust you, but he’s scared– it reminds you of yourself. “We’re here for you if you want us to be. Take your time. Don’t worry.”

You smile, Jean smiles, Jubilee grins, and Kyle seems okay.

It lasts for about two seconds.

Someone drops what sounds like a glass bottle in the distance, and the shattering sound is enough for Jubilee to gasp, a little spark of fireworks launching from her fingertips, towards Kyle, who watches on in trepidation, and his body starts shaking, moving of it’s own accord, clearly reacting to being so close to another form of heat– and you and Jean move, as you yell out “Wait!–”

Kyle shrieks in fear as his body becomes overtaken with flames, combusting with such intensity that the flames roar at least 100 feet over, and Jean– Phoenix that she is– is able to withstand the heat, but you find yourself being pushed back by hot gusts of wind.

It hurts, it feels as if your skin is melting with every passing second. You grit your teeth, trying to breathe as Kyle loses control of his body, and you open your wings, deciding that flying off into the cool air would be a better alternative.

That was a mistake on your part.

The moment you open your wings, Kyle’s fire pushes you backwards, and up, into the hot air, and your wings catch fire as you come too close–

You scream, but it’s unheard through the roar of the flames, and you barely have time to catch yourself as you fall towards the ground, smoking, fiery tendrils engulfing you.

The last thing you remember is your mother’s face.

/

Logan sees it happen from a distance.

Scott wanted him to be as close as possible, something about keeping watch on him– and Logan gets it, he’s not always the most responsible, but later on, in hindsight, he wishes he was, because then he wouldn’t have missed what happened to you– and they both turn as a fire overtakes a block of the city.

“Shit, that must be him!” Scott starts running, Logan not far behind.

It’s only when he sees a pair of white wings, a woman flying up, up, up, the fire approaching dangerously close to her– to you– he starts speeding up, overtaking Scott, pushing people out of the way.

Logan wonders what he could do, anyways. He’s invincible, practically, incapable of taking on much damage as his regenerative abilities heal him– perhaps he could run to the kid and knock him out, sustaining burns in the process, but better him than you.

Never you.

Any second now– Logan sees the boy, and he’s got an open fist ready to lightly tap the back of his neck.

He’s not fast enough. Scott yells out, and Logan looks up to see you engulfed in flames, as you scream, and it’s awful to hear– usually you seemed so speedy, so ready to fly at a moment’s notice, that Logan forgot you could be hurt.

He calls out your name. It’s unheard by you as you crash on the ground, still burning– Bobby, Kitty, and Rogue have caught up to you from the other side of the street, and Bobby quickly makes an icy mist that subdues the flames on you, and Kyle’s roaring fire back into him.  

You’re unconscious as the X-Men approach you. 

Logan touches your face as he kneels next to you, the only one willing to come close right now. “Hey, Angel…”

There’s that unspoken fondness between you two, yet again. Everyone knows, even when Logan has tried to act cool about it. Even now, when Logan attempts to act like he isn’t totally hanging on to your potential words, searching for a breath, a little movement of your head. 

Jean, Scott, Jubilee, and the rest look on in trepidation.

You don’t respond, and he feels his heart plummet. You’re covered in burns, mostly across your stomach and back, and he inhales sharply as he turns you over– there’s fresh, scalded skin, crispy-red to the touch.

Your back, your wings– they’re damaged so badly, with feathers singed straight off, the muscular appendages more visible and wounded, and Logan doesn’t know if you’re alive. He almost removes his hands from you, the very thought seeming to scald him from the inside, and he glares at the kid– the one who looks terribly guilty, now, as he runs away.

“Get back here!” Kitty shouts at him, anger in her eyes, and Scott pulls her aside, explaining that it was clearly an accident of sorts– something that Jean confirms for him with a nod of her head.

Right, Jean. Logan knows that if anyone could confirm if you’re alive, it would be her.  

As Scott, Kitty, Bobby, and Jubilee go hunting for the kid– Rogue stays behind because she’s always felt close to you and Logan– Logan looks up at Jean in a solemn, teary-eyed look that has her understanding immediately.

“C’mon, Angel… stay with us.” She mutters, as she presses her fingers to your head, and she smiles comfortingly at Logan.

“She’s still here. Just barely, but still here.” Jean says, and Logan sighs, an angry, long sigh that tells Jean and Rogue that he’s going to be insufferably feeling at-fault here, even though no one is.

“Let’s go.” He picks you up, feeling the burnt skin through that damn tank-top, now barely being held together as tatters– for modesty’s sake, he takes off his flannel and wraps it around you.

Rogue lets Logan and you walk forward a bit, not wanting him to hear what she’s about to say, and then looks towards Jean. “He really loves her, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Jean exhales. “Let’s hope for his sake that she’ll be okay.”

/

Stupid bitch! You’ve been nothing but a curse on this family– fuck you, I hope your future daughter is just as fucked up as you are–

You awake suddenly, with a loud gasp and yell, your mother’s last words to you flashing on your mind– you attempt to pull yourself forward restrained back by tubing in your arm. You’re stuck in a bed. In a hospital bed of sorts.

Not just any hospital bed, one in the hospital wing of the X-Mansion.

You’re calm, at first, until there’s a sudden ache echoing from your back, through your body, through your wings.

“Ah–!” You groan in pain. Trying to move suddenly has hurt you.

There’s a knock at your door. It’s Beast– or, Dr. Hank McCoy, as he’s better known around the hospital wing.

“You’re awake.” Hank says in relief. “It’s been a few days since your accident.”

“It has?” You widen your eyes in shock. “How, w-what… am I okay?”

The last thing you remember is Kyle exploding in flames, causing you to catch fire– then you blacked out, and– you’re having terrible memories of your mother.

“Hank?” You mutter, and he’s quick to come to your side, blue paw-hand holding your own.

“My mother didn’t…”

“No, she’s not here. She’s never come close to you. You’re safe.” Hank states, as Charles has told him to, remembering the few times you’ve had to come to the hospital wing for comfort before. 

So many mutants have troubled backstories, and he doesn’t quite understand why you don’t try to connect with others about it. Hank feels it could really help, but you’ve always changed the subject away from you.

You’re hurt, mentally, in a way that no one can really fix, and Hank is a big believer in letting people progress when they need to– but he’s so glad that you’ve bonded with Logan. 

“Am I going to be okay?” You tap the side of the bed, fears present in your eyes. “Last thing I remember is Kyle going crazy, and I– I got all burnt–”

“Yes, you’re going to be okay. We’ve administered lots of injections, topical ointments, everything that boosts your healing. You might have some scarring after this is all over, but no injuries. You’re very lucky, Angel.” Hank comforts you, and encourages you to lie back.  

“Lucky. Is that what you’d call a girl with a fucked up state of mind?” You murmur, and Hank shakes his head.

“We’re all fucked up.” Hank gets back up, leaving you in your room. “It’s a prerogative to being in the X-Men.”

You smile softly at that. He’s not wrong, but you wish, you really wish you could’ve just been that normal girl that your parents would’ve loved.

You look down at yourself. You’re wearing hospital scrubs, but there’s an unfamiliar fabric underneath the blanket.

Logan’s flannel is splayed across your stomach, a comforting, soft feeling that has you missing him almost instantly. Had he visited you, when you were unconscious, and decided to leave you this as a token, to help you feel at home? 

You lift it up, taking a deep smell of Logan’s signature scent– pinewood, smoke, and something kind of sweet, like… marshmallows? 

It makes you blush, but almost immediately after, you place the flannel back under the blanket. Logan doesn’t need your silly crush, your overt attachment, and you’re smart enough to keep that to yourself.

/

Logan hears from Hank that you’re awake, and although he wonders why Hank told him first, rather than Charles, or Jean, he’s glad to be the first one to see you.

“Hey.” He knocks on your door. To Logan’s surprise, he lets go of a breath he was holding– you don’t look horrific, you have some colour in your face, and there’s a soft smile on your lips when you see him.

You look just like Angel. His best friend. And he comes in real close, ruffling your hair as he often does, maybe more gentle because he doesn’t want to add any more pain.

“Hey, Logan.” You grab his hand, squeezing it with warmth, grateful to see him, before letting go suddenly and looking away bashfully, and he pauses, reminding himself not to think too highly of it.

“Angel. You’re feeling better?” He asks, and you motion for him to sit down on the edge of your bed.

“Yeah. Yeah, I feel okay.” You stare at him. It’s only been a few days, but Logan looks kind of awful– he’s got some serious dark under-eye bags going on, and stubble that is slowly turning into a beard, and there’s an apparent worry on his face that makes you just want to comfort him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Logan tries to ward off your answer with a stern, one word reply, but you’re not having it.

“Really? You don’t look so great.” You say, not without tact. “I hope you weren’t all cooped up in your room, worrying about me.”

Logan makes a sound that’s half way between a sigh, and a laugh at how close you always seem to get to the truth.

“Alright, yeah. Yeah, I was worried to hell about you. Is that what you wanted to hear?” He jokes, but your face falls.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m good now, I don’t…” There’s an air of seriousness coming from you, that Logan doesn’t typically see, something you usually don’t let yourself do. 

“Are you good? Let me see your back, Angel–” Before Logan can even move you to the side, you turn in defiance, letting him see that you are healing. There are still parts of your flesh, red and angry, but for the most part it seems okay, already far better than it was a couple days ago.

Logan breathes a sigh of relief, touching your wings with a tenderness that has you leaning into his touch, and he gently skims over a scar of yours, glad to see that you’re genuinely not as hurt as he thought– but you pull away quite quickly.

“See? You don’t need to care so much, I’m fine.” You sound accidentally very accusatory, but Logan is just as much of a stubborn asshole as you are sometimes, and he narrows his eyes.

“What the fuck does that mean?” He stares at you. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends care about each other. Jesus, you’re the one who always– you’re always checking up on me, sneaking into my room, touching my face and arms and– how else am I supposed to take that?”

It sounds romantic, Logan realizes, after he’s spit all that out– and it does sound like he’s putting the blame of your dynamic on you. And, even worse, it’s all just out there in the open.

“Really. I’m not the only one who cares, Logan, you…” You shake your head, and instead pull his flannel out from under the blanket. “You left this for me. Why do you make it sound like it’s all just me?”

“Okay, fine, it isn’t. Leave it alone, Angel.” Logan pleads a little, his face turning red.

“You’re always acting like I’m gorgeous, you constantly hug me and lean into me, there was that time you let me sleep on top of you–” You continue, feeling more and more confused. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you sound like an asshole.”

Logan blinks, feeling the argument dissipate, as it often does, whenever you get close to confronting each other about feelings– you always manage to fly away.

He won’t let you, not this time.

“You didn’t. I am an asshole– I’ve never bothered to tell you how I feel.” Logan mutters, and the way your face blanches in fear, shyness, tells him to keep going, to push the boundaries. “I let my own stupid ego get in the way of actually caring about you, and I’m not going to make that mistake again. I’ve always– I really love you, Angel. And I’m sorry I never made you feel like that was true, I’m sorry that it’s taken until you got hurt for it to be real.”

You have an incredulous look on your face, one Logan wishes he could take a picture of and frame somewhere, because it’s genuinely funny, but then your lip quivers, and he feels like an asshole again.

You feel like an idiot. You think, all this time, what’s bothered you is that you’ve been avoiding the fire– the real ones, sure, but more the things your mother fostered in you. Your trust issues, the way how you hold people dearly in your heart but you can’t let them get close because you worry you’ll never be enough, it’s all been burning for years inside you, and you’ve never had to confront it until Logan decided to stoke the flames.

“It’s always been real for me, too.” You whisper, trying not to cry. “I just… I don’t always believe if people care about me, I never feel good enough to be something for anyone. It’s not you, Logan, it’s my mom, my upbringing, really.”

You give him a short, brief explanation of what your mom did– something you’ll surely expand on later, when it’s not so fresh, when you haven’t been literally burned recently, and the memories pain you more than ever– and Logan’s face turns sharp, his brows furrow, he’s clearly deeply angry by whatever you’ve just told him. 

“I’m stupid. I just assumed– it was me putting too much pressure on you. You shouldn’t have been on this mission, that’s fucking awful.” He finally says, and then scowls. “I know you don’t want to hear it right now, but fuck that lady.”

You snort at that. “Yeah. Yeah, it was never you– I’ve always loved you too, Logan, more than you know. I’m sorry I’m always running from you.”

“Oh, so you’re consciously doing that?” He teases, trying not to react too much to your proclamation of love for him, although his brain feels as if it’s short-circuited. He squeezes your hand, and you laugh.

“Yup. I’m almost glad I got hurt, if it makes us more serious.” You comment, but Logan turns glum at that.

“Don’t say that, Angel. I still feel bad about it.” Logan holds your face, caressing your cheeks, staring into your eyes, glad now that you’re not going to shove him away. “Next time, I’ll try to take the hits. I’ll live.”

“You don’t have to–” Before you can start rejecting Logan’s offer, he leans in really close, almost kissing you but not quite, his breath hot on your own mouth.

“I want you to live.” He murmurs, and you feel yourself turn warm at that. 

When he presses his lips to yours, it’s almost chaste, because Logan still isn’t sure how many of your walls he can break down in one day– but for once you’re quick to act in the opposite direction now, lifting tubes out of your arm (irresponsible as hell, Logan would say later on) so you can better reach his face, and you run your fingers through his hair as you kiss him, again, and again. 

It’s soft, pliant, and warm, and Logan doesn’t quite know what to say when you come back up for air, breathing deeply, body sweaty from both recovery and how intense this is– he feels around you, around your waist as he leans in again, and you giggle, pulling away for just a moment before kissing him again.

His hands are gentle, skimming over your body without trying to hurt the burns on your back– but Logan feels you clamber onto him, onto his lap, and then he feels the soft feathers of your wings as they pull themselves outward, into the open.

He opens his eyes, and grins in a wolfish manner. Maybe you’ve been changed by what happened, maybe you aren’t the same, but you’re his Angel now, and he prefers that.

He kisses you again.

[captain039]

He’s Grumpy, I’m sunshine

Alpha!Logan x omega!reader

Warnings: AOB, age gap (legal), light swearing, grumpy/sunshine, anxiety, mental health issues, intimacy, violence, torture, plus size reader, medication usage for anxiety, depression and sleeping, heat pills, scent blockers

Set at Charles school

Your mutation: fire creation and control

I watched Deadpool and Wolverine and found my Wolverine cravings again xD

I’m in love with Hugh Jackman again

This school was your life now, having gone too many nights in a fire proof basement for your ‘out of control spells’ as your father put it. You didn’t have a bad childhood, rich parents each working hard to make their living, sending you to a nice school, college even till you set everything on fire.

You were staying at the college, it was your first month and everything seemed to be going well, your new room mate was nice a beta woman and classes were easy so far. You had your own space some clubs you wanted to check out, new places to see if you ever got the energy. Right now it was study till you passed out, get up go to class, come right back and repeat. It was draining but you needed to get use to it, your mother would call mid week and message every other day. Your father would say a brief hello on the calls but that’s all you’d hear from him, not that you minded. You kept your mutation hidden even if sometimes you felt yourself running a little hotter than usual, sometimes small flames would jump off your skin and you’d stop whatever you were doing, put some music on and focus on the moment. It was the third week, your roommate had invited you to party, you didn’t want to go, but your therapist did say to ‘get out more’ as she put it. So you went, stuck by your roommates side for most of the night till she got pulled away by some guy and they left. You were about to leave when someone approached, another girl in your class, an alpha, you’d forgotten her name but she handed you a drink with a bright smile, sat down with you and talked. It felt nice to laugh about whatever crazy story she was telling, she lived in the country, way out in the country living off home grown vegetables and herding cows. You checked your phone once your drink was gone finding it late so you excused yourself and went back to your room. You found your roommate passed out in her bed and shrugged feeling your head spinning a little, that drink definitely had alcohol in it. You laid down after forcing your jeans and bra off before curling up in and sighing. You awoke to the smell smoke and burning, you shot up, your room on fire, your roommate screaming as flames engulfed her. Your body was on fire also, the flames coming out of you. You tried to stop them tried to reel them in but you had no control, your panic worsened your anxiety worsened and the fire worsened. You heard sirens, shouting and chatter, but all you could do was stand by your roommates bed seeing her charred body. The fire brigade couldn’t stop your fire and you couldn’t cry.

“You’re alright” you frowned looking around seeing no one, but a males voice filled your head.

“Walk outside, we’ll handle the rest” you felt compelled to listen, you walked through the burning hall and outside as the voice said.

“Storm” a man called and you frowned. The world around you stopped, everything frozen but you and the group in front of you. Heavy rain poured down helping stop the flames on the building.

“I can stop this, I’m going to calm your mind, it will feel strange though” the voice said.

It did feel strange your body calming your heart slowing, the flames subsiding, just you, naked in the middle of the campus entrance.

“Jean” the older man in the wheel chair said as you quickly hid your body as the woman came over and wrapped a blanket around you. You thanked her softly shivering but not from the cold.

“Come, let’s get you some place safe” the older man said.

That’s how you met Professor Charles Xavier, Storm or Ororo and Jean grey that day. They said they found you by one of Professor Xavier’s machines he uses. Now you stay here in a fireproof room, with no one else in it, continuing your studies and nobody knew the cause of the fire. The nightmares still haunt you though, your roommates scream, she was such a lovely girl. You found out later that something had been in your drink spiked, majority of the other students just passed out for a day while it turned your powers hay wire and burnt quarter of the college down. You avoided most people, happy in your solitude and avoiding your powers. This school was full of different mutants, still some alpha douche bags around your age but it was a lot less intense and easier. Every time Professor Xavier would ask you to train your power you’d decline quickly and say you were fine with your studies. To be truthful you hated your power, hated the destruction it caused even if majority of these kids had tragic back stories too. You connected with most of the teachers, Jean more so though, Ororo was probably your second, but Jean was an alpha and reminded you of your mother somehow, so you subtly clung to her, made an attachment as your old therapist would call it. Sometimes though you’d catch whiff of another alpha on her, not Scott, Scott was a beta, nor another teacher, it was a strong intense scent you couldn’t pinpoint the smell, Whiskey was one of them, leather it would fade with Jeans scent of Grapefruit and spice.

You were going to see Jean seeing as she was one of the doctors there for some more anti-heat medication, you really wish they would come up with a stupid medical name for the stuff so you didn’t have to say it, even if you were a grown adult. You didn’t knock, figured she knows already with her mutation. What you didn’t expect was to be slapped in the face by a new scent. Slapped in the face was a little excessive, it felt like that though, you stopped in the door way stared at the alpha in the room and forgot how to breathe. Jesus Christ.

You stuttered pointing out the door cursing yourself as Jean smiled a bit.

“I didn’t know someone was here- I’ll um-“ your eyes finally left the male alpha, wondering who he was and wondering why the hell your legs were struggling to hold you up. You almost purred and bared your neck like some cat in heat.

“He was just leaving” Jean gave the male alpha a stern look and he sighed uncrossing his arms and walking to you. You forgot all manners and normal human function as he approached.

“Can I get past you Bub?” He asked voice rough and you slapped yourself mentally.

“Yes sorry, uh bye?” You moved out the way saying goodbye even if you didn’t know him. You heard him chuckle lightly and swore your stomachs did flips.

“You ok there?” Jean asks and you snap out of whatever trance you were in.

“Yes, that was embarrassing, I’ve smelt him on you before it was weird putting scent to face” god help you, you shouldn’t have said that.

“That’s even more embarrassing, I literally hate myself right now” you hung your head and walked over to her desk and sat down.

“You’re alright, how can I help?” She chuckled lightly and you sighed nodding.

“I need more um, Anti-heat pills, maybe some more scent blockers” you mumbled the last part. Scent blockers blocked your scent and others, if he was only briefly staying then good, no more embarrassing malfunctions, but if he was, damn.

“Is he a teacher?” You ask.

“No, Logan is I guess you could say he’s the muscle here even if Charles doesn’t like the thought, Logan’s helped this school more than once, he’s just got back from a mission sometimes he helps trains” she explains as she types on her computer.

“Oh, that’s cool” you say feeling a little stupid as Jean heads over to the locked room in the corner.

“Need any updates on your other meds? You’re going ok? Do you wanna come off them?” She asks.

“No they’re fine, thank you though” you answer as she returns with a small bag and hands it to you.

“Charles asked again if you wanted to join training this Friday?” She asks sitting down again and you tense.

“Oh I’m ok, thank you though” you say and stand.

“I’ll let you get back to work” you smile and say a small goodbye before leaving. You sigh shoulders sagging a little. You’re definitely not going to train now if that alpha will be there.

Next part ->

[unspeakable-imagination]

Cigar smoke and Sleepless nights | part one

Logan Howlett/Wolverine x reader

Rebloggs and likes are appreciated

Cw: Cigars and smoke, drinking, reader has ptsd, Logan has ptsd, canon-typical violence

Part two. Three four

The humans made your life hell, especially since you were the only mute in the tiny town that hardly had 500 people. They ran you out, and in such a time of need, imapretly the old professor had heard your cries the loudest.

It had been five days since you'd arrived at Charles Xavier's school for the gifted. Granted, you weren't a child like many of the people here. A woman named storm had retrieved you, by Charles' request. After leaving your home at seventeen, you lived, bouncing around place to place till you landed in a little nowhere town in montana, just south if the Canadian border. You stayed for awhile, plenty of years, until word got around that you were a mutant.

Storm had managed your retreaval in a matter of hours with the x-jet. By the time she'd gotten you back to the mansion, it was coming dawn, and your bedtime. Foxes are nocturnal, after all.

Storm and Xavier were quick to set you up in a hardly furnished room, telling you to make if your ownm The smell of all of the mutants was thoroughly overwhelming and only made you want to sleep more. So you did.

You slept through just about every hour of daylight, and then, as the sun set, you had finally woken up. It was easy to hear that nobody was awake, and so, in an attempt not to bother them, you found the jacket that you'd tossed on the floor while you prepared to crash. Fishing through the pockets you found the object of your vice, a pack of thin cigarette and pretty silver zippo.

Opting not to wake the people in the building with creaky stairs, you flung open the window, leaning your head as far out as possible, since Xavier didn't like smoking indoors. It was easy to light the cigarette and only took you a few minutes to finish.

When you returned in from the position in the sill, you figured you'd had some exploring to do. It didn't take long to find your way down the stairs, to the communal kitchen, and it didn't take you long to find a pack of bacon in it, either.

It had only taken you another moment to get the stove top lit with a griddle ontop, waiting for the pan to heat. After an impatient few seconds you preferred to just slap almost half the slab and the hardly warm pan and fork it apart, watching parts of it smoke, the fat bubbling. The constant impatience of you flipping the bacon, almost every twenty seconds was making it cook slower, and your frustration rise quickly until you scrunched your face in pure frustration and just threw the fork onto the counter, stepping away in defeat to just let the damn bacon cook.

At this point you didn't care if it burned. Turning around to rummage the fridge, you bristled at the fact you couldn't even find a beer. "Of course not," you stated. "It's a fucking school." Closing the fridge, you jumped in surprise to see the only other person you've met, Hank.

"What's that meant to mean," he said, tilting his head. Hank constantly gave you that innocent and sassy vibe, so you weren't sure what to say. Deciding to be truthful, you shrugged.

"I mean, you guys don't have a beer or even a fuzzy navel, nothing good. I should have figured since there are so many children." He nodded, quickly catching to what you said.

"Alcohol isn't good for you, but if you really need something, I think Logan has something in his room, but he's not here. I can go in and grab it?" You didn't know who logan was, and honestly didn't need a drink that badly. "Plus, we have milk... and water? Oh there are tea packets in the cubbord and, " his eyes shifted to behind you, "and- I think your bacon is burning."

Flipping around you hastily stepped to the stove grabbing the fork you earlier then and flipping the now slightly charred bacon. Grimacing at the smell of the burn, you turned back to the blue beast. "Sorry, Hank. Where did you say that tea is?"

"That cubbored down there," he pointed up to one of cabinets at your knees, under the microwave. You nodded a d grabbed a cup from one of the racks filled with mugs hanging from the wall and filled it with tap water.

"Thanks, Hank. Shouldn't you be asleep?" He nodded before saying something under his breath and then replying.

"Yeah, I'm just on my way there, now. Deal well, [Name]." She said, nodding his head a little awkwardly, then walking away. She just nodded her head and waves him off.

Turning off the burner, you used your fork to scrape off the cooked slices, that had simmered down to a considerablely smaller amount, to your plate your gotten out earlier. You put the water in the microwave and set it on two minutes, just to get the water hot and began to shuffle around in the tea cubbored. After finding some random flower flavor that sounded appealing, you tore open the packet and threw away the wrappers setting the bag on the counter next to the microwave.

"Thanks for the food," you mumbled to whatever God could have been listening. Grabbing the bacon, slice by slice, you practically shiveled it into your mouth until the microwave sounded. You shifted away from the island you were eating on, taking your cup and putting the teabag in, tying the string around the handle so it wouldn't fall in.

You let it steep while you finished your bacon, and looked to the sink. It was empty so you figured, maybe waking what mess you made would be better. Flipping on the faucet, you put the griddle and your plate and fork in, just quickly washing them and setting them in the drying rack. It okay took a couple of seconds, but when the faucet went offc you realized you heard something.

It was a somewhat familiar rumble of a distant motorcycle engine. Plenty of men in montana drove motorcycles and they didn't sound to much doffrent aside from volume.

Grabbing your cup of tea, you listened. The rumble gradually got closer as you sipped, realizing that they were coming to the school. Within a few minutes, they were here. Sipping your tea, you watched a silhouette with the burning embers of a cigar open the door to the school, walk right in, and wander up the stairs. You weren't sure if the man noticed you. IF he did, it wasn't obvious. You tilted your head and listened to him wander down the hallway and slam a door.

Finishing your tea, you shrugged it off and continued your nightly activities.

[rebelwrites]

Winner Takes It All || Twenty Two: She’s a fighter

Charles Leclerc x Valentina Hendrix (OC)

Winner Takes It All Masterlist

Summary: Charles is losing his mind not knowing what was happening

Warnings: hospital, mentions of injuries, emotions

A/N: I am sorry this has taken so long to get this part out and leaving you on a cliffhanger

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

Charles’ POV

Seeing the red flag icon on the screen of the steering wheel my heart stopped, multiple people had spun off out the track but we were yet to see a major accident.

“Box, box Charles.” Xavier said through the radio. “The race has been suspended due to a bad crash.”

The moment he mentioned there had been a crash my heart stopped, instantly I felt my stomach churn at the thought of the crash involving Vali or Pierre. “Who is it?”

The moment I was greeted by silence I knew it was Vali or Pierre. “Xav, who is it?”

“Charles, it's Vali.” Xavier said, his voice was quiet as he admitted who it was.

Turning the corner I saw the debris all over the track, I wanted to throw up. The moment I saw the state of the car I knew it was bad, Vali’s car was now missing the front and rear wing and it was currently on its roof.

I didn’t care if I got penalised there was no way I was boxing when Vali was in this state. Glancing over to my right I saw Pierre I lifted my arm in the air motioning to him that I wasn’t boxing and was going to go back around to Vali. Once I received a thumbs up we both sped off not caring about the consequences. Xavier quickly realised what I was doing. I muted the radio, I didn't need to hear him lecturing me on not boxing.

As me and Pierre arrived at the scene of the crash I never moved so fast, once I was out of the car I ripped my helmet off tossing it into the seat before sprinting over to Vali’s car. I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks, I watched helplessly as they pulled Vali out of the car. No one knew her condition and that scared the living shit out of me.

“Nugget,” Pierre breathed, rushing over to the stretcher taking her hand in his. Pierre glanced over with tears in his eyes. “Char, you coming?”

His words pulled me back into reality and I finally got my feet to move and soon enough I was by her side clutching at her hand. There was no way I was leaving her.

-

My mind was spinning, we hadn’t heard anything from the doctors regarding Vali’s condition and it was stressing me out, it hadn’t been long since I came off the phone with her parents keeping them up to date on the situation even if we didn’t have any news yet. My pride had gone out of the window right now as I dried my eyes after I broke down on the phone with her dad.

“Stupid question but how you holding up man.” Hudson said, passing me a coffee.

“I just want to see her, it’s killing me not knowing anything.” I sighed, leaning against the bland wall of the hotel. “I feel so helpless.”

“She’s a fighter.” Hudson said softly. “She will come back stronger than ever.”

He was right, everything the world threw at her she didn’t stay down for long. She was like a phoenix that always rose from the ashes. Taking a sip of the coffee I winced at the bitter taste of it. A small smile crossed my lips as I realised just how pissed off Vali will be at how shit the coffee was.

“I just wanna say thank you.” I hummed, looking over at Hudson. “For everything you did for Vali.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said quietly. “She is a great girl but I knew from the first day that her heart belonged to you. I was just the person to make her see that for herself.”

“Maybe you are right but you were there when I wasn’t, so thank you.”

He didn’t say anything else but he smiled softly at me before wandering off to give Josh and Pierre their coffees.

Running my hand over my face I let out a shaky breath as I started pacing the hallway. I tried everything to take my mind off everything but nothing was working. I wasn’t going to be able to settle until I saw she was okay.

The moment I saw the doctors wheeling Vali back into the room I had been staring at since the moment we got here, I wanted to break down.

The sight of her broke my heart, she looked so fragile in the clinical white hospital bed. Rushing over to the window I watched as the nurses transferred Vali onto the bed in the room.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her, her soft skin was scattered with cuts and a large bruise had formed around her eye. My eyes dropped down to the cast that went from the middle of her thigh down to her ankle.

“Mr Leclerc,” a nurse said softly, causing me to spin around, waving everyone else over.

“How is she doing?” I breathed, adjusting the knot of the arms of my race suit wrapped around my race.

“Miss Hendrix is a very lucky girl, we did have to sedate her due to the amount of pain she was in. She came around whilst we were examining her and let's just say that girl is strong for her size.” she said, tucking her clipboard under her arm. “She definitely had someone looking over her today. With the severity of the crash we would tend to see more injuries but she has come away from it with a broken rib, three breaks in her leg, and cuts and bruises on her face and body.”

Squeezing my eyes closed I let out a shaky breath, thanking Jules and my dad for keeping her safe. I didn’t know what I would have done if we had lost her today.

“Can we see her?” I asked.

“Of course,” she smiled softly. “She is starting to come around from the sedation, so she might seem a little out of sorts.”

None of us needed to be told twice, within seconds we were all piling into the room. Rushing over to the side of the bed I softly took her hand in mine, brushing my fingers over her knuckles.

“We are here babygirl, everything is going to be okay.” I whispered, looking up at her with tears in my eyes. It hurt to see her like this. All I wanted to do was switch places with her taking away all her pain.

Seeing her open those green eyes was an amazing feeling but that quickly fizzled out when she stared at me blankly. It was a look that scared me, it was like she was looking straight through me, like she didn’t know who I was. This was something that had crossed my mind that due to the impact of the crash that she would suffer memory loss.

“Bear,” she whimpered, reaching out for my hand.

“I’m here Babygirl.” I whispered, brushing my thumb over her skin, relief flooded my body knowing she hadn’t lost her memory. “You scared us all to fucking death out there. And the FIA will regret letting the race go ahead.”

The tears that were threatening to spill over my lash line finally fell once again, this girl was my life and if we had lost her today I honestly didn’t know what I would have done.

The hours passed but I refused to leave Vali’s side, apart from when she managed to bribe me to go to the local coffee shop she found on google, I ignored all of the calls coming from the team and just focused my attention on Vali.

Everyone had left to get out of their race gear, Pierre did come back with a change of clothes for me so I wasn’t stuck in my race suit.

Walking back in the room with a coffee from the local coffee shop my heart broke hearing the whimpers and cries coming from the bed.

“Baby,” I whispered, placing the coffees on the side before perching on the edge of the bed. “What’s all the tears about?”

“My season is over.” She cried, turning to face me. “My first season and this happens, what if I can’t come back from this.”

Letting out a shaky breath I took her hand in mine. “You will come back from this, I promise you.” I whispered. “You are the strongest person I know. I will work with you to build your strength.”

“Can you do something for me?” She whimpered.

“I’d do anything for you, Vali.” I hummed, pressing a kiss against her bruised knuckles.

“Can you stay the night? I just want to be held, I want to feel safe.” Her voice was quiet as she spoke.”

“Scoot over then bug.” I smiled softly, not missing the small smile that appeared on her face as I called her the old nickname I used to call her when we were kids.

It took her a little while to find a position that was comfy due to the cast on her leg and her broken rib but she eventually found the comfiest position with her head resting over my heart. It felt so good to have her in my arms but I hated the situation.

It didn’t take her long to drift off to sleep, letting out a heavy sigh I ran my hand over my face, my heart could finally slow down knowing that she was going to be okay. Yes the road to recovery wasn’t going to be easy, there would be a lot of physical therapy involved once her leg had healed, along with the mental strain it would take on her. There was no coming back this season and I knew how much that would be upsetting her.

Staring up at the ceiling I tried to calm my racing mind, the only sound in the room was Vali’s breathing. I let myself focus on her little snores losing track of time. I knew Vali wouldn’t want me to miss any races but I didn’t care, I needed to be there for her, I needed to show her how much I cared.

The nurse walking in the room dragged me from my thoughts, the soft smile she had on her face was comforting.

“Sorry I know visiting hours are over.” I whispered, running a hand over my face.

“Mr Leclerc, don’t worry about it.” She smiled, as she checked over Vali’s chart. “I never saw you in here.”

“Thank you.” I hummed, feeling the corners of my mouth tug into a small smile. “Quick question, when will Valentina be released?”

The nurse glanced up from the chart, “We are hoping at some point tomorrow, all her vitals are good but we just want to make sure she isn’t showing any delayed signs of concussion or any other injuries.”

I thanked her before she left the room, before I could get lost in any more thoughts my phone started ringing. Smiling when I saw Enrico’s name on my screen I answered the call instantly being greeted by Vali’s parents along with my mum.

“I feel so bad for not being there.” Enrico sighed the moment the call connected. I could see the sadness in his eyes that he wasn’t here for his little girl.

“She understands Papa.” I whispered, dropping my gaze to Vali. “She knows the reason you couldn’t be here.”

“How’s she doing?” My mum asked, causing me to look back up at my phone.

“She’s still kinda out of it from being sedated but it’s honestly going to be a long road ahead.” I sighed, knowing how hard this was going to hit her in the next couple of days. “She’s already been in tears over the fact her season is over.”

“Sono felice che tu sia con lei, figliolo. I am glad you are with her, son.” Enrico said softly.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” I smiled, pressing a kiss against the top of Vali’s head. “Not now, not ever.”

@chibsytelford @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @stillbreathin @angywritesstuff @miamedyu @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @micks-afterglow @livo67 @buendiabebeta @pleasedontfollowinlost @ferrarifwendvale @hungryhungarian @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @sunf1owerrq @queenslife @panicforspec @inesramoss30 @justme2042 @liv67 @sessgjarg @derpinathebrave @idkiwantchocolatee @littleobsessionsandlifeslessons @alynoa @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @organasith @inchidentwithmax @raaaaabzzz @teamspideyman @marvelousmendess @mehrmonga @sbgal @thattaylorswiftobsessedbitch @mloyer

[poetoflawed]

The Aftermath

Part 2 of The Mission NOTE: Again, this is based on the oc that @v-cain Writes about. This is part 2, and I tried to make it a similar ending to the 1st HTTYD movie. So, Hopefully, you like it!

Fandom: X-men

Warnings: Swearing (probably), fighting, hurt/comfort, fire, let me know if there's more.

Pairings: (All Platonic) Logan Howlett x gn!teen!reader, Hank McCoy x gn!teen!reader, Scott Summers x gn!teen!reader, Kurt Wagner x gn!teen!reader, Jean Grey x gn!teen!reader, Jubilation Lee x gn!teen!reader, Charles Xavier x gn!teen!reader, Erik Lenhsherr x gn!teen!reader

Y/n POV

Everything hurts, that's what I notice first. Slowly I try to open my eyes. Everything blurry, and too bright. I shift in a white bed, with sheets that feel like paper. I realize that I feel heavy. white wraps around my body, some stained red others crisp and pure. I manage to get myself upright, only then getting my bearings. I'm back at the academy, In the sterile infirmary. I look to my side and notice that Logan Has scrunched himself into those tiny uncomfortable hospital chars, and fallen asleep. Without waking him, I Manage to Make my way out of the room, I decided that rest is what he needed. when he wakes up i can let him know I'm ok...

Logans POV

Goddamn, these hospital chairs. I keep telling Xavier, that we need new chairs. since there's always someone in the infirmary for one thing or another. As I'm trying to work out the knot in my shoulder I look at the bed and notice that their bed is empty...

Panic sets in as I hear rustling in the hall. I franticly make my way out and see Y/N quietly talking to a nurse,

"the hell are you doing out of bed?!" I ask with a slight tinge of panic peaking through

"i wanted to talk to the nurse, and you were sleeping." Y/N quietly says looking down.

"it's fine, you scared me is all..."

"me? i scared logan, THE wolverine?" they tease

"ok no you know what, go back to bed" i say trying to not let the smile making its way on my face too visible.

note: i will eventually make a part three....

[secrets-of-everwich]

06-1 A Week Later

[Click]

[Electronic hum underlies the recording]

[Sounds of outside – the occasional bird and wind]

{Callie}

Hello, this is Callie Hewitt, recording on the 18th October 2021. And, guess what! I’m not actually in my bedroom. I decided to go on a field trip to the graveyard again. I’m here with Charles and Kitty Florence- Well, just Kitty, I guess. Kitty, do you have anything to say for your fans?

[Silence, other than wind]

Brilliant.

[Callie laughs]

Sorry, I think I was going a little stir-crazy being stuck in my room. Sorry I haven’t been posting too, but I have a good reason. I’ve been studying Adam’s journal- Rin lent it to me. And also Char- Nevermind.

It’s currently early evening, and I’m trying to see if I can spot the Everwich Ghost. I’m here with my hot chocolate, lots and lots of layers because it’s absolutely freezing. Oh, I also have a lantern that I found hidden in a spare room at home. So far, I haven’t spotted the Everwich Ghost, but I have seen approximately 3 crows, a shadow about Xavier’s height, and Bert who is the caretaker of this graveyard four times. Thinking about it, the shadow could have been Bert actually.

While I’m waiting, I thought I’d talk about Adam’s journal. There wasn’t much else. It was mostly discoveries, and a lot of information about Everwich Manor I already knew. Turns out Anne was a good friend of Adam’s, and was hoping to be a nurse. I hope she got her wish. It seemed like Adam ended up forgetting about his book, which was… Annoying.

[Twig snap]

What was that? Probably some animal. It’s definitely getting late, I swear it wasn’t this dark when I started recording this. And it’s only been a few minutes. Do I wrap up my search now? No, no I won’t. The ghost could appear at any moment.

[Rustling]

[Silence, other than the wind]

I do have an umbrella, right? I think I have one, at least. Hold on.

[More rustling]

Here we go. Just in case. I mean, I don’t think it’s going to rain, but. You can never be too careful.

Oh, I could talk about the Greenes. Yeah. I never finished with them, did I? How much did I say? See, I’m distantly related to the Greenes, which is how my parents came into possession of this house. There was Cassia Greene, who was the wife of Bartholemew Greene, and sister of Henry Florence.

Wait, I’ve said all this haven’t I?

[Footsteps]

[Rustling]

Who’s there?

{Voice}

You shouldn’t be out this late, miss. I’m just doing my last round. Getting dark now.

{Callie}

Oh, hi Bert. Yeah, I probably should pack up soon. Just a few more minutes?

{Bert}

I trust you miss, but I really think you should be getting home.

{Callie}

Okay, I’ll start packing up now.

[Footsteps retreating]

[Rustling]

[Footsteps underlies the recording]

So, I’m having to finish my watch early. I’ll just finish my story. The Greenes inherited Everwich Manor, and then were killed, mysteriously. Look, here’s their graves. Bartholemew, Cassia, Edward, Mary and William. They disappeared soon after inheriting the manor. But they knew there had already been disappearances. There’s a letter, back at home, from Cassia to her mother, that I don’t remember off the top of my head, but it says something like, ‘Mother, this house has the spirits of my brother and his family. I wish to leave.’ Or something.

Wait.

[Footsteps stop]

[Loudly]

Who’s there? Bert, is that you?

[Silence, other than wind]

[Louder]

Who are you?

[Normal volume]

There’s a figure on the path. I can barely see it, it’s mostly in shadow. What I can see is… Dirty hair… Greyish eyes… Oh. It’s gone.

Listeners, I think I just saw the Everwich Ghost. But, why was it so tall? And why would a Ghost’s hair be dirty- Wait.

Generally, those who see the ghost get hurt. Get killed. Oh no-

[Running, twigs snapping, panting]

[Click]

[gambitandrogues]

B, L, X for the fandom ask!!

B - A pairing you initially didn’t consider but someone changed your mind Hmm Cdplayer (legoland) would literally have never ever crossed my mind, but it's super cute!

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves (chars you’re neutral on are fair game, as are chars you dislike) The Darkling is legit a really well-written character, and I think Leigh Bardugo did a great job of creating a truly awful guy (I mean that genuinely - he's a damn good villian)

X - top 5-10 characters who are yoUR PRECIOUS BABIES AND YOU WILL DIE DEFENDING THEM The thing is, some of these guys could probably kill me, so idk if they're precious babies, but you get my point <3

Alina Starkov

Kaz Brekker

Jesper Fahey

Roger Davis

Mimi Marquez

Gansey

Noah Czerny

Karen Sirko

Steven Grant

Charles Xavier

[rolandtowen]

I did not anticipate this fic ending up with Cherik talking about communism in the shower but here we are

[innkeepercore]

charles and raven kicking ass, the last of us au

[severevoiddragon]

06-1 A Week Later

[Click]

[Electronic hum underlies the recording]

[Sounds of outside – the occasional bird and wind]

{Callie}

Hello, this is Callie Hewitt, recording on the 18th October 2021. And, guess what! I’m not actually in my bedroom. I decided to go on a field trip to the graveyard again. I’m here with Charles and Kitty Florence- Well, just Kitty, I guess. Kitty, do you have anything to say for your fans?

[Silence, other than wind]

Brilliant.

[Callie laughs]

Sorry, I think I was going a little stir-crazy being stuck in my room. Sorry I haven’t been posting too, but I have a good reason. I’ve been studying Adam’s journal- Rin lent it to me. And also Char- Nevermind.

It’s currently early evening, and I’m trying to see if I can spot the Everwich Ghost. I’m here with my hot chocolate, lots and lots of layers because it’s absolutely freezing. Oh, I also have a lantern that I found hidden in a spare room at home. So far, I haven’t spotted the Everwich Ghost, but I have seen approximately 3 crows, a shadow about Xavier’s height, and Bert who is the caretaker of this graveyard four times. Thinking about it, the shadow could have been Bert actually.

While I’m waiting, I thought I’d talk about Adam’s journal. There wasn’t much else. It was mostly discoveries, and a lot of information about Everwich Manor I already knew. Turns out Anne was a good friend of Adam’s, and was hoping to be a nurse. I hope she got her wish. It seemed like Adam ended up forgetting about his book, which was… Annoying.

[Twig snap]

What was that? Probably some animal. It’s definitely getting late, I swear it wasn’t this dark when I started recording this. And it’s only been a few minutes. Do I wrap up my search now? No, no I won’t. The ghost could appear at any moment.

[Rustling]

[Silence, other than the wind]

I do have an umbrella, right? I think I have one, at least. Hold on.

[More rustling]

Here we go. Just in case. I mean, I don’t think it’s going to rain, but. You can never be too careful.

Oh, I could talk about the Greenes. Yeah. I never finished with them, did I? How much did I say? See, I’m distantly related to the Greenes, which is how my parents came into possession of this house. There was Cassia Greene, who was the wife of Bartholemew Greene, and sister of Henry Florence.

Wait, I’ve said all this haven’t I?

[Footsteps]

[Rustling]

Who’s there?

{Voice}

You shouldn’t be out this late, miss. I’m just doing my last round. Getting dark now.

{Callie}

Oh, hi Bert. Yeah, I probably should pack up soon. Just a few more minutes?

{Bert}

I trust you miss, but I really think you should be getting home.

{Callie}

Okay, I’ll start packing up now.

[Footsteps retreating]

[Rustling]

[Footsteps underlies the recording]

So, I’m having to finish my watch early. I’ll just finish my story. The Greenes inherited Everwich Manor, and then were killed, mysteriously. Look, here’s their graves. Bartholemew, Cassia, Edward, Mary and William. They disappeared soon after inheriting the manor. But they knew there had already been disappearances. There’s a letter, back at home, from Cassia to her mother, that I don’t remember off the top of my head, but it says something like, ‘Mother, this house has the spirits of my brother and his family. I wish to leave.’ Or something.

Wait.

[Footsteps stop]

[Loudly]

Who’s there? Bert, is that you?

[Silence, other than wind]

[Louder]

Who are you?

[Normal volume]

There’s a figure on the path. I can barely see it, it’s mostly in shadow. What I can see is… Dirty hair… Greyish eyes… Oh. It’s gone.

Listeners, I think I just saw the Everwich Ghost. But, why was it so tall? And why would a Ghost’s hair be dirty- Wait.

Generally, those who see the ghost get hurt. Get killed. Oh no-

[Running, twigs snapping, panting]

[Click]

[thcangriestboy]

"I don't think little of you," David countered. "You're Charles Xavier. I know what that means," He sighed. "To the whole world," In truth, David didn't begrudge his father - or the world - that. He could look outside of himself and know that Charles had done a lot of good for a lot of people.

He'd done it all while David's mother was spiraling and David languished in institutions.

"I think you love me, Char...Dad," He was trying, too. He really was. "I'm just not always convinced you like me."

Charles looked on at David. One thing his son did well was push him away. As hard as he tried to be the father he needed, he could only do so much. There was a wall between them, he knew that much and the more Haller fought them connecting, the worse it got.

How could he show him he was not the monster he was lead to believe? "I do though, David. I really do." He looked on solemnly at him. "It pains me that you think so little of me."

[beginagaininspo]

— SYML, Where's My Love

@x-founded-mind​

[jeaniegreysummers]

@x-founded-mind​

Jean had lost three fathers in a year. Death, despite her best efforts to escape it, followed the people she loved the most even if it never managed to keep her in the ground. John, Erik, Charles – they all took pieces of her when they left, pieces that she never thought would fully piece back together, not even when the second returned. And now, there was a familiar aura pulling when she put on the helmet of Cerebro, a familiar mind that she knew almost as well as her own just on the periphery of her scanning zone.

She wasn’t positive. There was nothing to say for certain. But she was pretty convinced that if she went looking for him, she would find him – and as she walked the streets towards Genosha’s central park, she had an idea where she’d find him. Right there, right where she expected, in front of the statue she had personally asked to be situated right at the front gates. Charles Xavier. Teacher, leader, inspiration. It was a likeness of his younger self, a likeness of …

The man standing in front of her now.

“Is it you?” Jean whispered, voice barely more than the wind moving around them – but they’d never needed words, Jean and Charles. They’d always relied on other forms of communication.