#kurt wagner angst

[vilentia]

How Kurt would react if you get injured in a fight

Kurt Wagner x reader

The moment Kurt sees you get hurt, his heart skips a beat, and his immediate reaction is sheer panic, fearing the worst.

Without hesitation, he teleports directly to your side, his instincts kicking in faster than he can even think.

He gently cradles you in his arms, his usual playful demeanor replaced with serious concern, his voice soft and filled with worry as he calls out your name.

Kurt quickly scans you for injuries, his hands trembling slightly as he checks for signs of serious harm, his eyes wide with fear.

If the fight is still ongoing, Kurt would immediately teleport you to a safer location, away from the danger, prioritizing your safety over everything else.

If your injuries are severe, he would quickly reach out to a healer like Jean or Beast, urging them to come help immediately.

He might start apologizing, feeling guilty for not being able to protect you better, his voice tinged with self-reproach as he holds you close.

As he holds you, Kurt whispers comforting words in German and English, trying to soothe you, promising that you’ll be okay and that help is on the way.

Kurt would silently pray for your recovery, his faith giving him a sliver of hope as he waits for you to regain consciousness.

Despite his best efforts to stay strong, a few tears might escape as he fears losing you, his deep emotional connection to you making the situation almost unbearable.

Once you’re safe and receiving care, Kurt refuses to leave your side, holding your hand and staying with you, his usual cheerful self completely gone as he focuses solely on your recovery.

He would internally blame himself for you getting hurt, replaying the fight in his mind, wondering what he could have done differently to prevent it.

Even when urged to rest or take care of himself, Kurt would be reluctant to leave your side until he’s absolutely sure you’re out of danger.

As you begin to recover, Kurt quietly vows to himself that he’ll never let you get hurt like that again, promising to be more vigilant and protective in the future.

Once you’re awake and recovering, Kurt would be incredibly gentle and attentive, doing everything in his power to make you comfortable, from bringing you food to teleporting to your favorite places to cheer you up.

[0-angelfang-0]

Thinking about queer trans Catholic kurt and how he would look in the mirror, wishing he would stop thinking all these "horrible throughs" about being born a man because God made you the way he wanted why would you go against that ? Just thinking about how he would look at someone of the same gender and long to hold them to feel what true love feels like but again that goes against everything he has ever been taught and kurt loves God just as much as the people he considers family so going against God is like stabing his best friend in the back . Thinking about how long it probably took for him to un learn all that self hatred he has to learn not only how to love himself but to learn how to love life

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ BROKEN FRAGMENTS

ᯓ★ Kurt finds you hurting yourself. Graphic description of cuts and scars/gore (?), SH, comfort, can be read as platonically or intimately. Reader is fem!! (I do not condone to anything in this fic. I just wanted to provide comfort to those who need the love they deserve.)

۫ ꣑ৎ Please reach out to someone if you're going through a tough time. Do not suffer in silence. YOU deserve to feel safe just like many others. Warning, this may be triggering for some so PLS DONT FORCE YOURSELF TO READ IF ITS TOO MUCH

ᯓ★

How you found yourself starting this habit was like a haze. You don't remember it all that well, but the emotions, the overwhelming emotion of guilt and pain always made it feel like it was just yesterday.

You had your reasons to carry out such acts.

But you knew that those reasons weren't an excuse for this.

Deep down you knew it was bad... but if it's bad, why does it make you feel so much better?

Should you feel guilty for wanting to be better?

After all, you never really knew how to express yourself... it always felt like this was the only way for it.

You made your way through the corridors of the mansion. The others had went for a mission so it was just you left behind. Why you weren't chosen to go was unclear but you had a grudge on why.

You tried your hardest to ignore it but you can feel how everybody was beginning to worry about you.

Moments where they'd take short glances of you...

Asking you if you wanted to hangout more...

Even secret talks regarding your wellbeing...

You'd be an idiot if you chose to believe your change of behaviour wasn't taking its effects on the others. You just feel like you've lost the spark you used to have in you. But can they blame you when you no longer have the energy to fight?

You retreated to your room, sitting on your bed to stare at the ground for a good few seconds before letting out a sigh. You searched through your drawers, looking for the exact thing you needed to get your mind off of these thoughts.

You really wanna stop... but it's so hard to...

Your hand just itches each time...

Your mind was a race track where the thoughts won't stop until one finally crashes.

You pulled up the sleeve of your hoodie, collection of scars that went back to weeks ago. Maybe even months. You're not sure and you could care less about it.

One...

Two....

Three....

Four.........

You continued on, the sight of the blood made you feel alive again. It was like you've pulled the curtain aside to reveal what was behind it. Your flesh and blood. Your very proof of existence. To prove you were real and breathing.

However that moment of euphoria soon vanished... you stare, almost blankly at the cuts as the blood continued on dripping out.

Why do you never feel good enough?

When will the time come where this moment will just be a faded memory?

Why—

Suddenly there was a knock on the door but before you could respond, it opened by itself.

"(Y/N) I wanted to—"

The sight left him quiet. Kurt, who's smile was on his face dropped immediately the second he saw what was happening. You stare back, guilt heavy in your gaze as your face turned red.

Oh nononononono....

Whatdoyoudo?run??hide???kickhimout???

Before you can even think of how to act, he was the first to act, he took a few steps inside your room before closing the door shut behind him. He approaches you, carefully, almost like you were a wild animal he didn't wanna scare off because it was clear you felt tensed and afraid of how he may react.

Once he was close enough, he looked at you with a concerned expression on his face. It was visible to see that he was more worried about your wellbeing than anything right now.

"Do you wanna talk?" He knelt down in front of you, his eyes roamed over your body to see just how much harm you’ve done to yourself.

You look at him, afraid to speak. Afraid he may not understand and right away, he understood what you were trying to express in your eyes and he tilts his head with a sympathic smile.

"…I’m not angry at you" He said, a soft and understanding expression on his face as he looked at you.

Just then, Kurt slowly reaches out to you and places his hands over yours, gently prying the blade from your hands. Even though the sight of the blood on your hands worries him, he manages to keep a calm and relaxed demeanor for your sake.

"Shhh. It's okay...it's okay..." He mumbles to you in a soft comforting tone as he sets the blade aside and gently take your bloody hands back in his.

Even though some may get on his. It didn't matter, all that mattered to him, was making you feel okay.

Sensing you didn't have the strength to speak... and seeing the tears forming in your eyes. He caresses the sides of your face to wipe the tears away with his thumb. His touch was gentle and in a way it comforted you.

Your avoiding eyes finally locked with his, just to be met with his warm and soft yellow eyes that made your heart melt. Despite how seeing the slight fear in your own eyes made his heart ache, he manages to give you a soft smile.

"It's going to be okay..." He assured as he held you closely against his chest, gently rubbing your back in a soothing manner. He was slightly surprised at how small your body felt in his arms, but that just made him want to hold you more tightly in his arms and tell you that everything would be alright.

"You're not alone... I'm here for you. I promise..." He softly placed his hand on the back of your head and gently stroked your hair.

His words and how he was treating you made you feel seen.

Cared for.

Loved.

"I'm sorry" You tried to stop your tears but you were unable to hold everything in anymore. At the same time, the burn of the cut made your skin itch.

"Shhh... it's okay" He muttered, holding you tighter to have you cry on his chest.

"You don't have to apologize... Shhh... it's going to be alright..." He continued on stroking your hair comfortingly while he rest his head on top of yours.

Kurt hold you closely to his chest, his arms wrapped around you as you cried like your lungs were burning. His cheek was now rested against the top of your head and how he carried on to make gentle hushing noises in an attempt to soothe you made you feel appeased.

"You're safe... you're safe... I promise you’re safe with me" He said.

The room was quiet as you two remained in each other's arms. No amount of words could express how belonged you felt in his embrace. Even though your face was a mess of tears and snot, he didn't care if it was getting all over his shirt because none of that mess is equal to the situation you're in right now.

By the time you have calmed down, he felt it was the okay time to treat your scars now. Being as gentle as he could, he lifted your head so he could look at your self-inflicted wounds, his expression showing his concern but not a trace of judgement.

"Let me help you" He said softly, his voice just as gentle as his touch.

You watched when he got up to get a band aid kit from your closet. Then returning back on the bed, the mattress sinking back down from his weight. Kurt grabbed a piece of clean towel and you couldn't help but find the sight of him dapping it gently on your cuts with such focus touching.

After applying a thin layer of antibiotics, he took a roll of sterile gauze from inside the first-aid kit and gently wrapped the gauze around your hands and arms to help stop the bleeding and prevent further scarring if possible. His touch was firm but tender, his fingers carefully wrapping the gauze around your wounds.

Once he had finished bandaging your hands and arms, he gently cupped your face in his hands and looked at you with care in his eyes.

"Are you feeling better now?" He asked and you hesitated... then nodded.

Seeing you nod made him feel a bit relieved, but he could still sense that you were feeling vulnerable and fearful. He looks at you with a glint of hope.

"You don't have to tell me everything now... let's take it slowly... hm?" He said and you nodded again, a grateful smile on your face.

"Mein hübsches mädchen" He leaned in, resting his forehead on yours as he closes his eyes.

"Lieber Gott, bitte schütze dieses Mädchen vor allem Bösen und Schaden. Helft ihr, sich zu erholen und zu heilen. Schenke ihr Frieden und Trost in dieser schwierigen Zeit" He uttered, a prayer you assumed, his voice was small and hushed that it was comforting listening to him.

When he finally opened his eyes, he smiles at you, his fangs becoming noticeable as well.

"What do you say we raid the kitchen? Hm?" He asked and with that playful look on his face. It was hard to say no.

"Yeah..." You answered and he gave you one last squeeze of a hug.

"I know you're hurt and scared, mein liebling. But I promise I'll always be here for you. Together we can get through anything" He said, his words being enough to make you feel better now.

"Thank you"

Deep down you knew your habits would still haunt you but at least now you felt there was somebody there for you, to help and care for you.

Healing itself has no end but is a lifelong journey.

A journey Kurt is willing to go on with you.

[satanica-rat]

Breakdown drawing!!╰(*°▽°*)╯

[bamfaholic]

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

[ladyyellow-thegremlin]

Scene from “Weapon by Name” by CNWrites on Ao3, the fan-fiction that currently has me in a death grip

[cera-writes]

Nightcrawler with an SO who can split herself into different emotions with each emotion having a different power. Maybe the emotions are running rampant and causing mischief and Kurt is the only person who can wrangle them in.

Emotional Rampage

A/N: this was a cute request! Sorry it took me a while to get it written for you <3

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x reader

Tags: reader-insert, fluff, angst, emotional turmoil, inner demons, pet names, established relationship, endearments

Nightcrawler materialized in a kitchen bathed in the dimly dark sheen of Fear's shadow manipulation. Dishes clattered as Sullen slammed a cabinet door shut. Overhead, Joy buzzed like a rogue wasp, leaving a sonic trail.

This was Tuesday.

"Alright, alright," Kurt held his hands up, teleporting a plate out of Sullen's path. "Let's calm down, everyone. Was ist los?

Fear flickered, casting distorted shadows of Kurt's normally cheerful grin. "Something's wrong, Kurt. I don't like it."

Joy, a blur of pink energy, zipped around the room. "But we don't know what it is! That's the problem!"

Sullen, radiating a low rumble of disapproval, crossed their arms. "We need to find it. Now."

Kurt sighed. "Ich verstehe, but causing a scene won't help. Tell me what's bothering you."

Silence. Fear dimmed, then flickered again. "It's… a feeling. Something dark approaching."

Joy buzzed impatiently. "Exactly! But without knowing what 'it' is, we can't stop it!"

Kurt, ever the mediator, took a deep breath. "Alright. How about this? We work together. Fear, show me what you sense. Joy, scout ahead with your speed. Und Sullen, if we need to throw down, you've got my back, right?"

Hesitation, then a grudging nod from each fragment. Fear pulsed, sending tendrils of shadow that snaked out the window, pointing towards the city's abandoned amusement park. Joy zipped out with a whoosh, leaving a faint pink afterimage. And Sullen, with a grunt, followed Kurt as he bamfed them out of the chaos.

Standing on the creaky Ferris wheel platform, fear tingled on Kurt's skin. Fear's shadows pointed towards a dark, swirling vortex at the center of the park. It pulsed with a malevolent energy.

Joy reported back, a worried frown etched on their normally carefree face. "Kurt, it's like… a negative-me. It feeds on fear."

Suddenly, a shadowy figure materialized, a twisted reflection of Kurt, complete with pointed ears and a barbed tail. "Ah, Nightcrawler. And your precious little emotions. This will be fun."

A fight ensued. Sullen's strength met the dark doppelganger's blows head-on. Joy zipped around, creating sonic disruptions that momentarily weakened the creature. But it was Kurt, teleporting in surprise attacks while Fear channeled courage into him, who finally managed to land a decisive bamf, sending the negative entity back into the vortex.

With the threat neutralized, the fragments drifted back towards you, their forms merging. You sighed, exhaustion clinging to you like a second skin. "Thanks, guys," you whispered, a soft smile gracing your lips.

Kurt pulled you close. "Anytime, Liebchen. Though, maybe next time we could save the demolition for the bad guys?"

A tired giggle escaped you. "Promise." Leaning into his warmth, you watched the city lights twinkle back to life.

Later, curled up on the couch with mugs of hot cocoa, Kurt hesitantly brought up your emotional outburst. "Liebling," he began, his voice laced with concern, "ist alles in Ordnung? These episodes seem to be happening more often."

You snuggled closer, appreciating the gentle way he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. "I don't know, Kurt. It's like… a tangled mess in here sometimes. All these emotions, and I can't always control them."

Kurt squeezed your hand. "But that's what I love about you, Schatz. You wear your heart on your sleeve, in all its beautiful, chaotic glory. And I'll always be here to help you sort through the mess, together."

His words, laced with his endearing native tongue, warmed you more than the cocoa ever could. You realized that even the most complex emotions couldn't dampen the love you shared, a love that thrived on understanding and a whole lot of patience. With a contented sigh, you leaned your head on his shoulder, the tramclings of the evening forgotten. In Kurt's arms, you knew you had a safe haven, a sanctuary where even your most turbulent emotions could find peace.

[y0urm0mst0es]

Don't Leave

Kurt Wagner x fem!reader

Summary: You and Kurt love each other very much. What will happen when one of you dies?

Or

Kurt holds you in his arms while you die

TW: death, blood

Notes: for @wolfdiva3002 😋👍might not be canon compliant but I hope you like it

You and Kurt had been together for a couple years now. Since you live at the institute and he lives in Genosha, the two of you decided to visit one another for a couple days or weeks at a time.

This time, it was you visiting him. Genosha was throwing a banquet, and you and a few other X-Men were invited. During the party, he had taken you to the side to talk. You hadn’t thought anything about it strange until you heard his question.

“Y/N, I love you, more than anything. And, I would love to spend the rest of my life with you. So,” he pulled a ring from his pocket. “Will you marry me? I know this is kind of sudden but-” his sentence was cut short by you pulling him in for a kiss. 

“Oh my God, Kurt. Of course I’ll marry you,” you said, smiling brightly. He gently took your left hand and slid the ring onto your finger. You held your hand up, admiring the ring.

As you were about to speak again, a loud crash interrupted you. You and Kurt turned your heads in the direction of the noise. It was a sentinel attack. 

~*~

Smoke was the only thing that could be seen. The sentinels brutal attack on Genosha left miles of destruction. So many mutants dead or injured. Kurt was hurt, but the only thing on his mind was you. 

Kurt hadn’t seen you since you guys split up to fight and protect the Genosha citizens. Worry filled his mind as he wondered where you were. Had something happened? Kurt knew you were powerful and capable of handling yourself but he couldn’t help but think the worst had happened. 

“Kurt, get over here quick!” Rogue called. Almost immediately, Kurt teleported to Rogues side.

“What is it? Are you hurt?” he asked, concern laced in his voice. Kurt followed Rogues eyes to see where she was looking. Then he saw you. Your limp body was buried by fallen rocks and dirt. “Oh mein Gott..”

He rushed to your side, brushing the debris off your body and cradling your body in his arms. “Y/N, please wake up. Open your eyes,” Kurt whispered, moving strands of hair from your face. Groaning, you opened your eyes to look at him.

“Kurt, why do you look so sad?” you asked, bringing your hand to brush his cheek. He leaned into your touch, tears running down his face.

“You’re hurt, my love. Really bad,” he pressed his hand to your wound, trying to stop the bleeding, then looked at Rogue. “Did you see what happened?”

Rogue sighed and looked down. “She took a bad hit from the sentinel Gambit was fighting. She managed to get him out of the way but couldn’t move fast enough to avoid the shot. I’m so sorry, Kurt.”

Kurt looked back at you with a sorrowful expression. “How are you feeling, Y/N? Are you in pain?” he continued to hold you gently in his arms, wanting to make you as comfortable as possible. “Rogue, could you find a healer please?”

“Kurt, I don’t think-”

“Please, just-” his voice caught in his throat, unable to say another word. He buried his face in your chest, silently crying. Rogue understood that he wanted to be alone with you so she went to find a medic.

“Kurt, please don’t cry. You know I hate seeing you upset,” you said, your hand resting on the back of his head. 

“I can’t lose you, Y/N. Please don’t leave me.” Tears started to form in the corners of your eyes.

“I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t like this. I really wanted to marry you and spend the rest of our lives together.” You let out a choked sob, tears spilling from your eyes.

“I love you so much,” Kurt said, looking back to you and holding your hand. You squeezed it lightly. 

“I love you too.” He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. With the last bit of strength you had, you kissed him back. Kurt leaned back, looking at your resting face. You were gone.

[a-roguish-gambit]

Angsty thought for a turn of the century au plotline cause I have ADHD and can't stick to one at a time and love evil circus tropes

Kurt at some point gets lured into circus life via Mesmero because he doesn't feel like he belongs anywhere with how extreme his outward mutation is. None of the other kids understand fully as they can at least go out with little alterations to their appearance, even ones as debilitating as Scott and Rogue's can at least be out in public without someone freaking out.

A circus full of mutants comes to town though all the wild physical mutations are billed as special effects and costumes but Kurt knows better and can tell. He tries to join them, the people all seemingly so friendly and accepting and the ringmaster also being a mutant only for it to be Mesmero, who it turns out is brainwashing all the performers into never leaving, convincing them that this is the only place they can be loved, then using them to steal stuff for him at night.

The x men have no idea what's going on and they have to hear from Fred, a former carnie himself, that Mesmero is bad news and has a reputation among freak show performers of being controlling, abusive, and just scary. No one who joins his circus ever leaves or retires. They one day have a fatal accident, end up arrested for a terrible crime they vehemently deny and are locked away forever, or disappear and are never heard from again.

The x men end up having to save Kurt, who has quickly become the man's star and most prizes asset, from Mesmero by breaking the mind control and getting him out of there, along with many of the other mutants he was holding captive.

God I want to do some creepy art nouveau piece based on this now with Kurt in a circus advert....

Like one of these

[oll13v3r]

nightcrawler magma art

I was drawing over a base with my friend and this is what I came up with. I was doing this base, which immediately made me think of nightcrawler:

I did some touchups on Ibis paint, but it was just fun to get to do a drawing that's not too serious

[artsy0wl]

Don’t You Ever Think You Are a Burden (Logurt/WolverinexNightcrawler)

So I thought I’d share a few of my X-Men AO3 fics on here. Some gen fics, some ship fic. All X-Men that are usually Kurt focused.

This one is a Logurt (LoganxKurt Wagner, WoverinexNightcrawler) where one near drowning causes Logan to contemplate his feelings for Kurt and why this instance pulled at his heartstrings more.

A harsh, water filled cough escaped Kurt as he gagged out water. Rolling onto his hands and knees, he continued to hack away in an attempt to empty out his lungs. Breathes took several deep inhales in an attempt to calm down as Kurt's body strained and shook. Fear, panic, and confusion made a mess of Kurt's brain, refusing to let him process what happened.

A strong hand gently sat on his back running around in circles to comfort him. It gave Kurt something to focus on. Even if it was just barely. Kurt leaned into the contact, feeling a bit more at ease. Unfortunately, not for long.

Kurt's body gave out, too stressed by the abrupt awakening. He could feel himself being rolled around onto his back as yellow eyes started getting foggy. The last thing Kurt would remember before losing consciousness was being lifted up bridal style as Logan looked at him with anxious blue eyes. And though his hearing was muffled, he could have sworn that he heard Logan telling him that everything was going to be okay.

~

Logan refused to leave Kurt's side. He was instantly brought to the med bay for observation. And though he was expected to make a speedy recovery, Kurt was bedbound until further notice. He needed the rest. Having nearly drowned thanks to his foot getting tangled in seaweed while saving a young scuba diver, getting oxygen and rest was the best medicine.

Listening to the small beeps of Kurt's machinery, Logan watched as Kurt breathed. Cold hands firmly held onto a three digited hand, periodically feeling veins thumping along to Kurt's heart rhythm.

"You don't have to be attached to his hip." Hank noted. "He's going to be okay."

Silence was all the medically proficient mutant got as Logan's hold tightened. Scanning the Canadian, Hank noted the dark circles starting to form under Logan's eyes. And from what he recalled, he hadn't seen Logan eat much since they got back.

"You need sleep." Hank advised. "He's not going anywhere."

"He nearly drowned Hank." Logan coldly reminded.

"I know."

"He could have died."

"But he didn't. And let's not forget, he saved that young boy's life."

Logan said nothing. Not because he thought that Hank was wrong, or that saving the scuba diver should have died, but because of the man in front of them. An aching feeling sank Logan's heart and a dark cloud fogged his mind.

"At least try to eat." Hank advised, noting that he wasn't going to change the man's mind anytime soon as he excused himself.

In the silent wake of Hank's exit, Logan felt lost. He always worried about Kurt. As his friend, and knowing what the blue mutant had gone through, Logan always looked out for him. People could be cruel, yet Logan never wanted him to hide his true self. He knew Kurt had troubles with family, but wanted him to know that he didn't need blood to have it when he had the X-Men. As his friend, Logan wanted what was best for him and couldn't help but worry about the external forces out to get him.

But now, Logan's worries felt like more than just friendly concerns. It fell deeper now. Watching Kurt dive down and not resurface for several minutes after the Scuba diver did brought out the worse case of panic in Logan. And seeing him almost frozen in place like a corpse on ice scared Logan.

Kurt was strong. Heroic to a fault. Logan never wanted to strip Kurt of that, but seeing him almost die was horrifying. It didn't just terrify him that he almost lost a friend. It felt like a part of his heart was almost ripped out of his chest, and he couldn't quite grasp why. Locking onto Kurt, one of Logan's hands brushed through blackish indigo hair. It caused an unconscious reaction as Kurt's face melted into the hand, causing Logan's heart to skip a beat.

Logan's mind fell onto one question: Out of all the times he had seen Kurt hurt, why was he feeling so strange about it now?

~

Kurt was released two days after his hospitalization. As such, he was allowed to freely roam the halls of the school. Provided he took it easy for a few more days.

The only problem was Logan. The once bedside latched Canadian had all but disappeared. It felt odd. Sure, Logan was distant with most people on most days, but he alway liked to check in with Kurt. Maybe go to the bar, which Kurt hs presently been barred from while he recuperates, or train in the danger room.

The distance had gotten so apparent that Kurt could have swore he was avoiding him. One of the few times Kurt spotted him, he noted Logan distancing himself from the fuzzy blue mutant. It made Kurt wonder if he had done something wrong.

~

He knew he shouldn’t be avoiding Kurt, but he felt like he had to in order to collect himself. He wanted to know why he was feeling so peculiar towards the elf. He needed time to process it and try to find out what he was feeling.

But now, his guilt for abandoning Kurt was high, and he knew he shouldn’t avoid him any longer. As he travelled down the halls, Logan caught a glimpse of a conversation. Upon further observation, it was Kurt and Kitty. Logan stood by the wall’s edge, not wanting to interrupt the conversation.

”What was it like?” Kitty inquired. “Was it like in the movies where air bubbles are all over the place and your panicking?”

”Sort of.” Kurt awkwardly confirmed. “I was certainly panicking, but I don’t think there were that many air bubbles.”

”Why didn’t you teleport?” Her question was a reasonable one. “Surely that would have saved you.”

There was a stagnant pause. Logan was curious as well. Surely Kurt would have ‘ported to safety.

“I was in such a panic that I couldn’t focus on it. My leg was caught and that’s all I could think about. I was already losing oxygen, so even if I did teleport, I could have risked uncertain amounts of damage.”

His reasoning also made sense. If someone is in a panic, the mind may become burry and scared.

”You know, Logan was relly worried about you.” Kitty stated. “He didn’t leave your side once during your stay in the medical bay.”

Another stagnant pause. Though he wasn’t looking directly at the duo, Logan could sense a subtle change in the air. Limbs shifted, crossing as one hand covered Kurt’s mouth. His eyes seemed thankful, but the were sad.

”That’s why he’s avoiding me, isn’t it?” Kurt sighed. “I must have been such a burden to him that he cant stand to be near me.”

Logan swore he heard a saddened sigh escape Kurt. Guilt sank into the Canadian like hot coal on ice. He knew his avoidance might not have been wise, but he didn’t want Kurt thinking he was a burden.

”No.” Kitty gasped. “He’s your friend.”

“Then why does he run from me?” Kurt asked, letting out a whimper.

There was no time to react before Kurt found himself thrown over a shoulder. And it wasn’t until he felt movement that he realized who grabbed him. Logan shot Kitty a glance confirming that he had this handled, to which she nodded, a little concerned, but understood that he needed to talk to Kurt.

~

Kurt was tossed on the bed unceremoniously as Logan shut the door. The blue mutant flopped around for a moment before sitting up. Once he did, Logan was leaning over him, hands clamping to the sides of his face.

”Logan, what are you doing?” Kurt shakily asked, not knowing if he should be afraid or not.

There was no time to get an answer before warm, smoke scented lips collided with Kurt’s. Golden eyes widened in shock and a deep purple tint heated Kurt’s cheeks. Nothing and no one moved, as passion absorbed the duo.

Upon release, Kurt took a deep breathe. His once alarmed expression now one of unexpected awe. Golden eyes locked with blue ones as callous hands continued to hold onto Kurt’s face.

”Don’t you ever think you’re a burden, Elf.” Logan requested. “You never were one, and I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.” A softer kiss landed on Kurt’s forehead. “I was just so scared after you nearly drowned. More so than I have ever been since the day we met. You’re strong, saintly, and smart, but when I saw you limp, it felt like I was hit by a train. I was so confused and worried, and I didn’t know why.” Hands moved to Kurt’s shoulders, pulling him into a hug. “I love you Kurt Wagner. I love you, you fuzzy elf.”

Speechless, Kurt processed everything Logan just told him. It was a relief to know that he wasn’t a burden to Logan, but he hadn’t expected the confession. It certainly put things into perspective for Kurt. Not only that, but it got him to realize something himself. In all of the years that they knew each other, Kurt would be lying if he said he wasn’t fond of Logan. Fondness that, as of late, felt less platonic, and more affectionate. Shuffling back slightly, he looked at Logan.

”I love you too, you oversized teddy bear.” Kurt replied.

This time, it was Logan who was speechless, giving Kurt just enough time to steal a soft kiss of his own. When Logan relaxed, he returned it with a subtle amount of passion. Breaking apart felt lonesome, but both needed to breathe. Logan finally got himself situated, sitting next to Kurt.

“It feels nice.” Logan mused, holding Kurt’s hand. “Knowing what I’m feeling and that it’s mutual. I’d never want you to force you.”

”I know.” Kurt figured, resting his head on Logan’s shoulder. “And you’re not. We’ve always been the odd couple. In friendship and now in romance. Not that I’m complaining. It’s… nice.”

Though putting it mildly, nice summed it up perfectly. That said, without uttering a word, they both knew it would take time to get used to this new chapter in their story, and they knew it wasn’t going to be all sunshine and rainbows. However, neither regret it in this moment, and both knew this was only the beginning.

[privartidahos]

freak show 🎠

[martianbugsbunny]

Guilt (It's Gonna Last Forever)—A Scogan Fic

*sashays in wearing yellow spandex and blue sparkles* haha remember in that other fic when Logan was mortally dreading the idea of accidentally stabbing Scott in his sleep? well I just can't leave well enough alone so I made a fic out of that. You can view it as a sequel or you can read it as a standalone, it's good either way. It also does not have a conclusive ending, so you have to either let Scott die or be saved in your own brain (unless I do a sequel at some point).

Read on and enjoy!

Logan ran down the concrete hall, barefoot, barely feeling the cold against the absolute agony and rage that bubbled up from his marrow and strained against the brand-new adamantium coverings of his bones, nowhere to go to escape—and he wasn’t sure he wanted it to. No, Logan held that rage in his core, letting it burn him up from the inside because he knew the only people it could hurt were outside of his body.

When his claws extended from between his fingers at the first sound of approaching footsteps, Logan was caught off guard by their new silvery sheen. The things protruding from his body weren’t his.

Terror began to climb up the scaffolding of anger. The fingers of one hand scrabbled at the back of the other, as though Logan could rip the claws out and start over with the bone that did belong to him, shaking.

And then he caught…the scent of blood.

He hadn’t hurt anyone yet.

“Logan!”

He woke to a voice crying his name, sounding strangled and stunned and…betrayed.

Oh, no.

Logan pulled his claws out of Scott’s gut, instantly drawing them back into his hands, a fear worse than the remembered terror of his dream crawling up his throat. The damage had already been done; the soft flesh of Scott’s stomach had dissected easily beneath sharpened adamantium, and blood was beginning a slow ooze from the six distinctive wounds.

Scott clutched at Logan’s forearms, his breathing coming in harsh, shallow bursts as he began to comprehend exactly what had happened to him. No, not what had happened—what Logan had done.

“I’m so sorry.” The words weren’t enough; Logan knew they weren’t enough. His voice was cracked. The smell of Scott’s blood was seeping into Logan’s brain, and his blood smelled exactly like any other blood. For some reason that seemed unfair. He meant more to Logan than anyone alive; surely he should be able to sense some tiny difference—but no, it was just hot and red and full of iron, thick and sluggish as it seeped from Scott’s body and pulled his life away with it.

“Scott, you have to hold on,” he said urgently, shaking Scott a little. “Don’t let go of me.”

His response was weak. His grip on Logan’s arms had been going slack, but he tightened his fingertips just a bit, trying pathetically to dig into the skin and follow Logan’s command.

“Somebody help!” Logan yelled, his mind beginning to flick back to the last time he’d been responsible for something like this. Then, he’d hurt a person who could steal his healing powers for herself; now, he’d hurt a person who was utterly incapable of helping himself to heal. “Damnit, I need help!”

The seconds seemed to tick by as moments. Logan felt Scott’s fingers start to shake, his palms turning clammy, sweat pooling between his skin and Logan’s, but he didn’t let go. Logan clutched Scott close, as though by pressing their bodies together he could staunch the blood or force it back into Scott’s veins.

Finally (how long had it been? minutes? an hour? it was too dark and everything was too much to tell) the door burst open and Storm dashed in, stopping just over the threshold when she saw what was going on. Moments later, in a cloud of dark smoke, Kurt appeared beside her, his yellow eyes full of a compassion Logan didn’t feel he deserved.

Then Kurt’s arms were around Scott, and they both disappeared, leaving Logan sitting there helpless on the bed with his tank top bloodstained and his heart pounding so hard his chest hurt, tears stinging his eyes.

“I didn’t know,” he said, half to Storm and half to himself. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

[obsessedwrhys]

MARVEL (MOSTLY X-MEN)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Symbols

fluff = 🦋 , angst = 🪐 , smut = 🍒 , goofy = 🎧

Headcanons:

Being in a polyamory relationship with Deadpool and Wolverine 🎧🦋

Stories:

BROKEN FRAGMENTS (Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler x F!Reader) Kurt finds you hurting yourself 🦋🪐

Series:

-None yet-

[shadowphoenixrider]

Sins of the Present

(A visit from an old friend puts things into perspective for Gambit and his relationship with Shadow. But time might be running out... Brace yourselves, we will be entering angst country; this is but the short taster. And also an excuse for me to steal that scene in X-Men 97 near wholesale and paste it here. Enjoy!)

"An' what brings de Nightcrawler 'round to our next of de woods?" Gambit grinned, raising an eyebrow as he settled an arm over the short furry mutant's shoulders.

Said mutant offered the Cajun a toothy smile, a playful spark to his golden eyes. His arrow-headed tail slowly wagged back and forth like a lazy metronome.

"Can a person not drop in to see their friends when they're in the area, Gambit?" Nightcrawler asked, arching his own brow. "Especially to see the sister he didn't know he had."

"Sure," Rogue smiled, "but I think the question Remy's askin' is why ya happen to be 'round here. It's a long way from the Alps."

"Ah! Well, after the monastery was damaged, I have been taking the opportunity to explore new horizons, and use my gifts to help where I can." He explained. "It just so happens my travels brought me here."

"How's that been goin'?" Rogue asked, trepidation echoing through her words.

"It has been a...mixed experience." Nightcrawler admitted. "It can be difficult for others to see past my appearance. I have had to resort to helping many from the shadows."

Movement at the corner of Gambit's eye drew his attention up to the landing above, and to the young woman lingering at the top of the stairs, peering down at the activity below. Speaking of shadows... A grin stretched across his lips, and he took the opportunity to stride away from the conversation.

"Shadow, it's good to see ya!" He called up to her. "C'mon down, we got a friend visitin'."

She hesitated a moment, before venturing down the stairs to join them, smiling shyly.

"Hi..."

Nightcrawler's eyes brightened with curiosity.

"Ah, a new face! And who might you be, Fraulein?" he asked, holding his hand out to her.

"My name's Shadow." She replied, taking his hand easily to shake it. "I'm kinda the newest member here. Sort of."

"Picked her up afta a scuffle with the Friends of Humanity." Rogue added, smiling. "An' like stray cat afta a meal, she's stuck around."

"I'm kinda the resident healer." Shadow said. "I can talk to and control cells to help regenerate wounds and suchlike."

"A very noble and selfless use of your powers. My name is Kurt Wagner, although others know me as Nightcrawler," he said, his German accent soft around his words. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Shadow." He raised her hand to kiss it, Shadow flushing bright red.

White hot jealousy suddenly flashed through Gambit, startling him. Where had that come from? Why should he be jealous of Kurt; this was just his way with women, nothing meant about it. And Shadow was always shy whenever people were forward to her like that - it didn't mean anything.

Not that Shadow was even his. Not really. They were just friends. Friends who fooled around with each other. A friend he was in love with.

He cursed internally - this had happened with Rogue too. Not that her old boyfriend Cody's reappearance hadn't been suspicious on its own (and he'd been right to suspect him), but Gambit wasn't stupid - he'd felt the same jealous flames lick under his skin at that time. The very same for Archangel too.

The jealous streak he possessed wasn't a new phenomenon, and it was one he could keep under control most times. Indeed, he'd felt nothing but warm pride in how close Shadow was with her other friends (and perhaps a little yearning too). Her hugging Ebak, Ber, Myst and Lemming barely sparked anything in him.

Yet the memories of the club kept flickering back into his mind's eye. Of Tom, furious at him for just showing concern for Shadow. Getting so angry he tried to glass them. Shadow's tears against his back as he drove them home.

For all Rogue's words that he was nothing like Tom, he sure was following the same beats.

"Sugah?" Her voice broke him from his thoughts. She cocked her head, raising an eyebrow. "Ya alright? You look a thousand miles away."

Shadow was also watching him with concern, beautiful blue eyes wide and alert, ready to help as always.

I don't deserve her.

"I uh, Gambit jus' remembered he need to check somethin' in de kitchen," he said, taking a step back. "Might be a while. Don' wait up."

"Alright, mein freund." Kurt replied, smiling. "I hope I will see you shortly?"

"Sure will!" Gambit said, already taking his leave in quick strides. "See ya 'round!"

Merde.

---

Gambit didn't know what kind of climbing plant had been allowed to scale the south side of the X-Mansion in such thick abundance, but he thanked the fact it existed and kept its leaves during the autumn months. It made perfect cover for him to watch the comedy of errors unfolding down below.

For reasons only known to them, a family of ducks had decided to make the swimming pool their new home, which was less than ideal for all involved. So Shadow had taken it upon herself to herd the family out least away from the pool, and hopefully towards the lake, which would be a much better fit.

It turned out that in a contest between a five foot three mutant and collection of ducks, the ducks were winning. No matter how wide Shadow spread her arms, how much she tried to anticipate their dodges, the ducks refused to leave the water, often managing to just lead her in circles.

Yes, he really should have been a gentleman and helped her, but it was a lot more amusing to watch, and listen to Shadow try in vain to verbally convince them to follow her lead, as well as scold them when they avoided her.

It was a very charming trait of hers; she would talk to anything, including herself, and numerous times Gambit had walked in on Shadow scolding an appliance that wasn't working, or gently reassuring that one washer dryer that always violently shuddered to the point verging on death that it could do it, just keep going. She was like that with animals too, talking gently to the wasps she would shoo out the windows, the pigeons that bumbled near her feet; even the spiders she was frightened of would get her talking semi-kindly, warning them to stay away as she didn't want to hurt them in her terror.

That was who Shadow was, really. Kind. There was a softness to her that Gambit once believed could only exist in the naive, those who hadn't seen the ugly underbelly of people. Yet Shadow was no innocent; she might not have physical scars, but she carried mental, emotional ones - she knew the depths of cruelty. Instead of closing herself down and away from it, though, she had dared to stay open. Dared herself to keep caring.

She was a healer in power and soul.

Gambit sighed softly, the breath wisping out of his nose.

She was far too good and kind than he deserved. She deserved better.

A whiff of sulphur on the wind was the only warning Gambit got before a voice in his ear whispered:

"For a man named 'Gambit', your poker face is very poor."

"Merde!" He swore, only just managing to keep his purchase on the roof. He shot a murderous glare at the blue elf that had appeared over his shoulder, grinning unrepentantly. "How about ya mind ya beeswax, furball!" He turned his gaze back to Shadow below. It seemed like Rogue had taken pity on her, and had come to assist. "Didn't go ringin' for no priest."

"Perhaps not." Kurt replied softly. "But I have eyes, Gambit. I can see that Shadow means a lot to you." He tilted his head, tail waving back and forth. "Which begs the question: why are you up here, watching her from afar, rather than helping?"

"Looks like she and Rogue have it under control." He replied. Indeed, things were going much better with two instead of one, especially when that person could fly. "'Sides. Can appreciate de view from here."

Kurt said nothing for a moment, and Gambit hoped he'd dropped the subject. No such luck.

"She spoke highly of you, know."

Gambit's gaze immediately whipped back to him.

"She did?" He blinked, realizing his mistake when Kurt grinned. "I-I mean, of course she did. I did save her from that fils de puntain, after all."

"Ja, but it was more than that, Remy." Kurt said, moving closer. "She speaks of your prowess and your kindness in taking care of her as she got used to living here. But I can see and hear between the lines. Shadow lights up talking about you. Admiration paints her words. She blushes when you ask about you and her. She cares for you, mein freund."

His golden eyes bored into Gambit's black and red. "Indeed, it would not surprise me if she loves you."

Gambit's shoulders jerked as if he'd been shot, and he immediately crushed the emotion that threatened to leak out. He looked away, letting out a rueful laugh.

"Hah! I doubt dat." He puffed his chest out. "Scoundrels like me? We too busy for love. Too busy sinnin'." Even to his ears, his bravado couldn't hide the bitter taste on his tongue.

"There is no love without sin." Kurt spoke, calmly. "Love is best measured in what we forgive."

Gambit's gaze fell back down to pool below. The ducks had now been successfully herded away, Shadow thanking Rogue before giving her a careful hug, making sure their thick hair shielded their skin from touching.

Hope, small and feeble, bloomed in his heart.

"You really think she might love me?" He asked quietly.

"Only she could answer that." Kurt replied, equally quiet. "But, if it reassures you...Yes. I think she might."

Gambit swallowed hard, his heart starting to beat a fast tattoo under his breast. Could she, maybe...?

The two women parted from each other, saying something to one another, before Rogue began to walk away, back towards the mansion. Shadow lingered for a moment, her gaze out towards the grounds beyond.

"Go to her, Remy." Kurt urged. Gambit nodded, glancing back to his friend.

"Thank you," he said. The Nightcrawler gave him a smile, before 'bamf'ing away in a puff of dark purple smoke.

Gambit took a steeling breath, before he carefully scaled down the wall, jumping down as soon as he could. The sound of his landing drew Shadow's attention, and she turned towards him, eyes wide with surprise.

"Where did you come from?" She asked, a humourous lilt to her voice.

"Always from where ya least expect, mon amie." He replied, grinning. Nerves hummed through him like his powers, except they were also causing butterflies to swarm madly in his stomach. "Whatcha doin' out here?"

"Some ducks mistook the pool for the lake." Shadow explained. "I tried to get them to see reason, but apparently it was falling on deaf ears, least 'til Rogue arrived and helped me convince them otherwise."

"Good to hear." Gambit nodded, his heart pounding hard, only half-listening as he tried to piece his words together. He was going to say it this time, he really was. "Hey, Shadow, I been meaning to talk to ya 'bout somethin'. Somethin' important."

"Oh?" She blinked up at him, eyes wide with her full attention. "What about?"

Gambit took a breath, wetting his lips.

"Well, ya see, I-"

"Guys!" Scott's voice interrupted them, the urgency in his tone making them look towards where he was standing in the doorway. "I think you need to come and see this, ASAP."

Gambit almost wanted to scream bloody murder, but something about the look on Scott's face managed to contain his anger. He and Shadow glanced at each other, before following him into the main room, where the TV was on, centring on a news report from the government. All the other X-Men were there, including Professor Xavier, whose expression was grave.

"What's goin' on?" Gambit asked.

"Henry Gyrich is attempting to use his governmental contacts to push through anti-mutant legislation." Xavier explained, his eyes fixed on the screen. "It is known as the Mutant Containment Bill."

"Dat don't sound good." Gambit murmured.

"That's another word for internment camps, isn't it?" Shadow said quietly. "Like they did with Japanese citizens during the Second World War."

"The very same." Beast nodded. "I have noticed that the rhetoric used to justify those is similar if not exactly the same as what Gyrich is using now."

A chill crept over Gambit's skin, especially when he glanced to Shadow, who now hugging herself tightly. He'd had a taste of internment and the slavery linked to it, and didn't want to experience that again. And certainly not have any of his other friends experience it too - it had torn him up to see Jubilee, all but a child, in a suppression collar and forced to labour, and Storm to be imprisoned in her worst nightmare.

To watch it happen to Shadow?

Bile churned in his stomach.

"I will need to fight this legislation with everything I have." Xavier was saying. "I will require a team to go with me to these debates. They will be long and arduous, especially against an opponent as consumed by his hatred as Gyrich is." The Professor turned to the group. "But I must. The freedom of all mutants is resting on me. This bill must be defeated."

A chorus of nods from the assembled group. "Cyclops, I trust you can assemble a team?"

"Of course, Professor." He nodded. "I'll let you know shortly."

"Thank you. If you'll please excuse me, I need to prepare myself." And with that, Xavier left the room. The others split off as well, muttering anxiously among themselves.

"Shit." Shadow breathed, running a hand through her hair. "I...I think I need to call my parents. A-And my friends."

"Go do it, petite." Gambit rested a hand on her back. "Jus' in case this don't work out."

Shadow made to step away, before she hesitated.

"Wait. Wasn't there something you wanted to tell me, Remy?" She asked, looking up at him.

Gambit winced, smiling weakly. It not longer felt like the right time.

"No, chère," he said, gently pushing her back. "Go speak to ya folks. It nothing dat can't wait a little longer. 'Til all dis be over."

She looked up at him uncertainly, before nodding, walking off to find the mansion's phone.

Gambit would soon come to regret those words.

[excelsiorfics]

And I believe that yeah, dad, maybe no one is perfect. But I believe that you are pushing your luck.

Date: March 7, 2023 Author: thequiver Rating: Teen Word Count/Status: 10,079, complete Dynamic: David Haller & Pietro Maximoff, David Haller & Kurt Wagner, Lorna Dane & Kevin MacTaggert, Theresa Cassidy & Wanda Maximoff, Lorna Dane & Kurt Wagner, Theresa Cassidy & Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Rogue, David Haller & Kevin MacTaggert, Rogue & Kevin MacTaggert Characters: David Haller, Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, Lorna Dane, Rogue, Kurt Wagner, Theresa Cassidy, Kevin MacTaggert Tags: past abuse, implied/referenced child abuse, child death, implied/referenced child death, past alcohol abuse/alcoholism, medical trauma, Daddy Issues, Angst and Feels

Summary:

“I have this dream that I am hitting my dad with a baseball bat/ And he is screaming and crying for help/ And maybe halfway through it has more to do with me killing him/ Than it ever did protecting myself/ And I believe that yeah, dad, maybe no one is perfect/ But I believe that you are pushing your luck.” - Father, The Front Bottoms ————— The Krakoan Era was meant to hallmark a new period of unity for mutant kind, but not everyone is accepted, and not everyone feels welcome. Old connections are reformed and new connections made, while other bonds deteriorate much faster than they were formed. David Haller, Lorna Dane, Rogue, Kurt Wagner, Kevin MacTaggert, Theresa Cassidy, and Pietro and Wanda Maximoff find themselves struggling to understand these changes as their lives are shaped by the island.