#me when i ask nightcrawler to turn into the @ sign

[urdreamydoodles]

Could we get some headcannons on how X-Men characters would deal with an s/o who struggles with verbal communication? (I was thinking someone who just struggles with words but they could be deaf or mute as well)

Like instead of talking they use notes, or gestures, or even actual sign language to communicate. I was thinking it’s usually done when the reader is struggling to ask for something directly, or just convey what they’re thinking.

(I wasn’t sure if you’d want specific characters to think of or if you’d want free rein, but I’ll list a few of my favourites; Wolverine, Nightcrawler, Gambit, Storm, Morph, Magneto, Beast)

X-Men x Reader

You struggles with verbal communication

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Morph, Erik Lehnsherr, Hank McCoy, Jean Grey, Rogue, Cable & Wade Wilson

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- You’d been living at the mansion for a while, and while most people understood your struggle with verbal communication, Logan didn’t seem to get it at first. He wasn’t rude about it, but his gruff nature often led him to misinterpret your gestures. “What, you can’t just spit it out?” he’d ask, crossing his arms. You’d roll your eyes and scribble something on a notepad, sliding it over to him with a sharp look. He’d grumble but take it, slowly realizing how much effort you were putting into every interaction.

- Logan started paying closer attention over time. He noticed how your hands moved when you gestured, how your eyes flicked to certain objects when you wanted something. He wasn’t the type to ask outright, but he started observing quietly, learning your nonverbal cues like he was piecing together a puzzle. One day, you found him practicing basic ASL signs in the corner of the library. “Figured it might make things easier,” he said when you caught him, scratching the back of his neck.

- He surprised you by using those signs during casual conversations, albeit a bit clumsily at first. When you were struggling to ask for help one day, he simply signed, What do you need? It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to bring tears to your eyes. “Don’t get all weepy on me, kid,” he grumbled, handing you a tissue. Still, the small smile tugging at his lips showed he was proud of himself.

- Logan’s protectiveness shone through in unexpected ways. If someone gave you a hard time about not speaking, he’d step in with a sharp glare that could silence a room. “Got a problem with how they communicate?” he’d growl, leaving no room for argument. You never asked him to defend you, but his unwavering support made you feel seen in ways you hadn’t before.

- Over time, the two of you grew closer. Logan’s patience, hidden beneath his rough exterior, was a balm to your insecurities. One evening, after a particularly long day, you handed him a note that read, Thank you for understanding me. He read it silently, then looked up at you with an intensity that made your heart race. “Ain’t nothin’ to thank me for,” he said softly. “You’re worth the effort.”

- The shift from friendship to romance was seamless. Logan wasn’t one for grand declarations, but his actions spoke volumes. He started carrying a small notepad for you, just in case you ran out of paper. And when he kissed you for the first time, it was tender, unhurried, as if he was trying to convey all the words he knew you struggled to say. “You don’t need words with me, darlin’,” he whispered against your lips. “I get you just fine.”

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy was instantly intrigued by your quiet nature, his curiosity piqued when he saw you using gestures and notes to communicate. “Mon cher, you always this mysterious?” he teased with a charming smirk. At first, you thought he was just flirting like he did with everyone, but his genuine interest shone through when he started trying to decode your gestures without making you uncomfortable.

- He quickly turned your communication struggles into a game, guessing what you were trying to say with an exaggerated flair. “You tryin’ to tell me you hungry? Or you just wanna see ol’ Remy look like a fool?” he’d say, making you laugh silently. His lighthearted approach made it easier for you to relax, even when you struggled to get your point across.

- One evening, when you left a sketchpad on the table with a note reading, I’m not sure how to ask for help, Remy’s teasing demeanor softened. “Cher,” he said quietly, taking a seat beside you, “you don’t gotta be afraid to ask me for nothin’, yeah? I’ll figure it out.” His reassurance, paired with his playful charm, made you feel safe in ways you hadn’t expected.

- Remy’s natural adaptability shone as he started learning little tricks to help you communicate. He began carrying a deck of blank cards, writing quick responses or questions for you to use. “See? Now we both got somethin’ to write on,” he’d say with a wink, making the process feel less daunting. He even started teaching you French phrases, encouraging you to write them down when words failed.

- The moment things shifted between you two was subtle but impactful. One night, you handed him a note that simply read, I like you. His red eyes glimmered with mischief as he read it, but his smile was surprisingly tender. “Well, cher,” he said, leaning in closer, “guess it’s only fair I tell you somethin’, too.” Before you could respond, he pressed a soft kiss to your hand, his actions speaking louder than words ever could.

- Dating Remy was like navigating a whirlwind of charm and affection. He made it clear that he adored you, using every opportunity to show you how much he cared. From spontaneous gestures to quiet moments where he’d sit beside you, letting your notes and signs speak volumes, Remy proved that your unique way of communicating only made him fall for you harder.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt noticed your struggle with verbal communication almost immediately, his empathetic nature drawing him toward you. “You do not speak much, ja?” he asked one day, his tone gentle and curious. When you nodded, he didn’t press further, instead offering you a warm smile. “I understand. We all have our ways.”

- He quickly adapted to your communication style, finding joy in the way you used gestures and notes. “It is like learning a new language,” he said with excitement, his tail flicking behind him. “And I am always eager to learn.” His enthusiasm made it easier for you to open up, his patience and kindness making every interaction feel effortless.

- One day, you hesitated, struggling to express something important. Kurt noticed your frustration and gently placed a hand on yours. “Take your time,” he said softly, his golden eyes filled with understanding. When you finally handed him a note that read, I don’t know how to ask for help sometimes, he nodded solemnly. “You never have to worry about that with me,” he assured you. “I am here for you, always.”

- Kurt began incorporating small acts of reassurance into your daily life, like leaving you notes of encouragement or learning more ASL to communicate with you better. His joy when you taught him new signs was infectious. “Did I do it right?” he’d ask, his tail curling nervously as he signed a simple phrase. Your smile was all the confirmation he needed.

- The turning point came one evening when you handed him a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Kurt’s eyes widened, and a faint blush colored his blue cheeks. “Mein Schatz,” he whispered, his voice full of emotion. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.” He pulled you into a gentle hug, his tail wrapping around you in a protective embrace.

- Being with Kurt was like stepping into a world of unwavering kindness and affection. He made it his mission to understand you, to support you in every way possible. “You do not need words to tell me how you feel,” he said one day, his fingers tracing your hand. “I can see it in your eyes. And I will always speak for the both of us, if you need.”

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott was initially unsure of how to approach you. He respected your quiet nature but didn’t want to overstep. When he saw you using notes and gestures to communicate, he made a conscious effort to pay attention, his leadership instincts kicking in. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make things easier,” he said one day, his tone sincere.

- He started picking up on your cues quickly, his analytical mind piecing together patterns in your gestures. “You don’t have to rush,” he’d say whenever you hesitated, giving you the space to communicate at your own pace. His patience surprised you, his usually stoic demeanor softening in your presence.

- One day, after a training session, you handed Scott a note that read, I feel like I’m slowing everyone down. He frowned, shaking his head firmly. “That’s not true,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re part of this team, and we support each other. Don’t ever feel like you’re a burden.” His words were firm but full of warmth, his unwavering belief in you shining through.

- Scott began making small adjustments to accommodate your communication style, like keeping a whiteboard in the common areas or encouraging others to be more patient. “It’s not about how you communicate,” he told you one evening. “It’s about making sure you’re heard.” His support made you feel seen in ways you hadn’t before.

- The moment your relationship shifted was quiet but profound. You handed Scott a note that read, I care about you more than I can say. He read it silently, then looked up at you with a rare, soft smile. “I care about you too,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The kiss that followed was tender, his hands cradling your face like you were something precious.

- Being with Scott meant being with someone who valued every part of you. He made sure you always felt included, never letting your struggles define you. “You don’t need to say a word,” he told you one day, his hand resting over yours. “I’ll always understand.” His quiet devotion was a constant reminder that love didn’t need words to thrive.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- Ororo was naturally drawn to your quiet strength. She noticed your use of notes and gestures early on, her sharp intuition picking up on how you often hesitated to ask for help. She approached you with her characteristic grace, offering you a kind smile. “You speak in your own way,” she said softly. “And I’d like to listen, if you’ll let me.” Her calm understanding put you at ease immediately.

- Ororo quickly adapted to your style of communication. She never rushed you, instead waiting patiently for you to finish writing or signing. “Take your time,” she’d say whenever she noticed you struggling. Her respect for your pace made you feel valued, and you found yourself opening up more around her.

- One day, you handed her a note that read, I don’t know how to ask for what I need sometimes. Ororo’s serene expression softened, and she placed a gentle hand over yours. “You’ve already asked by sharing this with me,” she said. “Let me help you carry that weight.” Her words felt like a soothing balm, her unwavering support reassuring you in ways you hadn’t expected.

- Over time, Ororo began incorporating subtle gestures to show her understanding. She’d leave small notes of encouragement in places she knew you’d find them, or create gentle winds to carry your written messages to her during training sessions. Her actions spoke louder than words, and they reminded you daily of her care for you.

- The turning point came during a quiet evening in the garden. You handed Ororo a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Her silver hair shimmered in the moonlight as she read your message, a radiant smile spreading across her face. “The feeling is mutual,” she said, her voice filled with warmth. She leaned in to kiss your forehead, her touch as gentle as a summer breeze.

- Being with Ororo was like standing in the eye of a storm—peaceful yet powerful. She made you feel seen and cherished, her understanding and empathy creating a safe space for your love to flourish. “Your voice is beautiful,” she told you one day, tracing your hand with hers. “Even if it’s not always spoken aloud, it still reaches me.”

Kevin Sydney aka. Morph

- Morph immediately took an interest in you, his playful nature making him curious about your quiet demeanor. “So, what’s the deal?” he asked one day, his tone lighthearted. When you handed him a note explaining that you struggled with verbal communication, his face lit up with excitement. “A challenge, huh? I love a good puzzle!”

- He made it his mission to understand your gestures and notes, often turning your interactions into a game. “Okay, charades it is!” he’d say, mimicking your motions in exaggerated ways that made you laugh. His humor took the pressure off, and you found yourself enjoying his company more than you expected.

- One day, you scribbled a note that read, I’m not good at asking for help. Morph read it aloud, then gave you a dramatic bow. “Lucky for you, I’m great at helping!” he said with a grin. Despite his joking tone, his sincerity was evident in the way he stuck around, always ready to lend a hand.

- Morph’s shape-shifting abilities came in handy when it came to communicating. He’d transform into a giant hand to mimic your gestures or into a cartoonish version of himself to make you laugh when you were feeling down. His creativity knew no bounds, and his efforts to connect with you were as entertaining as they were heartfelt.

- The moment things shifted between you was as spontaneous as Morph himself. You handed him a note that read, I think I like you. He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like he’d been shot. “I knew it!” he said, pulling you into a spin. When he set you down, his usual joking demeanor softened, and he leaned in to kiss you gently. “I like you too,” he said with uncharacteristic tenderness.

- Being with Morph was an adventure in every sense of the word. He made sure you never felt isolated, using his humor and shape-shifting to keep things light and fun. “You don’t have to say a word,” he told you one day, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I can read you loud and clear, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik was initially perplexed by your communication style, his analytical mind trying to make sense of your hesitations. When he realized you relied on notes and gestures, he was intrigued rather than dismissive. “An unconventional approach,” he mused. “But effective, nonetheless.” His curiosity made you nervous at first, but his lack of judgment slowly put you at ease.

- He began studying your gestures with the same intensity he applied to everything else, determined to understand you fully. “Communication is an art,” he said one day, watching as you wrote something down. “And you are a master of it, even without words.” His respect for your efforts made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t experienced before.

- One evening, you handed Erik a note that read, I feel like I’m a burden. He read it silently, his expression darkening. “You are not a burden,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You are resourceful, intelligent, and resilient. Never diminish yourself in my presence again.” His words, though blunt, were filled with an undeniable care that warmed your heart.

- Erik’s efforts to support you were both subtle and grand. He’d manipulate small metal objects to write words in the air for you or create intricate metal sculptures to convey messages when you struggled. His actions showed a thoughtfulness that contrasted sharply with his usual stern demeanor.

- The turning point came during a quiet moment in his study. You slid him a note that read, I care about you more than I can say. Erik’s sharp eyes softened as he read your words. He set the note down carefully, then reached for your hand. “And I care for you,” he said, his voice low and steady. His kiss was deliberate, filled with the kind of intensity that only Erik could bring.

- Being with Erik was like standing beside a force of nature—powerful, unyielding, and deeply protective. He made sure you always felt valued, his actions speaking louder than any words ever could. “You don’t need to speak,” he told you one evening, his hand resting gently on yours. “Your presence is enough.”

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- Hank was fascinated by your unique way of communicating, his scientific mind eager to understand the nuances of your gestures and notes. “A fascinating approach,” he said the first time he saw you write something down. “May I inquire further?” His genuine interest made you feel less self-conscious, and you found yourself opening up to him quickly.

- He started keeping a notebook nearby, jotting down your cues and gestures like he was studying a new language. “It’s remarkable how much you can convey without words,” he said one day, his admiration evident. His encouragement made you feel proud of your communication style, rather than ashamed of it.

- One afternoon, you left a note in his lab that read, I feel like I’m too much work for people. When Hank found it, his brow furrowed, and he immediately sought you out. “You are never too much work,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “If anything, you’ve taught me to see the world in a new way, and I’m grateful for that.”

- Hank’s support manifested in practical ways. He developed small devices to make it easier for you to communicate, like a digital notepad that converted your writing into speech. “A little invention of mine,” he said with a sheepish smile. “I hope it’s helpful.” His thoughtfulness left you speechless, your gratitude clear in the way you hugged him tightly.

- The moment your relationship shifted was as gentle as Hank himself. You handed him a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Hank read it carefully, his blue fur bristling slightly as he looked up at you with wide eyes. “The feeling is mutual,” he said, his voice soft. His kiss was tentative but warm, filled with the quiet intensity that defined him.

- Being with Hank was like being wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and understanding. He made sure you always felt supported, his kindness and intellect creating a safe space for your love to grow. “Your voice is unique,” he told you one day, his hand resting over yours. “And I consider it an honor to understand it.”

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean noticed your quiet demeanor and alternative way of communicating long before you realized. She often caught glimpses of your emotions through her telepathy, though she never intruded. When you passed her notes or gestured instead of speaking, she responded with patience and understanding, letting you take the lead. “Take your time,” she’d say softly, her gentle smile a constant reassurance.

- Jean quickly adapted to your style, finding ways to bridge the gaps in communication. She subtly enhanced your gestures with her telepathy, sensing what you meant before you could even fully convey it. “It’s like we have our own secret language,” she teased one day, her green eyes sparkling. Her ability to meet you halfway made you feel less alone.

- One day, during a quiet moment in the mansion’s library, you hesitated before passing her a note. It read, Sometimes, I feel like I don’t belong here. Jean’s expression softened as she read it, and she reached out to take your hand. “You belong wherever you choose to be,” she said, her voice filled with conviction. “And right now, I’m glad you’re here with me.”

- Jean began leaving small notes for you as well, little affirmations that brightened your day. “You’re stronger than you think,” one read, tucked under your door. “You don’t have to say a word for me to know how amazing you are,” said another, left with your breakfast. These gestures reminded you that she was always thinking of you, even in the smallest ways.

- The shift in your relationship came during a walk through the garden. You handed her a note that read, I care about you, more than I probably should. Jean’s face lit up with a radiant smile, and she reached up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Good,” she said softly. “Because I feel the same way.” Her kiss was gentle and warm, like sunlight breaking through the clouds.

- Being with Jean felt like basking in a calm, nurturing presence. She understood you deeply, both through her powers and her heart. “You don’t need words to express yourself,” she told you one day, her hand resting lightly on your cheek. “You’ve already said everything I need to hear.”

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- Rogue was drawn to your quiet, introspective nature. She was no stranger to feeling out of place, and when she noticed your reliance on notes and gestures, she connected with you immediately. “Ah reckon we’re both a little unconventional,” she said one day, her Southern drawl soft. “But that’s what makes us unique.”

- She made it her mission to understand your style of communication, often using humor to lighten the mood. “What’s this one mean?” she’d joke, mimicking your gestures dramatically. Her teasing was never mean-spirited, and her playful attitude made it easier for you to relax around her.

- One afternoon, you left her a note that read, I’m afraid people will get tired of me. Rogue’s gloved hand tightened around the paper, her expression shifting to one of fierce determination. “Sugar, if anyone ever makes ya feel that way, they’re not worth your time,” she said firmly. “Ah’ll never get tired of ya, that’s for sure.”

- Rogue’s physical limitations due to her powers didn’t stop her from showing her care. She’d use small gestures like slipping notes into your jacket pocket or brushing her covered hand against yours to reassure you. Her creativity in expressing her feelings mirrored your own, making you feel understood on a deeper level.

- The turning point came during a late-night conversation in the mansion’s common room. You passed her a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Rogue’s green eyes widened, and she bit her lip nervously. “Ah’ve been feelin’ the same way,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She leaned in, her gloved hand cupping your cheek as she kissed you carefully, mindful of her powers.

- Being with Rogue was like finding a kindred spirit. She understood the challenges of feeling different and made sure you never felt isolated. “You don’t need to say a thing, darlin’,” she told you one day, her smile soft and warm. “Ah know exactly how ya feel.”

Nathan Summers aka. Cable

- Cable’s gruff exterior initially made you hesitant to approach him, but he surprised you with his patience and attentiveness. He noticed your preference for notes and gestures right away, his keen tactical mind quickly adapting to your style. “Communication’s about understanding,” he said once. “Doesn’t matter how you do it, as long as it works.”

- Despite his hardened demeanor, Cable showed surprising softness when it came to you. He’d take your notes seriously, his cybernetic hand carefully holding the paper as he read. “Got it,” he’d say with a small nod, making you feel heard and respected.

- One day, you scribbled a note that read, I don’t know how to ask for help. Cable’s steel-blue eyes softened as he read it, and he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to ask,” he said simply. “I’ll always have your back.” His words, though straightforward, carried a depth of sincerity that stayed with you.

- Cable’s actions spoke louder than words. He’d leave you supplies he thought you might need or subtly adjust his schedule to be around when he thought you might struggle. His protective nature made you feel safe, even without verbal reassurances.

- The moment your relationship shifted was quiet but profound. You handed him a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Cable read it, his expression unreadable at first. Then, a rare smile crossed his face. “Guess I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” he said, pulling you into his arms. His kiss was firm yet gentle, a reflection of the man himself.

- Being with Cable was like having a steadfast anchor in a chaotic world. He didn’t need flowery words to show his care; his actions spoke volumes. “You’ve got your way of communicating,” he told you one day, his voice steady. “And I’ve got mine. Together, we make it work.”

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- Wade was immediately fascinated by your unique communication style. “You’re like a mysterious, silent protagonist,” he quipped one day, leaning dramatically against a doorframe. “Do I get to be the comic relief in your story?” His lighthearted approach put you at ease, though his constant chatter sometimes overwhelmed you.

- He took your notes and gestures as a challenge, often exaggerating his responses to make you laugh. “Oh, I see what you mean!” he’d say, even when he clearly didn’t. His antics were equal parts endearing and infuriating, but his genuine effort to connect with you never wavered.

- One day, you passed Wade a note that read, Sometimes I feel like I’m too much. He stared at it for a moment, unusually quiet. Then he grinned and said, “Too much? Sweetheart, have you met me? You’re like the perfect yin to my yang!” His humor was disarming, but the sincerity in his eyes reassured you.

- Wade found creative ways to communicate with you, often using props, drawings, or even sock puppets to convey his thoughts. “See? Communication is an art form,” he said, holding up a poorly drawn cartoon of the two of you. His efforts were chaotic but heartfelt, showing you how much he cared.

- The shift in your relationship came during a quiet moment in his usually loud life. You handed him a note that read, I think I love you. Wade froze, uncharacteristically speechless. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he scooped you into his arms. “I knew it!” he shouted, spinning you around. His kiss was surprisingly tender, a rare glimpse of the man beneath the mask.

- Being with Wade was unpredictable but filled with joy. He made you feel understood in his own chaotic way, proving that love didn’t need to follow traditional rules. “You don’t need words,” he told you one day, his voice unusually soft. “I get you. And trust me, that’s saying something.”

[brw]

1, 9 and 10 for your ask game please!

1) the character everyone gets wrong

I'd go with Hank Pym and Janet Van Dyne, and I know that's cheating because that's two, but in my defence, the ways in which people get them wrong independently absolutely inform the ways they get the other wrong to.

Janet is a lot more proactive in her relationship with Hank than people give her credit for, and was a much bigger reason of why their relationship failed than people also give her credit for. There's a push to rewrite history and make her a very flat victim, and I can see why, but it's frustrating because I think it's a lot more interesting that Janet repeatedly and purposefully ignored multiple warning signs that Hank's health was imperiled simply because she held on to a belief that love could overcome anything, including a man's undiagnosed and unmedicated schizophrenia. It is JANET who makes the decision to marry. She is essentially the one who proposed, after Hank–hallucinating as Yellowjacket and genuinely thinks he is his own murderer–kidnaps her, then briefly becomes lucid and backs off.

Genuinely, right. Genuinely. I don't think the Hank we see here, violently hallucinating, thinking he murdered himself and having a totally different persona and attitude, was in a position to give meaningful consent! I think it's very clear this is a man a danger to himself and to other people, who was not in the right frame of mind to agree to marriage, but people prefer to write Janet as a very basic victim, which I think is a massive disservice to the actually really nuanced way her relationship with Hank was sometimes written, where Hank was clearly unwell and Janet knew it but thought it was an issue that could be fixed with holiday's and sex and Avenging and not a more fundamental psychological one, and that's a far more interesting story to me.

9) worst part of canon

Lotta things I can put here. I think at the moment I am most frustrated by "Krakoa had no people on it before mutants fine, therefore it isn't an ethnostate and it's totally cool and awesome", because the lie of "there were no people here before us!" has been used time and time again throughout history to justify genocide, oppression, violence and colonialism, and I do not think it is the place of the white Americans in charge of writing Krakoa to essentially legitimise those lies because they didn't want to write Magneto or Nightcrawler or Wolverine and company to be out and out colonisers. If you are writing this kind of project, I think you should have the dignity to commit to it.

10) worst part of fanon

in no particular order

Dadneto, House of M dynasty as a whole

Charles is walking. More than anything else with Cherik this annoys me the most. Motherfucker I'll break his legs myself. Please at the very least let the disabled character be disabled.

The notion that Sue/Namor is real and happened

Logan Howlett girldad

Crystal doesn't exist in the Maximoff family conversation, related to that I once saw a haha fandom meme where Crystal was called an absent parent and that is so fundmantally untrue it felt like I was being trolled

Claremont's racism and zionism isn't real don't worry about it. Close your eyes and only mention it when it's something you can't pretend doesn't exist like Kitty Pryde saying the n word multiple times

Hank McCoy was Always Evil and Always Fated To Go Dark. That's just a regular man forced to hang out with his high school friends after three years of doing nothing but smoke weed with a gay 1950s theatre nerd. You would turn "evil" too.

That Reed Richards doesn't love his wife??? He invented comic guys being really intense about their wives. Leave him alone... that's the love of his life above all else??? Excuse me.

[sukifans]

IT’S ALL LATIN TO ME

ZUKO X READER COLLEGE!SMAU

⏎ MASTERLIST // part VI « VII. just friends :) » part VIII

SUMMARY: you’re a premed student at BSSU and you thought it’d be a good idea to take a latin class, but you’re in way over your head here. good thing your buddy sokka knows a classics major in your section you can study with.

WARNINGS: language

She really, really tried not to show how nervous she was. It would be stupid to be nervous, after all — it’s not a date, regardless of what her friends say. Besides, they had hung out alone before, even if only to study Latin. Friends meet up and get dinner and see movies together all the time. Toph and Suki and everyone else were just projecting what they wanted to happen. Surely if Zuko had intended to ask her on a date, he would simply and clearly ask her on a date. Surely.

The car ride to the pizza joint near the theater they’d decided on for dinner was mostly music-filled silence punctuated by some awkward small talk. She hoped he wouldn’t notice how often she had to covertly wipe the sweat off her palms on her pants. He was anxiously tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel as he drove, wishing he could think of something to say to break through the palpable tension. Even as he racked his brains, nothing came up. He let himself zone out to the sound of her soft humming from the passenger seat and stole glances over at her every so often. Maybe by some miracle he’d be a master at the art of conversation by the time they made it to the restaurant. Unlikely, but not entirely impossible.

“You know I have to pay for your ticket now, right?” she said, eyeballing him as he added a tip and signed the receipt for the dinner he’d insisted on covering.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m paying tonight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m paying tonight.”

“You don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I want to,” he assured, bumping against her side as they left the restaurant and headed in the direction of the theater. “Besides, princesses don’t pay for anything.” He grinned at the way her nose scrunched.

“You would know,” she quipped. He rolled his eyes to draw attention away from his nervous blush when she linked their arms together and leaned into him.

“Why do they call you that, anyways?”

She pursed her lips and willed the aggressive heat rising to her cheeks to settle down. “They say I’m high maintenance,” she lied.

He frowned. “That’s kind of mean. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re high maintenance.”

“Thanks, Zu.”

They continued to chat lightheartedly as they walked up to the theater building and, after a bit of arguing and shoving to get to the card reader first at the ticket stand, (Y/N) begrudgingly accepted that Zuko would not be letting her pay that night. She held out hope that maybe she could sneakily buy something from the concession stand before he noticed. As they approached the counter, an employee ringing people up caught her eye. He was familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. The feeling kept getting stronger as she and Zuko approached his register.

“Oh, hey, Zuko,” the guy said once she and Zuko were in front of him.

“Hey, Haru.” Ah, Haru! She and him had had a few classes together in the past and sent lecture notes back and forth. “How have you been?”

“The usual, work and school.” Haru shrugged. “You?”

“Pretty much the same,” said Zuko. “Do you know my friend (Y/N)?” Haru looked over to her and gave her a soft smile.

“Actually, yeah. We’ve been in a few lectures together. What’s up? Haven’t seen you this semester.”

“Oh, you know... the usual,” she chuckled nervously. “You and Zuko know each other?”

“We went to high school together,” he said.

“It seems like everyone at BSSU went to high school together,” she said and Haru nodded.

“Most people that went to our school ended up here, honestly. But hey, I don’t wanna keep you guys from your movie. Can I get you something?”

(Y/N) had nearly tackled Zuko in order to pay for their snacks before he could, making Haru laugh. When she met his eyes, she felt warmth flood to her cheeks.

“Thanks, Haru,” she said, looking away quickly.

“Yeah, for sure. Have a good time, guys.” As she started to turn away, he leaned forwards to catch her attention. “It was nice seeing you again, (Y/N); I’ve kinda missed you copying off my notes in class. We should go out for coffee or something sometime.”

Well... that was unexpected. She was so surprised by the request that she didn’t notice the way Zuko stiffened, muscles in his face flexing as he clenched his jaw. Haru did, however, and shot him a confused look that was met with narrowed eyes. Blinking quickly, she recovered and sent him a smile.

“Yeah, that’d be fun,” she said.

“Great!” Haru said. “I’ll talk to you later, then. See you guys around.”

“Have a good shift!” she chirped. Zuko merely grunted and nodded towards Haru in acknowledgement before walking towards the theater with (Y/N). Now she noticed the tension in his posture and nudged him with her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You sure? You’re acting weird now.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.” She frowned and stopped just outside the entrance to the theater. He paused too when he saw she wasn’t following.

“Do you not want to see the movie anymore? We can go home if you want.”

“No, I said I was fine. Let’s go.” He turned to leave and huffed when she didn’t move.

“Zuko,” she said pointedly and he felt his cheeks go pink. If he would’ve just plainly told her this was supposed to be a date, this wouldn’t have happened. It wasn’t her fault he was a jealous idiot.

He sighed. “I promise it’s nothing. It’s just a little jarring seeing people from high school because... well, I wasn’t a very good person back then. I don’t like to remember it.”

Her expression softened. “Sorry, Zu. I didn’t realize.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You’re right, I was acting weird.” He held his hand out to her and she took it gladly. “C’mon, we have a movie to watch.”

“If it means anything to you,” she whispered as they looked for their seats, “I think you’re a very good person now.” His pulse jumped at her words as she squeezed his hand.

“It means a lot, (Y/N),” he responded, giving her a small smile that she returned.

When they finally left the theater a few hours later, Zuko made sure their clasped hands were in plain sight as (Y/N) waved goodbye to Haru.

A/N: hi guys!! it’s been a while, i know :/ i was going through a big slump and this chapter was giving me a lot of problems for some reason. i’m still not thrilled with it, but i wanted to get something out for y’all! thank you so much for being patient with me as i adjusted to moving back to my college town and starting classes and work again, so many of you were so very lovely and supportive and it made the slump easier to worm out of eventually. and i made a gif! :D anyways!! hope you enjoyed this update and as always feel free to send an ask or reply! for tag requests i prefer asks so i can keep track of them easier without getting lost in my notifs :^) also sorry about no read more cuts, every time i try to add one on desktop it won’t let me edit my draft on mobile to fix the formatting :(

TAGS: @theblueslytherin @beifongsss @coconutsaiyan @5sos-wdw @silverreading @the-lva-way @cupofnctea @khaleesi-of-assassins @bloomkings @pyromaniac-olive @lil-lex1 @kyleewrites @cece-lives-here @coldlilheart @royahllty @astralsaf @damianwaynerocks @darkskin-buttercup @emogril @plutaars @duh-dobrik @harajukukitsune @kangaroobunny @harmlessoffering @rosetheshapeshifter @past-2am @welovediaaxx @dailytrashypanda @thenutellabreadsticks @sara5208 @whalerus @fanworrior @andrevvminyrd @travvestys @rosesandpines @cipheress-to-k-pop @lukessimp @justab-eautifulmess @mochminnie @whoevenfrickenknows @asianequation @booksandwonderlands @dekumiya @mothman-juicy-ass @spooky-titties @394pitterpatterpotter394 @rockinearthbending-marauders @kurt-nightcrawler @sifucuteness @degenerationarmy @songofgratitude

[youandthemountains]

#5, 2, 10, 17, 20

2. what fandoms were apart of that you aren’t any longer?

I don’t flounce out as much as fandoms just die out or I get fixated on something new SO i’m using this as an excuse for a chronological fandom history. how many people will hate me when I’m done, let’s find out.

LISTEN this is possible the most annoying post I’ve ever created but was also very fun so I’m answering the rest of these in a separate post bc it got too long already.

but, you all should feel free to ask me if I was ever in one of your fandoms because at this rate signs point to yes.

Bandom is I think what I first found fic for. look, i KNOW. i KNOW. i was a child. specifically I remember reading stuff for The Libertines (I KNOWWW leave me alone. I am aware. There were some really good writers for it, everyone was doing it, idk man). and god REALLY early on, like what, early middle school? I remember a lot of those pop-emo bandom fics particularly. jesus this is embarrassing. but ry*n r*ss / br*nd*n ur*e fic. I’m sure there were others but let’s move on before the cringe incapacitates me.

House/Wilson on LJ babeyyy. Where I was introduced to hurt/comfort. Fun times. Related, Sherlock Holmes. Inescapable. All versions.

pre-MCU Marvel - fully comics based. X-Men had the best fics. I remember loving in particular - Peter Parker/Johnny Storm, anything with Jubilee, I personally shipped Shadowcat/Jean Grey before I knew what shipping or the internet or fandom was, I loved Gambit/Wolverine and I remember some really good Gambit/Nightcrawler fics. Lot of discourse on the nature of being monstrous in those that was interesting. I would read Hawkeye and anyone because he had good and totally different dynamics with so many different characters but I did have a soft spot for Clint/Bucky, Clint/Sam, and Clintasha. oh I was also into Bucky/Natasha because I did really love comics Black Widow. the less popular ones that i loved were - Sunspot/Cannonball, SamBucky, Jessica JSilk/Black Cat, MJ/Gwen Stacy, Peter/Harry Osborn, Sam/Bucky,  Elektra/Natasha, Foggy/Matt, Kate Bishop/America Chavez, Daredevil/Black Panther, the Heroes for Hire polycule, god I think Angel/Quicksilver purely bc of Marvel 1602, honestly there were a lot. This would need it’s own post because comics are a bunch of attractive people with interesting dynamics and plenty of What If? opportunities.  

Speak of comics, I was also into DC - Superbat, Booster Gold/Blue Beetle, Kaldur’ahm/Superboy (literally no one was into this besides me lmfao), was and am a huge Batfam fan, I am 100% a Damian Wayne apologist, oh was and tbh still kind of am really into Dick Grayson/Clint Barton fic. Yes I realize that’s insane but idk love the concept of carnies in love. Wonder Woman/Meera, Constantine/Zatanna, Zatanna/Wonder Woman, Constantine/King Shark now of course, Harley/Ivy, Harley/Ivy/Selina, Kate Kane/Renee Montoya, Constatine/Dream, Vi you turned me on to au teen girl Chastantine and I love that. Again, I’m sure there are more.

The Social Network also on LJ babeyyy. Of course Markwardo, but there were some great writers that made a really compelling case for Sean/Eduardo.

Heroes - specifically Matthinder which was ICONIC and still deserves so much more attention. They RAISED A CHILD TOGETHER. Honestly I was into Mohinder/anyone though.

MI-5 which was me and like 4 other people. Adam/Zaf is still my all time favorite ship that has zero engagement whatsoever. I know in my heart that Zaf faked his death and met up with Adam who let him retire with him in secret and safety. For something even more obscure that I care about way too much - Vik/Jez endgame and Vik/Rob as friends with benefits from Spooks: Code 9. I have a very detailed story in my head about them but maybe 7 people total watched that show before it was cancelled. Rob is probably the most villainous character that I’m into. 

Torchwood - yes Janto, also Owen/Ianto again purely because there were some really good writers for it.

If we’re getting into my obscure fandom phase - Primeval: New World. Mac/Evan and Mac/Connor. I could talk about this forever, I think it’s such a fascinating and tragic story but I won’t because no one will have any idea wtf I’m talking about 

Of course Doctor Who. Come on man. I was a sucker for Nine/Rose, Nine/Jack, Eleven/Rory/Amy, and Amy/Rory. Martha was my favorite companion but I didn’t really like Ten and he was a dick to her. 

Dear White People -  Sam/Coco, Sam/Jo, Troy/Lionel, Jo/Reggie, Reggie/Lionel (did this make sense? no. did I think it’d be hot? yeah.) GOD LIONEL/SILVIO UNTIL SILVIO WAS EVIL. 

Xena and Gabrielle/Xena

White Collar - Neal/Peter & Neal/Burkes

The Get Down - Shao/Zeke, Pretty Dizzee D/Thor, god these kids!!! 

MASH - Hawkeye/BJ

HP but literally the tiniest corner of it, had a mild interest in Ron/Draco & Ron/Harry so I barely checked it out bc that was pretty niche

the Gene Wilder multiverse. oh also the Gene Kelly multiverse. both the Genes always give themselves a boyfriend and a girlfriend that are gorgeous and hilarious.

I still haven’t seen Jurassic Park III but I think Billy/Dr. Grant are in love

Indiana Jones - I read. Every single one of the novels. I watched Young Indiana Jones. I adored him. 

The Flash TV - this one I did actually leave. I was in it for Cisco, Wally, and Iris. I think Iris/Barry are sweet, and I also liked Cisco/Barry, Cisco/Wally, and Iris/Cisco. I just lost interest in the show. 

Legends of Tomorrow - Sara/all her girlfriends throughout time

Dragon Age - yeah I love Anders/Fenris & Dorian/Iron Bull. I think Cullen/Dorian has the occasional good fic but it’s definitely hit or miss. 

Star Wars - oh star war. how do i hate thee. let me recount the ways. No I still love Hanleia, Landoleia, Han/Lando, Hanluke, Leia/Mara Jade, Mara Jade/Arden Lyn, Luke/Mara Jade, FinnPoe (My LOVES), uhhh that’s it. I do also love Black Squadron and Rapier Squadron. Jess/Kare Kun was underrated although Kare/Snap is also fun. I saw Rose/Kaydel Ko and that was real galaxy brained.

Mad Men - I really did love Don & Betty’s dynamic post-divorce. Also him and Peggy - not romantically at all but just something cold and sharp.

Firefly - Mal/Simon, and Kay/Inara. I’d read Jayne/Simon bc there was more of it but it was not my fave at all

Community - Trobed my beloved

GLOW - everyone on this show had a great dynamic AND i love my brown lesbians <33

Game of Thrones - but I never got past the first book so. Theon/Robb and Theon/Jon, Sansa/Marjorie Tyrell, I do like the occasional Theon/Sansa

The Exorcist (TV) - Tomas/Marcus was SO good man. 

Glee - Brittana supremacy, Finn/Kurt was nice at first, and weirdly so was Puck/Kurt when written in a very specific way. 

Shadowhunters - listen I’ve only seen like 3 episodes of this but I like the fandom and Magnus/Alec are gorgeous

Rogue One - Bodhi/Cassian my beloved. Also love your Kes/Cassian stuff

MCU - listen I do still maintain ca:tws was a samsteve meetcute. 

United States of Tara - this was just a great show

okay have I alienated everyone yet. I’m sure there are more but this has been a LOT already.

[marvxlousqueen]

Warren Worthington- Mistakes

requested: I don’t know if request are open🙈but whenever you can, can you please make an angsty warren x reader where the reader was mind controlled and attacked warren and maybe hurt him (wings for example) and after, warren broke up w her. She then sees him w another girl and decided to completely ignore him like get him out of her life and let him find peace again/happiness even if it’s not with her. But w a happy ending like them getting back 🥰🥺 I love ur angst warren fics btw 💓💓

word count: 1.3K

warnings: cursing thats it i think

(Y/n) woke up with her head pounding. Opening her eyes, she realized she was in the infirmary back at the school. Last thing she remembered was heat- a burning heat that might’ve been coming from her before she passed out. 

“(Y/n), you okay?”

Sitting up, she looked to her left and saw Ororo watching her, a concerned look on her face. Peter stood behind her.

“Hey Ro, what happened? The shooters-”

“It’s fine. Everythings... everythings fine.”

Peter nodded, but the look on his face wasn’t convincing.

“Pete? What happened? Is it Warren? Is he okay?”

(Y/n) looked around the room  and saw the other beds empty, no sign of a hurt Warren.

“Peter, please. What happened?”

He looked at Ororo. She gave a nod and he answered. “There were more mutants with them than we thought. Thought they had just the two, remember?”

(Y/n) nodded, eyes trained on his face hearing every word.

“There was a third. Some mind control dickwad. He saw that you were the one smoking them out of the building and I guess he tapped into your head. Jean tried to stop him, but she was busy helping Scott save civilians...”

(Y/n) could hardly breath. Someone had controlled me?, she thought. 

“And?” she asked, not even sure she wanted to hear what else had occured.

“He turned you against us. You started flaming at us and the other two mutants got away before we could shoot them down. Got the mind control guy though and he let you go.”

(Y/n) swallowed, “Did I- Did I hurt anyone? Oh god-”

Ororo spoke up, “No civilians.”

“Thank god, but- but the team?”

She continued, “You kinda fireballed my storm and made me fall, but I’m alright. That was about it. Except for Warren.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widened, “I hurt Warren? Fuck! Is he okay? Where is he?”

Peter sighed, “he’s in his room healing up. You basically toasted his wings. Hank says he outta commission for the next few weeks until the feathers can regrow.”

She nodded, head feeling heavy. (Y/n) pulled her legs off the side of the bed facing Ororo and Peter. 

“Woah, where you going?” Ororo pushed her back onto the bed.

“To see Warren. I need to apologize and I- I miss him. Want him to know I’m okay.”

“He doesn’t want to see you.”

(Y/n)’s eyebrows furrowed, “What? Why not? I need to apologize.”

Peter sat down on her hospital bed, “he- he blames you, (y/n). I tried talking to him. I know it’s not your fault- we all know it’s not your fault. He’s just not listening.”

Her throat went dry. 

“Yeah, Peter’s telling the truth. I think you really scared him. He was up pretty high when you shot him down.”

(Y/n) pushed past Peter and pulled out the IV in her arm. She marched down the hallway, still wearing her hospital gown. 

“(y/n) don’t!”

Ororo called after her, but knew there was no good in trying to hold her back.

She made her way to Warren’s door and knocked until he opened it. (Y/n)’s eyes were immediately drawn to his wings. They weren’t the normal pristine white, they were black and charred because of me, she thought.

“Warren I am so so sorry. I had no idea what was happening and I couldn’t control-”

He cut her off with his words, “(Y/n) I’m done.”

His words rang in her head, “d-done? Done with what?”

“You. This. You’ve always been dangerous and it’s sad that you had to just about kill me for me to see that for once.”

“That wasn’t me! I wasn’t the one-”

He shook his head, “you had never been able to control yourself. This is for my own safety. I hope you get that.”

(Y/n) took a second to study his face. The dark circles around his eyes were more pronounced under the lights in the hallway. His lip was busted open, probably from biting it when he got nervous- a bad habit he had never been able to break.

“Warren-”

“Please, (Y/n).”

He went back into his room and closed the door, leaving (Y/n) outside as tears formed in her eyes.

(Y/n) spent the next few weeks adjusting to life without Warren. They had almost every class together, including training. It hurt to see him look so okay with it. But each time she felt tears coming she would suck it up and think about him. He needs to be safe, she would say. With that understanding, she began to put him out of her mind and attempt to move on. 

The thing that made that far more difficult was seeing Warren chat up Betsy during training. It almost made (Y/n) gag. They were getting way too close during partner stretching, but she had to remind herself she wasn’t allowed to be jealous anymore. He wasn’t hers anymore. The worst part was how often Warren would look over to her, almost as if to say “look at me! I’m moving on just fine!”. 

(Y/n) looked away and focused on the task at hand: holding a target for Jubilee to punch at. (Y/n) spared one more glance at Warren only to find him looking back for what must have been the third time that class. His face flushed and he went back to punching the target Betsy was holding. Since (Y/n) wasn’t paying attention and had unconsciously began to lower the target, Jubilee punched her square in the nose. 

“Fuck! Sorry! Jesus- I am so sorry (Y/n)!”

Her hand flew up to her nose to try and stop the blood from hitting the mat below them. 

“Let me take you to the nurse. Here-”

“I can do it! I can- I can take her.”

Warren walked over and nodded at Jubilee before putting a hand on (Y/n)’s back to guide her.

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t risk saying anything since she didn’t want blood in her mouth. The walk to the nurses office was silent. Then Warren sat across from her as the nurse wiped up the blood and checked if it was broken. 

“Yep, broken alright. Stay put and I’ll go see if Hank has anything to help with that.”

(Y/n) nodded, washing her hands in the nurse sink after the woman left. 

“Can we talk?”

(Y/n) turned off the faucet, “about what?”

“About how sorry I am. About how- how I wasn’t thinking and was scared and stupid. So fucking stupid.”

(Y/n) turned around to face him and was surprised to see him standing close to her, eyes getting red. 

“You did scare me, I won’t lie about that. But I was a dumbass for blaming you. You’re not dangerous- you’re really not. Every mission I honestly feel like you’re the only one who can actually protect me. The only one I trust.”

“Don’t trust Betsy?”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Betsy? Oh- I, well, I might’ve been using her to see if you still felt anything towards me.”

Her jaw dropped a little, “that’s so fucked, Warren.”

He nodded, “I know, I know. I’ll apologize to her later, but I just had to tell you that first. I am so sorry.” 

(Y/n) stared up at him as he took a step closer. 

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but-”

She cut him off with a quick kiss before his nose banged into hers. 

“Fuck! My nose- jesus.”

He grabbed her arm, “you okay? Sit down, sit down!”

He sat next to her on the nurse’s table.

“Sorry- didn’t mean to bang into your nose, just got a little excited.”

(Y/n) laughed before biting her lip, a habit she realized she must’ve picked up from Warren. 

“Excited why?”

He took her face in his hands and turned her towards him, “Haven’t kissed my girl in two weeks because I was an idiot.”

He leaned forward and gave her a gentle kiss being mindful of her injury. 

“I missed you.”

taglist: @chocolatealmondmilkshake@thoughtlesspace@chxrrymoons@babebenhardy@rexorangecouny@cyndagoaway@killcomet@mcrmarvelloki@queen-turtle-boiii@hardlylo@ziggymay-blog@onceuponadetectivedemigod​@ixchel-9275​@queen-baelin @radiob-l-a-hblah​@kurt-nightcrawler​@kellypenac​@disaster-rose​@free-pool-trash​@jinxfirebolt18902​

[spacesuitsforemergency]

Weapon Hex

Chapter 1: The Runaways Run Away

Word Count: 1.7k

Originally Requested by: @amateurwriterbigdreamer

A/N: love that Onawa was requested to be in this! I’m not giving her a huge part until she turns into a villain so that it’s centered around Y/N for now! These are all gonna be short chapters since there’s not a whole ass movie to cover. Hope you like it!

“I said no!” You yelled at the STAR Labs scientist, who had been trying to hook up a machine to you, to observe your brain waves. The other kids you had escaped the Reach with were watching from across the room, waiting for instructions. They watched with their eyes wide in fear and concern as the scientist cornered you.

“Y/N, you have to calm down.” He told you calmly, despite the annoyed tone of his voice.

You crouched in a defensive stance, snarling at him to tell him to back off. Two security guards grabbed your arms, and you thrashed in their hold, warning them to let you go. Your heart rate began to pick up as they held you down, and the scientist picked up a needle. You knew the drug wouldn’t work on you, none of them did, but you had to act like it would.

Your plan was to be calm and act out of it once they “sedated” you, so that they wouldn’t see you as dangerous. Then, once their guard was down, you’d attack.

“No! Stop!” You yelled as the needle stuck into your arm, and you slowly pretended to get tired. You made your eyes droop and breathed very slowly, so that when he checked your pulse it would be at the rate it should be with sedation in your veins.

“Put her in a straight jacket.” The scientist ordered a guard.

“You can’t do that!” Virgil Hawkins stood up.

“That’s way out of line!” Tye Longshadow glared at the scientist.

“She’s far too dangerous.”

“She obviously doesn’t want your help. You can’t just force her to do stuff!” Eduardo Dorado Jr. snapped. The scientist ignored him as the guards put your arms in a straight jacket, then sat you down in the last chair. You pretended to be half asleep, but when no one was looking you winked at the other 6 kids before they were called over. You shut your eyes and your head fell back against the wall, you figured you’d might as well rest. Your thoughts wandered to your father, and the horror stories about Stryker and the Weapon X program.

Your father was James Howlett, AKA The Wolverine, and your mother was Jean Grey, another X-Man. She had died half a year ago, destroyed by the Phoenix Force. You had run away from the X-Mansion because of it. You were treated different by the other kids, and even your team, Excalibur. Nightcrawler, Gambit, Rogue, Colossus, Lockheed, even your best friend, Kitty Pryde, treated you differently than before the Phoenix killed your mother. They treated you as if you’d turn on them any second. As if you’d attack them. As if you were an animal. A monster.

Your father had become even more distant and angry than before, which was something you didn’t think was possible. You didn’t know how to comfort him, and he didn’t know how to comfort you. Nobody was there for you while you grieved for your mother, and you felt feared and unwanted. So, to make things easier for them, you left. You planned to just wander, maybe even steal a motorcycle and follow in your fathers footsteps. You had been waiting for a bus when the Reach kidnapped you. When you woke up, voices were talking in your head. You were terrified, but then you heard your mothers voice. Whether it was actually her or just your subconscious, you didn’t know, but she helped you control the other voices. You were extremely intelligent, so it didn’t take long for you to get the hang of telepathy. When you finally escaped, you were put back into more testing. It made you anxious and panicky, since you knew what happened to your father and many mutants when they were tested on. You remembered the mutants that died being experimented on by Trask, and the lifelong trauma it brought your father.

“If we let you out, do you think you can handle getting some food without throwing a fit?” A security guard asked you, mocking you as if you were a child.

You lifted your head and nodded slowly, manipulating his mind to think your pupils were dilated, a sign of sedation. Once he was satisfied he unbuckled the straight jacket and helped you up, but you convinced him you could walk on your own. You walked out to the hallway and stopped at a corner, watching the others who were listening to Eduardo Jr and Eduardo Sr arguing very loudly. They looked away when he storms out, slamming the door.

“Uh...we should get lunch while we have time.” Virgil suggested.

“This is so messed up.” Tye snapped. “STAR is as bad as the Reach and worse than home.”

“Wouldn’t go that far.” Onawa Longshadow, who you figured out was his sister, mumbled.

“But STAR wants to help us.” Neut, some other escapee said quietly.

“Whatever, Neut. I just know I can’t take much more of this.” Tye said through his teeth.

“You won’t have to. Cause we’re busting out. Tonight.” Virgil says with determination. This perks your attention, so you walks towards them.

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Eduardo asked. “This place is a fortress.”

“You’ll need me.”

They all spin around and see you, perfectly awake and not sedated at all.

“You faked it, didn’t you?” Tye asked you, grinning.

“That’s what he said.” Virgil whispered, Eduardo snickering while Tye rolled his eyes.

“Drugs and medicine don’t work on me.” You shook your head. “The doctors are idiots.”

“Is that your metahuman gene?” Eduardo asked.

“No. That’s my X-Gene.” You shake your head as you looked around to make sure there’s no guards spying on you guys.

“Wait...” Tye mumbled. “I thought you were a telepath?”

“Holy shit! You’re like Wolverine, right? With a healing factor!” Virgil exclaimed.

“What?” A guard overheard from the other hallway. You rolled your eyes and erased the last few seconds from his mind, then created a “mind link” with the others, translating for Asami at the same time. Not Neut though, you knew he wanted to stay and report you. So you erased his mind as well.

‘Don’t yell. Talk to me through this.’ You ordered as you all started walking towards the cafeteria. ‘Yes, Wolverine is my father. My X-Gene developed when I was little, but the Reach activated my meta gene as well.’

‘No fair, so you’ve got like, a hundred powers?’ Virgil asked.

‘Can you even count? She’s got two.’ Onawa rolled her eyes.

‘So you know how to get us out of here?’ Tye asked. He seemed to be the most restless and adamant about leaving, which you took note of.

‘We leave tonight. I’ll take care of everything.’

•

“Please, tell me you're not serious about running. Running, escaping, whatever you want to call it, we're gone. This is serious. I nearly blew up Central City. My powers may be gone now, but what if they come back, you know, escalate out of control all over again? What if your powers escalate? Dude, you can't control them now. Look, I know Wilcox is a pain. STAR is a pain, but they're trying to keep us safe. Or at least keep the world safe from us.” Neut tried to reason with you.

“I’m outta here..” Virgil scoffed as you led him towards the door.

“Oh yeah.” Tye nodded, his sister following behind.

“Adios.” Eduardo waved to Neut.

“Are you coming Sam?” You asked her.

“I think so?” She tilted her head.

“That might mean yes.” Tye and Eduardo both led her towards you.

You spun around when alarms suddenly blared, and you saw Neut at some control panel.

“Sorry. But I can’t let you do this.” Neut narrowed his eyes.

“Bold of you to assume you were letting us in the first place, punk!” Onawa glared at him, starting to charge at him before her brother tugged her back.

“Let’s go!” You shouted at them, rushing down the hallway. Virgil and Eduardo sprinted ahead of you, right at the door. Virgil tried to open the door, but it was locked.

“The alarms put the whole place on lockdown!” Virgil alerted you.

“Great! Now what?” Tye asked.

“No idea.” Virgil admitted.

“Well what was your escape plan?” Eduardo asked.

“Uh...I didn’t really come up with one.” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck. “Y/N, weren’t you supposed to be in charge here?”

“I am. Just wait for it.” You told them. You knew guards would be at every exit any minute, and you wanted to show them something.

“Ed? Can you teleport us out?” Virgil asked, trying to figure out why you were just standing there staring down the hall.

“Haven't you been paying attention? I can only teleport myself and only along sight lines. Which makes escaping from a windowless, locked hallway somewhat difficult!” Eduardo shouted, accent becoming thicker in his anger.

“No problem! Tye can do his thing, right?” Virgil turned to Tye.

“Wrong! I can’t control ‘my thing’! It just happens!” Tye shook his head.

“Onawa? Can you do some magic or something?”

“No way! If I try to tear apart the door I could tear you apart too! I don’t have control yet, you-“ Onawa opened her mouth to say some god awful curse.

“That’s enough.” Tye smacked her arm.

“Look out!” Asami pointed.

You grinned when some guards ran up, channeling your inner Wolverine.

“You kids need to come with us!” A guard warned.

“Don’t think so.” Eduardo said darkly.

You charged at the guards, finally sheathing your claws. You made sure to not cut any vital parts, only making flesh wounds to keep them down. You snarled at them, baring your sharp teeth. Once they were all down, you turned around and charged towards the others. They all jumped aside as you went for the door, easily tearing through the layers of metal. You retracted your claws, standing straight and feeling your shoulders and back crack loudly. You turned around, everyone staring at you in shock and fear.

“Let’s go.” You say calmly, before running off into the night.

[iimanga]

The Whole Marvelous Super Ultra Cosmic Magical Comic Book Universe

The produce of imagination and business that was Marvel Comics was a synchronic harmony sounded by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko and every one of the creators and craftsmen and inkers and colorists who worked there. Everything began during the mid 1960's the point at which the Fantastic Four and Spider-man and the X-men (The Uncanny X-Men) were framed from the creative mind of Stan Lee and Jack Kirby.

X-men was a film industry crush the previous summer. I'm certain you additionally recall the profoundly effective Hulk TV show.

The most punctual X-men comprised of Jean (Marvel Girl) Gray (who later turned into the amazingly well known Phoenix), Professor X (Xavier), Cyclops (Scott Summers), the insightful Beast (Hank McCoy), and Iceman (Bobbie). Freaks brought into the world with exceptional "super-freak" capacities.

Later came the New Mutants with more youthful characters having freak controls that occasionally appeared to have them (the main sort of comic book story I don't care for).

These characters from X-men including (Nightcrawler, Wolverine, Storm, Banshee, Kitty) advanced with the appearance of the imagination of John Byrne (beginning in issue #108 of X-men) and Chris Claremont (Giant Sized X-men #1 and Uncanny X-men #94 now esteemed at $500. up in "mint" condition. The most famous person was the principle star in the X-men film- - Wolverine. There makes certain to be a continuation for this film industry crush.

X-men Comics instructed kids that bias is shrewd. Individuals who live in dread and in this way eagerness attempt to annihilate what they don't comprehend.

Fascinating that both the latest Star Wars film and X-men film truly investigated lawmakers (Congress). In the event that force undermines totally is it conceivable our framework is totally bad? The Senator in the X-men film took in his example somewhat late.

Insect man- - the new Marvel film in progress - is about a typical young child anxiety (menaces thumping him, not getting any darlings, skin break out, etc is gentle stuff contrasted with the present school encounters -, for example, not having chance and killed while going to or going to the everyday schedule lured by a destructive medication or tainted by a stellar infection) is only nibbled by a radioactive bug (revolutionary stuff for the mid 1960's).

This gives Peter Parker super powers- - creepy crawly controls - whenever intensified a man could lift a truck and convey it 20 miles as insects do. (Try not to get me going discussing Henry Pym the Antman who became Giant Man in the Marvel's Avengers ((Capt. America, Thor the Thunder God etc.))). Add to that Peter Parker was likewise a splendid understudy who had the option to concoct a web shooter and other extraordinary innovations. What's more, Spider-man was brought into the world as a bi-result of the bi-item known as radioactive material (which Science actually doesn't have the foggiest idea how to dispose of). (Take a stab at telling that to the Bush organization). Everything is energy! Recall Tesla curls.

However, Marvel was not by any means the only spot strutting superpowered characters.

D.C. Funnies (Time Warner), as well, used folklore and accounts of Biblical extents to entrain, invigorate and energize ages of youngsters, children and grown-ups from the 1940's to introduce.

A few characters like Superman, Atom, Flash, Batman, Green Lantern, JLA and others and even D.C's. adaptation of Capt. Wonder might have been propelled by profound writing which recounted Hindu Gods and Goddesses and surprisingly Biblical personages who could remain in fire and so forth

Contents and Wit

Superheroes: starting through human creative mind and from writing, folklore, religion.

However most likely comic makers just made up their wondrous stories.

When I talked with Gerry Conway for the Comics Journal he conceded to me that he had investigated a portion of the funnies he composed. Conway's companion accomplice Roy Thomas no question investigated Conan and Thor and other material while author and supervisor at Marvel. They cooperated on the incredible enlivened Fire and Ice film. (Ralph Bakshi/Frank Frazetta).

Also, at first Thomas got the Conan property over to Marvel from Edgar Rice Burroughs in Tarzana, CA. (Tarzana- - Tarzan...get it? That's right, it also is a comic.)

More seasoned society know and love the endless Films and TV shows and serials highlighting these and other most loved brilliant characters: Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon, Commander Cody (which might have enlivened the Rocketeer comic and film).

COMIC BOOKS - Born by the sheer exhurberance of the actual Universe through the vehicle of the Human Being!

The Comic Industry is an analogy forever. An inestimable dramatization unfurling. In any case, not to place old wine into new containers: Many occasions in the past Marvel and D.C. have joined to do specials that helps the play of imagination. I initially met Stan Lee while I was the administrator of a Comic Book Store in Studio City, California in the 1970's.

Or then again, more precisely, I met him through his works at Marvel Comics - his exceptional contents and mind in 1961.

Exceptionally astute association with the fans through clubs and letter sections in bygone times caused one to feel like one was a piece of something. With Merry Marvel "we had a place."

Stan Lee's accounts contained genuine person's, finished with issues and the start of incredible groundbreaking thoughts and standards for carrying on with a decent life.

As when Spider-man didn't stop a Burglar - a similar Burglar who later killed his caring Uncle- - Peter Parker (Spider-man) got the message - serve humankind. With extraordinary force comes liability.

Furthermore, obligation is the capacity to react.

Energizing anecdotal stories loaded with experience and energy with ethics. Outlined lavishly.

Wonder Super characters were at first looked on by society as trouble makers. Even subsequent to saving human butt large number of times.

J. Jonah Jameson (modest Editor of the Daily Bugle paper) has abhorred Spider-person for more than 30 years. Jameson really attempted to annihilate Spider-man by turning into a super reprobate.

Adrenaline junkie (blind Attorney yet Batman-esque in capacities and actual strength and spryness - however with uplifted faculties) the Man unafraid was regularly marked a scalawag too from the start.

Similar to the always well known Incredible Hulk - first deified as a comic book during the 1960's. Who went from dull and idiotic to approach virtuoso relying upon the decade where this suffering person is perused.

What we dread we regularly view as shrewd.

Funnies have attempted to instruct us that the means are pretty much as significant as the finishes they produce.

What we do en route decides the outcome we will get. Funnies are distributed in light of the fact that a word sounds great to the distributer. However, a portion of these new youthful free distributers need to find out about the significance inside these words (thus do their clients). However, more capacity to these ambitious youths.

What is Yoga, Meditation, Tai Chi, Mantra? What is Zen? (One youthful upstart distributer of "Harmony - intergalactic Ninja" had never known about Alan Watts - incredible advertiser of Zen until I let him know Alan Watts was a renowned and famous scholar turned maverick Philosopher and Author (one of many) liable for acquainting Eastern Religions with the profoundly starved West- - frequently heard on KPFK radio. Alan Watts is potentially the chief advertiser of Zen. Watts' book " The Wisdom of Insecurity," specifies, for goodness' sake, Comic Books. What are Chakras? The Tao implies what? When children grow up and find out with regards to Meditation will they be spoiled by our ineptitude and insatiability?

Trendy expressions ordinarily lower cognizance and create turmoil. Obviously when I use to distribute stuff as a young person I made up names that sounded great however had almost no significance, for example, Beyond Infinity, مانجا لاند, Eon the Magazine of Graphic Illusions. I know less now than I did then, at that point. What is make, craftsmanship, Love, Truth?

I held a few signature parties with Stan Lee and Jack Kirby in the 1970's and 1980's. I tossed more than 50 effective signature parties with numerous awesome comic book specialists and authors. I'd have the occasion, give rewards, do all the publicizing, realistic workmanship, official statements, and so forth It was an invigorating encounter. It was enjoyable to cooperate with professionals and fans. I parted with a ton of free promotion stuff.

10th Nebula's first signature party was held with Stan Lee, distributer of Marvel Comics. For a considerable length of time my shop suffered in North Hollywood, CA nearby to the world's most seasoned Science Fiction Club (an inherent crowd of companions and fans and PC monsters).

The Stan Lee occasion evoked long queues of Comic Book devotees of any age slobbering for Stan's mark on the sprinkle page of their old and new funnies. These days experts sign funnies on the front of their title en mass which I don't support. (Yet, who pays attention to me).

Funnies structures are frequently manhandled by hopeful youthful distributers who utilize a few pointless full page sprinkles when the impact could be accomplished in a minuscule board - misuse of cash, ink and paper if you were to ask me. Not at all like bygone times when Steve Ditko gave us our best possible value as around 6 boards for each page - he in his manner resembled a Zen Master - the accuracy of his work matched the craft of Chinese Calligraphy (see his one of a kind style in old Atlas Comics from the 1950's). A portion of the new experimentation's by Frank Miller and different gifts have all accomplished outstandingly imaginative work as well.

[supernaturalee]

Green and Gold: Part 2 - Gwilym Lee x Reader

Pairings: Widow/Single Father! Gwilym Lee x Reader

Warnings: Some swearing, Mentions of X rated thoughts, and more KAREN

Word Count: 4.4k

Previous Parts: One

Summary: When Gwilym lost his wife two years ago he feared raising his daughter alone in a small coastal New Jersey town would be difficult. In the two years since her death, Gwil and Brianne are finally ready to start moving on. Following the words of a child psychologist, Gwil signs Bri up for cheerleading with the local youth squad, something Gwil knows nothing about. As he is thrust in the world of cheer bows and back handsprings, he will learn it takes a lot more than green and gold uniforms to mend his and his daughter’s hearts. Hopefully through the squad they will find strength, friendship, and possibly a spark of new love for the widow himself.  

Taglist:@the-baby-bookworm​ @ixchel-9275​ @slutforbritdick​ @kurt-nightcrawler​ @radio-hoo-ha​ @imgonnabeyourslave​ @queendeakyy​ @girllety​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @what-wicked-delights​ @drivenbybri​

Author’s Note: It’s almost 2 am EST and I thought to myself, why not post part two. We are getting into meat of the story here, y’all! Again, this update is late, but my writing was hard to come by for a while. So without further ado, he is part 2 of Green & Gold. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in future installments. 

In the four short weeks since Brianne had started cheerleading practice, Gwilym had come to learn three absolute truths. First being that cheer made Bri happier than Gwil had ever hoped. In the time since that first practice, he had seen her smile more than he had seen since before Angela had passed away. Her eyes lit up now whenever she spoke about how the routine was coming along or how she was learning all of these different things. Such as stunts or new tumbling passages or jumps that had odd names like toe touches, herkies, and pikes. While Gwilym cooked dinner or checked over her homework, he could always hear her routine music coming from the stereo in the living room. Once he got her to wash her hands and then settled at the table. It would become Gwilym’s inquiry into the world of cheerleading and Brianne was more than happy to oblige his many questions. 

Bri had taken to cheering like a fish takes to water. It was in her blood, Angela’s cheerleading history flowing through Brianne’s veins now. It made Gwil so happy. She spent three nights a week on the mat now and Saturday during the day at either the home field or away fields cheering on the young football players. The football team’s age coincided with the cheerleaders of Bri's team’s ages. Or the Mustang Pee Wees as Gwil had learned. He had finally found out the difference between the game cheers and the competition cheer as Bri had once told him. He usually sat in the game bleachers trying to decipher how American football was more popular than actual football. Or as Y/N lovingly reminded him every time he complained, “It’s soccer here.” she would say with a smile. At first he thought it was kind of annoying but now anytime she reminded him, he found it endearing. The way her lips curled up in a smile as she said it, he found himself mesmerized by it. 

When Brianne wasn’t cheering and once her homework was done, she could be found hanging out with her new friends Jasmine, Joey, and Selma. The carpool Y/N had promised had been fruitful for Brianne and Gwilym on the friendship front. They had been the type of cheer parents Gwilym had hoped for and luckily he got in with them instead of the others. That was the second absolute truth he learned that, cheer parents were absolutely bonkers bananas insane. Karen Diguimi was just the tip of the massive iceberg that was the “Stepford Stangs” as Joe lovingly coined them. Gwil had now become a member of the mailing list. A dreaded place to be that he wouldn’t have agreed to had he known what a nightmare it truly was. 

He had now started to receive daily emails with updates on fundraising and how close they were to the nice buses. Game schedules, rule changes, and low fat recipes to keep your little cheerleader in proper cheering shape were among the other important articles. Plus little snide comments on the surrounding towns’ teams and how far superior the Mustangs were to them. It was like a tabloid magazine that Gwil now had a daily subscription too.

 Y/N had sent him a long paragraph text about the low carb recipes and how dare the “Stepford Stangs” imply that only certain shaped children could be cheerleaders. ‘It is the middle of October and they are nine and ten years old. WHY DO THEY HAVE TO BE SWIMSUIT READY?! Gwil, you will have to stop me from strangling Karen at the next practice.’ It made Gwilym feel a swell of pride for a moment that he read her text. It caused the return of a certain set of emotions. These feelings that he was feeling were something he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Often he would check over the email for that week’s game schedule then file the email away. His new gang of misfit parents would mock the over ridiculous links in the emails or the fact that they received a new one every day. Joe always sent a meme or two about them, while Rami commented on the complete lack of email etiquette. ‘It’s too many emails and too many people hit Reply All instead of reply. It is chaotic!’ Rami had sent in their group chat. ‘I think its nice to keep us informed with the same information that we knew yesterday.’ Lucy had added. Gwil finally being able to put a face to the name as he met Rami’s other half at the first football game of the year. She was blonde, slim, and in a way almost fairy like. Her movements were graceful but she had this hidden strength to her. Rami and Lucy complimented each other well. Rami was a computer engineer, who like Gwil, could do most of his work from home. Lucy, on the other hand, was a certified midwife and a nurse at the local OBGYN. Often traveling between the hospital and the doctor office. Their schedules mostly allow for their twin girls’ busy sports schedules to work. Joe ran an accounting firm but swore he was bad at math. He stated he liked the business but preferred leaving the accounting to his dedicated small team of accountants.

Finally, the third absolute truth that Gwilym Lee knew was that Wednesday nights were now his favorite night of the week. It was the only night parents were allowed to stay for the whole practice. This meant about two hours of watching Bri have the most fun and grow into an even stronger, more beautiful young woman. It also meant getting to spend time with his new friends including Y/N.  Y/N had quickly become Gwil’s confidant in all things cheer related. Any question or need he had, she had the answer and was always there with a smile. It was just another reason why Gwil was now harboring a crush on this woman. He and Bri had not seen her coming. He thought he would scrap by with googled information and keep his head down. He would be quiet and lonely,  knowing just enough to get by. 

Yet there was Y/N with her intelligence, her helping hand, and her kind heart. Bri also loved her and Jasmine. She was treated with so much love, respect, and care by Y/N. Gwil found it hard to keep himself from melting every time he was in her gaze. He felt like a teenage boy with a crush. He had confided in Ben who told him to get back on the horse. However, to Gwil, the horse was a twenty foot tall bear that was very hungry. Angela was still on his mind, in his life, in his heart. He saw her every day in the brown eyes of his daughter. He feared that any new relationship he would start would be doomed to be branded as the rebound relationship for the man with the dead wife. Even if he found someone, they had to pass the most important test in his book, being well loved by the most important person in his life, Brianne. He shook away the heavy thoughts as the red light turned green. He pressed his foot on the gas as he continued the drive to practice. Bri and Jasmine chatting in the back of his car. 

Y/N had asked him to pick Jasmine up from school and drive her to practice. Y/N had a meeting with the college board about one of her students. She would meet them at the cheer gym later. Gwil’s mind couldn’t help but wander to Y/N. He hoped her meeting went well. He knew in just the short few weeks of knowing her that her job meant a tremendous amount to her. Professor Y/L/N had a very nice ring to it. His mind wandering further to dirtier thoughts. If they were ever to be together would she let him play the teacher's pet. His fantasy slowly took form in his head when Bri’s voice snapped him back to reality. 

“Dad?” No answer came from the driver’s seat. “Earth to dad. Father?” She laughed. Gwil pushed all X rated thoughts from his mind and looked to the rear view. 

“Hmm?” He answered, putting on a small smile to show her that he has really been paying attention the whole time. 

“Could Jasmine and Ms. Y/L/N come to dinner with us?” Bri asked sweetly. The two had joined them for dinner every Wednesday night since that first practice. 

“Please Mr. Lee!” Jasmine used the same sweet voice. Gwil rubbed his jaw with his free hand as the two girls started repeating the world please. 

“Please please please please please please please please please please please please please!” Bri and Jasmine begged together. Gwilym laughed, smiling. 

“It is fine with me but we will have to ask your aunt, Jasmine, when we see her.” He said.  Both girls cheered happily as they looked at each other. 

“Of course Mr. Lee!” Jasmine smiled. “Aunt Y/N likes getting dinner with you and Bri.” Jasmine said. Gwil felt his cheeks heat up for a moment. This came as a surprise to him in a way. Sure he knew she cared about their friendship but maybe this meant she also felt something more for him. He quickly pushed this thought away, no it wasn’t a good time for him to get into a new relationship. I’m not ready. His thoughts continued his mantra. 

“Well we like having dinner with both of you as well, dear.” He answered her. Jasmine’s smile grew. She was a wonderful little girl who Gwilym had grown to care for. She didn’t know what she was doing for Brianne, but Gwil did and how it helped her improve immensely. He had known his daughter had tried to hide her sadness from him. It was something she tried to do to prove she was strong like Angela but she didn’t need to. Gwil and her grandparents knew that Brianne had every ounce of Angela’s strength tenfold. 

As he pulled into the parking lot of the cheer gym he saw Y/N’s Jeep had not yet arrived. He also didn’t see Joe’s or Rami’s cars either which meant he would be alone. He would most likely have to face yet another conversation with Karen. Or he could just hide out in his car until his friends arrived. He shook his head for a moment, he had to go inside, he could handle this. As both young girls made their way inside, Gwil followed behind them making sure both safely got in the building. 

He signed both in at the desk where the young man who Gwil had learned was one of the coaches’ sons sat. He gave the teenaged boy a wave before moving to his usual spot in the bleachers. He had settled into the groove of sitting with everyone, Gwil sat on a lower bench due to his height, while Y/N sat on the bleacher bench above him so she could make eye contact easier. Rami would sit above her and then Joe would sit beside her, the four almost making a little diamond of security. His blue eyes looked around the room before he spotted her. 

Karen was talking to some of the other team parents, her eyes scanning the room for him. He dropped his head down trying to hide himself from her.

“Oh Gwilym!” She exclaimed, moving to him. Gwil sat up straight, damn he had been caught. He politely smiled and nodded. Please don’t come over, please don’t come over, please don’t come over… He repeated in his head, it was too little too late. She made her way over to his place of peace and quiet. 

“Hello Mrs. Digumi.” He said politely. Her smile grew. Damn, his British charm. She stood in front of him. 

“Please call me Karen.” She smiled still. “I wanted to ask how everything was going with Brianne. She is quite the little cheerleader. One of the best on the squad. Almost as good as my little McKenna.” 

“Thank you. I will tell her that later. She certainly seems to be enjoying it and that makes me happy.” He said honestly, maybe he was wrong about Karen. 

“You should have her over for a play date with my McKenna. You and I can exchange parenting tips or tips of some other kind.” She batted her heavily mascaraed eyes at him. He gulped softly. 

“I will have to talk to Bri about it and get back to you Mrs. Dig-Karen.” He corrected himself. 

“I am just saying Brianne seems like a very sweet girl and you don’t want her to get in with the wrong crowd before middle school. Popularity is key and my little McKenna is going to be one of the most popular girls in school. Just like I was. If Brianne settles herself with the likes of those children, her social life is over and I don’t want that for her or for you. Popularity is everything.” She said as she sat next to him. No, he wasn’t wrong about Karen.

Wrong crowd? What the hell, they are children not teenagers. He thought to himself before defending the children of his friends. Popularity is everything. What a bunch of bullocks. 

“Jasmine, Joey, and Selma are good kids. They are smart, fun, courteous, kind and they are Bri’s friends. They were the first ones to welcome her with open arms,” He said. Gwil was a bit taken aback that a grown woman would say something like that about ten year olds. If Bri and Jasmine weren’t on the mat about 50 feet away, he would have forgotten his manners and let Karen have it. 

“I don’t appreciate you talking that way about my friends’ children or about your child’s fellow teammates.”   He continued, his tone was serious and sharp. Her eyes went wide as she heard the manner in which he spoke. 

“Oh! I didn’t mean the kids! I meant, um, the parents.” She was quick to backtrack and try to fix her mistake. Her chance with the Welsh man slipping away. “Gwilly, you are new to all of this. I should have specified that I meant that if Brianne settles herself with the likes of the parents of those children, her social life is over. You both deserve so much but you are still so naive, honey.” 

“My name is Gwilym.” He stated. She had called him Gwilly, a nickname that Angela would lovingly call him after a few glasses of wine. How dare this woman even try to put herself in the same realm of love as his wife. 

“I am so sorry honey.” She smiled to try to cover up the large hole she had dug for herself. “Like I was saying to you that first practice those parents you have chosen to bond with don’t understand the mustang way.” It was clear to Gwilym that Karen intended to keep digging. “Especially Y/N, I mean she likes to pretend she was a good cheerleader because she was once a national champion herself. But she was the worst one of that team, I should know, I did date her brother.” Karen said as jealousy slipped between each word. It was clear to her that Gwilym cared more for Y/N than he would ever care for her. “They carried her to the gold medal and she got the recognition for it like everyone else. Even made her brother break up with me, how dare she. That bitch.” That was the final straw for him.  

“I am going to stop you right there, Mrs. Diguimi. I do not want to hear you ever bad mouth my friends or their children. Please understand I am friendly with you because I have to be. You are the team mom and I do not really like having issues with anyone. However, my daughter is the only reason I am here. Y/N, Joe, Lucy and Rami plus their amazing children came as an incredible bonus to all of this. You did not.” He said calmly. “Now please step away from me and know, this is the last conversation we will have that is not about fundraising or cheering information. I do not take kindly to people belittling others or their children for their own personal benefit. Thank you and have a good night.” 

Karen let out a breath of air through her nose, standing up quickly. Moving from the bleachers, staring him down. 

“Oh I understand.” Her voice dripped with sweetly sickening venom. “If you ever change your mind I am right over there with the good parents.” She moved to the other waiting ‘Stepford Stangs’. Gwil let out a long breath as a smile appeared on his lips. God, how good it felt to let her have it and god how he wished Y/N had seen him. She would be so proud once he told her. It was the sudden sound of two voices that drew him away from his fantasy. 

“I see you are on the list now.” Rami said as he and Joe joined Gwilym in the bleachers. 

“List?” He asked, tilting his head curiously. 

“I’ll let Joe explain.” Rami smiled. 

“It is Karen Diguimi’s way of saying you are cancelled until you apologize.” Joe smirked. “We just caught the tail end of what you were saying but from what we heard, it was fucking brilliant.” He said quietly enough for just the three men to hear. “Welcome to the list. I have been on it since the ‘I won’t let my underage child wash stranger’s cars in the shortest shorts debacle of last summer season.” Joe said. 

“Rami, how did you end up on the list? It seems like she likes you the most out of all of us.” Gwil asked. Rami chuckled. 

“I once asked her if the pom poms for adults were necessary at a competition because it was just one extra thing to carry.” 

“That’s not too bad.”

“She also hates my wife.”

“Ah, I see.”

“So we both reside on the list with Joe and Y/N.”

“What did Y/N do to get on the list?”

“What hasn’t she done to get on the list?” Joe laughed. “First it was being Dominic Y/L/N’s little sister during high school. Then it was becoming Jasmine’s key guardian when he died, then it was a few other arbitrary things I don’t remember, but most recently, it was getting you to be our friend instead of hers.” Joe said. 

“It’s a rite of passage to get on the list.” Rami said. All three men laughed as Gwil felt more at peace than ever before. Even though Karen had basically verbally bashed children in front of him and badmouthed Y/N, she did provide one key piece of vital information. Y/N as a former national champion for the Mustangs, maybe even on the same squad as his late wife. He marked it in his brain to ask her later. 

As practice started and the three men continued their conversation, still no Y/N. Part of Gwilym began to worry that something bad had happened. He checked his phone to see if she had called or texted but nothing. He tried to push the worry to the back of his mind as Joe began to talk about the upcoming competition this weekend. It was the same thing Bri had not stopped talking about for the past week. Even as he got her and Jasmine into the car today, they talked about their nervous excitement for it. 

Joe was going to ride up with Rami and Lucy. Figuring Gwil would want to carpool with Y/N. Actually all three of them, Joe, Rami, and Lucy, hoped something would blossom between the two. 

“Oh I hadn’t even thought to ask her. It is probably too late, I will just drive up myself.” He said he was a bit disappointed he hadn’t asked. 

“She’ll say yes if you do ask.” Rami smled. 

“She might not.” Gwil continued. 

“Oh no, she will definitely say yes.” Joe smiled slyly. Both men looked at each like they both held the same secret that Gwil wasn’t privy to. It was at that moment Y/N moved into the gym still in her work clothes. Her blazer that was once covering the purple silk blouse, was replaced by a jean jacket. She wore black slacks and black vans. 

“I don’t drive in heels, I don’t want to be responsible for that many lives.” She had told him their first Wednesday night dinner out with the girls. He knew that she kept a pair of black lace up vans in her Jeep for the drive home from the university. 

“Speak of the Devil and she shall appear.” Joe teased her as she sat in her usual spot. She laughed and Gwil’s heart skyrocketed into flight. 

“Ha ha. Good to see you, Mozzarella.” She snarked. 

“That’s Mr. Mozzarella to you.” Joe answered. Both tossing their heads back gently and laughed. There went Gwil’s pulse racing for a moment. 

“Did I miss anything?” 

“Gwil’s on the list.” 

“No!”

“Oh hell yeah!”

“How? Tell me! I have to know how Karen’s little lust for you somehow got you on the list.”

“Karen’s little what?” Gwil said. 

“Dude, she wanted to bone you.” Joe said. “Hard.”

“Bone?” He asked.

“Sleep with you, knock boots, cherry pick, dude I know too analogies for sex.”

“She’s married!” Gwil exclaimed quietly to the group. 

“Hasn’t stopped her before.” Y/N said. “Anyway, tell me how you got on the list.” 

Gwilym began to tell the story of her confrontation with Karen. His own smile grew as he watched Y/N’s own smile grow as he got to the words match. 

“Mr. Lee you are bloody brilliant.” She said, her hand rubbed his arm for a moment before she withdrew it. Gwil blushed. 

“It was nothing.”

“This is cause for celebration. You being on the list. We will all go out kid free and celebrate soon.” Joe said. 

“Sounds good to me.” Rami agreed. Y/N nodded, her eyes looking up and waving to Jasmine as the girl waved back. 

“Hey Y/N, did you know Gwilym here was going to drive to Trenton all alone?” Joe stated. Gwil’s eyes went wide as he looked at the man over Y/N’s shoulder. He felt his cheeks heat up.

“Really?” She asked.

“Yeah. He was going to drive by himself.”

“Why don’t you ride with me? It isn’t as long as a drive if you have a partner.” She offered him. Her Y/E/C eyes meeting his blue. A small smile on her lips.

“Um, you won’t mind?” He asked shyly. 

“No, it will be a treat to spend time with you alone.” She said honestly, all the room felt almost like it was silent around them. Joe and Rami watching the two just share prolonged eye contact. Gwil could almost swear there was a light pink tinge on her cheeks as well. 

“Then it's all set. I’d love to ride with you.” He smiled. The tinge got a bit darker. 

Joe poked his head between the two, “Is your, um, neighbor coming?” He asked her. His voice was almost giddy, like Gwil’s when he talked about Y/N on the phone to Ben. Who was this woman  that was making Joe act like the same lovestruck teenager he was?

“Oh no. Unfortunately, Jolene had one of her advanced painting classes rescheduled to Saturday. It is too much money to miss out on but she promised Jasmine she was coming to Regionals.” Y/N said as she raked her hair up into a messy ponytail. 

“Oh.” Joe’s smile faded quickly. 

“You know you could just ask her out. She likes you too.” Y/N patted her friend’s shoulder. Joe shook his head. 

“The divorce is still too fresh to Joey. It wouldn’t be fair to him for me to get involved with someone new so soon after his mother and I split up.” Joe admitted. Gwilym understood that point. A divorce was a similar loss to a child as a parent passing. Everything became different over night for them, changing so suddenly. Joe and his ex were friendly enough to a point for the sake of their son. The one thing that will keep them forever linked. 

“Okay honey. One day though, Joey is just going to want his dad to be happy.” She said with a soft smile to their friend. Joe just nodded looking over at his son. 

How Karen could ever call this wonderful woman a bitch was past Gwilym’s arena of thought. He looked at Y/N and smiled. God how beautiful she is even in the lighting of this gym. He thought to himself. As more time passed for the practice, the three experienced cheer parents told Gwilym everything he would need to know to be ready for Saturday. How he would have to have Brianne ready before 6 am to get her to the gym so that the team could take a bus together to the arena before driving there with Y/N. He would have to make sure he paced enough bobby pins, snacks, water, everything. His worry level that he would mess this all up grew. Especially the idea that he would have to do her hair in a high slick back ponytail. Brianne had hair like her mom’s thick and wavy, he could barely get it into braids without at least three Youtube tutorials. 

“How about this? I bring Jasmine over at like 5. I can do both of their hair and you can make sure they have enough snacks?” Y/N offered, once again being the incredible person that she was. 

“Please. I fear what I would do to my poor girl’s head.” He said honestly. 

“I think you would be fine, but the first competition is the scariest for both the parent and the cheerleader.” 

“It will put not only my mind at rest but Bri’s mind too. Thank you Y/N.” 

“Anything for you, Gwil.” She smiled. “Oh and um, thanks for standing up for the kids earlier with Karen. She can talk all the crap she wants about me but Jasmine doesn’t deserve that. It means a lot to me and it shows me how wonderful of a human being you are.” She said before turning her attention back to the mat. His heart raced again. God, Wednesday nights really were his favorite. 

[kurtty-drabbles]

House of M- Redone (part 4)

N/A: This idea came to me in a feverish dream. Ok, thank God I wasn´t with a fever...but the idea came as if I was so...anyway. I have an idea for the villain in this story, thank God again.

@dannybagpipesarecalling @tieflingteeth @muninandhugin @djinmer4

Genosha has rules. Genosha needs rules to function even though, some misguided people seem to relish on the illusion that "if you´re a mutant, you´ve got a free pass to do anything" which the royal family is doing their best to disprove that. King Magneto´s marks still can be felt and sometimes, only sometimes, the royal family has to admire the tenacity of their father. If nothing else.

Rules are needed and no one is above law. Kurt Wagner is one of those people that work to make sure power doesn´t corrupt, at the same time, making sure power doesn´t go impune. The Red Guard has a reason to exist and Kurt has reasons to fear excess of power.

If we ever oppress the oppressed ...how can we ever dare to call us as Red Guard?

Thankfully, right now, is one of those moments where his true nature shines. "Is everyone present?" his golden eyes goes to Bobby Drake, one of Piotr´s victims or almost victims, then goes to Kitty Pryde- too silent and too composed to let anyone read her expressions- and finally to Illyana Rasputin the sister of the culprit.

"I´m waiting for my lawyer" is Yana´s only replies and she´s a reward by Roberto da Costa entering in the main office of the Red Guard´s headquarters spotting an easygoing smile. Then his eyes lock on Yana and both start talking in a different language.

Kurt follows Kitty´s expression and it seems she´s lost as well. Roberto da Costa aka Sunspot is a lawyer and was born and raised in Brazil, therefore, is no wonder he´s speaking in his native language. His golden eyes watch the scene for a moment and land back to Kitty. She too appears to be clueless about what they´re saying.

Bobby Drake, however, seems to not mind this interaction.

"Ok, I´m apart of the situation" Roberto uses a more professional tone. "I´ll represent Yana, Kitty and Bobby" his eyes linger to the Ice mutant for a moment, asking for permission, and said mutant nods solemnly. "In regards to what just happened" and faces Kurt now. No more easy-going smiles.

Kurt can be professional as well. Is his job and his career. " Piotr Rasputin was arrested for attempted murder on Bobby Drake" the ice mutant is not happy about it and shows no inclination of forgiveness. "As well to Kitty Pryde" and Kitty looks too unreliable. He doubts even Kwannon would be able to get through her mind.

Maybe ...she´s from project X after all.

"The victims present charge against the mutant, but, no one here wishes him to spend his entire life in...Rockbell" Kurt concludes and Kitty looks at Yana only nodding softly. A message was sent and Kurt is clueless about it.

"No one here wants that, but, we want justice...so, what´s the alternatives?" Roberto begins with a very pointy inquiry. "The laws of Genosha are too absolute. So as everyone here already vetted out for Rockbell, the only remain options are Expulsion, blocking off their abilities, or SweetBells!" his tone is sharp and focus.

"And I ask you, Red Guard Nightcrawler if we really have any choice here"  Roberto tries again. Kurt sighs and is bound to speak the truth. If we oppress the oppressed ...what´s the point?

"Normally, that would be a choice linked only to the victims and the system, however, it comes to our attention that Piotr Rasputin has done something similar to a man named Pete Wisdom...while he was saved by a nick of time...is still an aggravating" and his golden eyes seem to shine even more in direction to Yana Rasputin. "His options are really trim here...your brother seems to have a severe anger issue and presents to be a problem to everyone around him"

Maybe it was harsh. But, also true.

Kitty rose from her chair in the exact moment Yana, muttering something in Russian, is hiding her face behind her hands. "Is my fault...I should have done something ...when Piotr tried to kill Pete...I was naive and stupid to think he would stop..." she confessed.

And Yana slams her fists on the table hard. Too hard to the point a crack is made. "Shut up, Katya. This is not your fault...if anything, it should be mine...I saw the signs...I saw what he was becoming but...I didn´t do anything" her tone is crestfallen for a moment until her eyes shimmer a hellish hue. "My brother has demons to face and that I can understand more than anyone in this room"

No one spoke against such a claim. Magik has a heavy story.

Roberto looks at Yana and nods. "A compromise can be made. Sent him to the SweetRock and his powers will be blocked until he´s deemed to be better. Justice will be served and everyone will be in agreement" Roberto suggests.

Bobby wants to complain. Bobby wanted to complain but Kitty´s eyes stop him.

"If that happens...your brother will be there for a long while" Kurt warned. The SweetRock doesn´t work like other institutions, Piotr may as well spend his entire life in that place.

"Yes, I know, and considering what he tried to do...that´s too good for him" Yana states. "Can I go see him? Can I show him how much this displease me?" her face twisted into something demonic and Kurt almost back down. Almost.

Kitty is the voice of reason. "Yana, don´t! Anger won´t solve more anger" and again, those two send secret messages and Kurt is curious about their past.

"If Katya says so...you feel safer this way? If you prefer him to be exiled and without powers...I´ll understand" Yana has to say it.

"I did consider this...but, no...SweetRock is a good option" for you, she mentally adds. The conversation is over.

"My client, Yana Rasputin may visit her brother in the facility?"

"Not after 2 months"

"That..." Yana nods at Roberto. "is agreeable"

And the conversation shifts to insurance policies. A mutant going crazy, for whatever reason, and trying to kill you does warrant you some compensation.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Once putting the laws aside, life goes on. Kitty is a teacher and has to continue to do her job. She can´t help feeling bad for Yana (imagine if your brother tried to kill two people in an angry fit!) and won´t lie by saying Piotr deserved worse, however, she wouldn´t dare to inflict more pain in Yana´s life.

Her nose tracks the strong scent of brimstone and turns right to see Nightcrawler again. "Hello?"

Nightcrawler is still with his uniforms. Kitty can look at him up and down and understand why he´s so popular, yet not understand why he´s here of all places.

"I came here to see you...Before the fiasco with Piotr...I wanted to tell you the Juggernaut´s case has been dealt...he won´t cause any trouble ever again" there´s conviction in his tone. Sure, Kitty will be thankful.

Kitty blinks at this and then snaps her fingers. "Oh, yes. I completely forget about this, thanks...I guess."

She...forget?

"And I´m also here to ask you..." and Kurt believes the best defense is a quick attack. "if you´re a subject from the program X"

Kitty is deadpan staring at him. Too pointy and too bemused for his like.

"No, actually I was part of the program WXYZ" and stares at him pointy.

"You´re making fun of me...aren´t you?"

"One of many qualities I learn in the WXZY is subtle" and wink at him.

"So...you´re not from Program X?"

And Kitty chuckles leaving Kurt behind. She needs to laugh. Kurt can pick a new theory.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Wanda Maximoff is one of the most powerful mutants in the world. A fact no one let her forget and also, a fact that often comes with lots of burdens. One of its perks though is how no one would dare to pick a fight with her. Not that Polaris and Quicksilver aren´t powerful, but, the Scarlet Witch is another level.

However, as she stares at the lifeless body of her biological father-Magento and her may share DNA. Django Maximoff is the one who raised her and is her and Pietro´s father for real- Wanda can´t help by biting her bottom lip and let her eyes be as crimson as the moniker Scarlet Witch suggests.

Lorna is the one to break the silence. "So, is really not Wakanda or Atlantis that is after us..."

Pietro looks down at his biological father- Django is his father for real- not daring to touch the body. Not daring to speak ill about the dead either. "...There´s a message here" and is no metaphor.

There´s a small message next to Magneto´s body.

Wanda waits for Pietro to read for them.

"I´m back to return what´s mine"

And Lorna´s eyes wide. "Wait...how many people know about the real history of Genosha?"

"Few people and fewer are still alive...Another case of Dad´s henchmen wanting revenge" Wanda is not happy. "And if they plan on attacking Genosha...it means they´re tired of living" is her final words as she uses her magic to change the coffin in something more proper to Magneto. "We have a funeral to do. Our Jewish father deserves this much"

[valkyrieofsmut]

Kurt’s Mail Order Bride   4

Cowboy!Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler) x Mutant!OC

Descriptions:   Old westAU In about 1900 Germany, Kurt has heard stories about the wild west and dreamt about being a cowboy for a long time. When he’s brought over to America and sent to live with Logan he’s excited, until he learns what hard work a ranch actually is. Logan knows a woman will set him straight from his shenanigans, and brings one back. Kurt hopes for love, but they can’t seem to get along.

A/n- So, somehow, I had started separating this into double chapters...? Not quite sure how that happened, but, fixed from here on out. Honestly, good thing I check through these; I get to a part and am so confused, like, wtf...? Why are they doing x, we shouldn’t be that far... no... they definitely shouldn’t be doing x in chapter freaking four... lol. So, shorter chapters, but the pacing is better.

Masterlist

Story!

“Don’t know if you should take him into town, ‘sall,” Logan grunted. 

Kurt looked back to Beth from the ceiling beam as she answered, “He’ll stay in the wagon.” 

Kurt looked back to Logan. 

“You’re gonna get him caught, and who knows what’ll happen to the two of us when the town finds out about us.” 

Beth turned from the stove to look at him, her back straightening to her full height as she folded her arms and looked down at him with an unmovable stare. 

Logan stood and glared at her, but she was unmoved. 

Kurt watched the tense staring contest, not wanting to butt in. 

“Said no,” Logan finally grunted and left, Beth staring after him. 

Beth stood there for a moment before turning back to the counter and continuing rolling the bread dough. 

Kurt dropped from the beam and sat in a chair. “I wish I would have been able to see the town…” 

“We’ll leave after lunch tomorrow,” she told him. 

“What?” Kurt asked, looking up at her. 

“I said that we’ll leave after lunch tomorrow.” 

“But, Logan said no…” 

Beth shrugged. 

“You- you’re going to take me with you against his will?” Kurt asked, surprised at her bravery. 

“He is your benefactor, so he does have a degree of say over what you do, but he is not your father, so he does not rule you.” 

“What about you?” Kurt asked. 

“I pull my own weight around here. He has no more say over me than he does the dog; as long as it does it’s job, it’s free to do as it pleases.” 

Kurt felt a respect for her growing. She was standing up for him, although he wasn’t sure if it was more as a mother or older sister… 

He’d thought he’d have to stay on Logan’s farm for the rest of his life, but now he was going to be able to go into town… 

“We just have to get our chores done before we go,” she told him. 

. 

Kurt dumped the last bucket of water into the trough, wiping his forehead before teleporting back to the well and putting the bucket down. 

The cattle were watered, the cow had been milked, Beth was dressing to go into town, although he wasn’t sure why she needed to change clothes, and the chicken was in the oven, cooking low and slow to be delicious for dinner. 

Kurt waited on the front porch where Beth had told him to, and looked up as the large wagon pulled up close. He blinked in surprise to see it with the arched covering on it. 

“You put the top on?” He asked. 

“Well yes-” 

“You are afraid for people to see me,” he accused. 

Beth’s brows raised. “What?” 

“You put the top on so no one would be able to see me. You are worried that someone will see me and attack you, or run you out of town,” he accused again, thinking of the times he’d tried to go into town with the other circus performers when he was younger. 

“Kurt, stop,” Beth told him, and his name leaving her lips in that soft sweet way she spoke made him stop. “I put the top on so that you didn’t overheat. The sun is out bright, and it’s liable to be burning if you have to sit in it for hours with no protection.” 

Kurt blinked. “Oh…” he murmured sheepishly. 

He climbed into the back and sat close to the front so he could see where they were going, but didn’t have to look at Beth. 

He was embarrassed that he had spoken out like that when she had only been trying to make him more comfortable. 

It took quite a while to get to town, and when they did, Beth turned and poked her head into the cover. 

“Kurt, I have quite a bit of shopping to do. Enjoy people watching,” she told him with a smile.

She stood and climbed down, straightening her dress before tying the horses and starting off. 

Kurt looked out through the hole opening in the back, watching the town folk wander back and forth. 

The men were dressed nicely in mostly dark colors with chaps over their jeans, jackets open and loose over their shirts to let in the air, hats of mostly the same dark brown color. The ladies walked about in nicely ruffled, long dresses that accentuated their corset slimmed waists. 

Kurt thought back to that he had not seen Beth in anything like these dresses, only seeing her out in her loose shirt and skirt, having the freedom of movement that these dresses wouldn’t afford her for the work she did. 

Time passed, as did many more people, and Kurt grew bored. 

He turned and looked through the front of the wagon, seeing a large array of candies and fabrics through the shop window. He raised a brow, thinking that some of the candies looked delicious and wondering if he would be able to persuade Beth to get some for him. 

“Kurt, will you take these?” Beth asked from the back, and he turned and took the parcels that she was handing him. He looked over the things, but couldn’t tell what they were. 

She left and came back a few more times, but as the sun started lowering in the sky, it became less crowded, and Kurt turned back to the front of the wagon and looked into the shop. 

It was still a short while later when Beth started back, going into the shop in front of him and walking around, gathering more things. 

Kurt watched as she started toward the door, a man starting to chase after her. His head snapped up at that, and his tail swished back and forth behind him. Beth continued from the store, the man following her. She stopped in Kurt’s view and he saw that her dress accentuated her figure like the other women’s did theirs. 

His heart started beating a little faster, but his irritation grew at the man following her. 

“I was also wondering, Miss Beth… Had you heard about the Fall Harvest festival? It’s next month, and I was wondering…” He paused as he looked at Beth for an answer. 

“I haven’t heard about the festival,” she told him politely. 

“She doesn’t want to go with you,” Kurt growled under his breath, although why he should care about whether she did or not escaped him. 

“If you were free, I was hoping to ask you-” 

“Jeremy,” Beth began. “I apologize, but I cannot make any appointments that far away. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be here; I am staying at a cattle ranch, after all, and we may need to drive the cattle south.” 

“Oh, yes, of course,” Jeremy agreed, backing away. “Sorry to bother you with it, but if you’re still here, don’t forget I asked first,” he told her, going back into the shop. 

Beth climbed onto the wagon and leaned into where Kurt was sitting in a sour mood. 

“What’s got you with a lemon face?” She asked. 

Kurt looked up at her. “Nothing,” he grumbled. 

“Well… I was going to wait until we got started out, but here,” she handed him a multi colored candy stick. “Travel candy.” 

Kurt took it and stared at it, about to accuse her of treating him like a child, but saw that she also had one sticking out of her mouth as she looked to where she was turning the wagon down the road toward the way they’d come from originally. 

When they got back, Beth pulled up the wagon and climbed down while Kurt gathered things and teleported them to the porch in a few jaunts. Beth watched in amazement, this being the first time she’d seen him teleporting other than the couple of times out of the corner of her eye. Kurt put down the last package and disappeared with a Bamf! 

Beth looked around, but didn’t see any sign of him as Logan came out of the house, giving her a glare. 

Beth held her head high, walked to the porch and picked up a package, walking past Logan asking, “are you going to help me carry these, or just stand there?” 

Logan grumbled and picked up the packages. 

Kurt laid on the roof, staring angrily at the darkening sky. 

Why did seeing her like that make him feel something- why did seeing that man touch her arm to stop her from leaving make his stomach burn so? Why had he felt possessive and jealous? 

He wasn’t, he reassured himself. 

Why should he be jealous of that man she had brushed off? He felt a little happiness at that. Besides, that man hadn’t seen her in her undergarments, and he had, so he had a win on the man. 

A smile crept onto Kurt’s lips at the thought. 

Not that he cared, or was thinking that he was better off than that man for living in the same place as Beth, he quickly thought. 

Tag List!

@otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore  @racheo91  @tephi101  @lilypalmer1987  @pingu89  @gifsbysimplysonia  @omnomsauruswrites  @keldachick  @Randomfandompenguin  @mannls  @screeching-student-unknown  @lizfawn  @ya-lyublu-tebya  @their-bibliophile  @the-fifth-marauder03  @Jbstans

[robbyrobinson]

IN HEAVEN - A Horror story 

Being a reverend of our local congregation was a family tradition. My father was a reverend. His father was a reverend. His father was one. You get the picture. Sure, I might have had some doubts about the profession, and in life, I had tried to stave it off by furthering my education at some far-away university, but one way or another, the position called for me. I devoted most of my time at the university studying theology and religion. I was at the top of my class.

Soon came when my father passed the task of reverend to me. I recall that before he died, he seemed to be slightly darker in his mannerisms. He was always an optimistic man, even in the face of anyone who criticized his livelihood. But in his final years, he changed immensely. Anywhere he went, he carried grimness with him. He acted as though a rain cloud were over his head. He had grown despondent at his time of death, refusing to accept any prayers that his immortal soul be taken to a place of rest. But just before he succumbed and left the mortal coil, there were reports that he was deeply horrified and hyperventilated rapidly. His heart rate skyrocketed to abnormal leaps, and he died, a look of sheer horror being permanently glued on his face.

My first year as reverend didn't go as well as you'd imagine. For one, there were many young people who were the epitome of smart alecks. They always loved to bring up the supposed contradictions in the scriptures or how God was an immoral being who for all accounts was a tyrannical, mass murderer who was offended that mankind worshiped other gods or that He was simply unfair. This was always something that I was raised to believe: God had his reasons for what he does. What may seem to be bad for us is mere because we view things from our own perspective rather than his. Sure, descriptions of God's firing down burning sulfur and brimstone onto Sodom and Gomorrah were terrible, or God's slaughtering of the Egyptian children in the tenth and final plague that befell Egypt as stated in Exodus sounded horrific, but ultimately, I was convinced that God ultimately saw it as being for the Israelites' good, or how whenever bad things happened in my life, I held onto my faith.

Just last month, I lost my youngest son, Theodore to childhood leukemia. Yes, we prayed fervently for his recovery until he took his last breath. But still, maybe God wanted his precious, precious soul to be with him immediately. My one regret, however, was that he was never baptized. I remember my daughter looked at me with the most frightful expression of concern. That her brother was in Hell because he was too young to understand the notion of turning his life over to Christ. I tried to console my daughter that he was in Heaven, but she only compounded my frustrations by asking then why man was considered wicked the moment they were born.

But with all my trials, I prevailed. I continued to preach God's Word to the masses, saving countless souls. Some didn't accept the word, but if the seeds were sown, I was content. For sixty years I taught the same lesson of God's love for us and how he sent his son to act on our behalf. I also challenged countless atheist and agnostic debaters. To my congregation, I had - in their words - royally schooled them on my knowledge of the scriptures. By the time I retired, my eldest son Samuel took up the mantle. He started out kind of like how I did. He wasn't as bold in what he was saying, but within three months, he was becoming more convicted in the word.

At the age of 64, everything changed. During a monthly checkup with my doctor, I received the news that a tumor was detected forming in my frontal lobe. I had earlier endured severe headaches and I felt more tired than usual. I went to chemotherapy for weeks; anything that the doctors tried to implement simply did not work. On my death bed, my family gathered around. My church congregation had since ceased their prayers for me. Dying never really bothered me. Since I didn’t remember what it was like to be born, this would then mean that dying would be painless. My vital signs started to fade, and after two minutes, I let myself slip away.

A beam of light gently grazed upon my eyes, forcing them open. My eyes beheld the Pearly Gates. Past that was the streets paved with gold and the many mansions that Christ discussed with his followers. As my eyes beheld several of the sights, I noticed that there was something strangely odd about it all. No one was present. I expected to at the very least see old faces once I woke up in Heaven. Instead, the streets were empty. Rather than hearing angelic singing, everything was bereft of the slightest murmur. I walked around the barren streets for quite some time. Right when I turned to head back, a low audible sound crept into my ears.

My legs tightened. Without a second thought, I sprinted towards the site of the audible noises. It took me to the very heart of the city. Right when I was about to make a right turn, my eyes locked onto something. In the middle of the square was the throne of God. The exact White Throne that was attributed to God and the exact one where it was held that he would judge the living and the dead. It was awe-inspiring. It was everything that I was taught to believe. The throne glowed with pure, white light. But with all that breathtaking majesty aside, something felt horribly wrong about it. The throne flickered feverishly. The sounds became more audible. Curiosity crept into me, and I slowly made for the throne.

What I saw made me question everything.

The throne itself throbbed as if it were a nightcrawler thrashing on a fishing hook. Upon closer inspection, I saw the faintest of humanoid attributes on the throne. The throne of God pulsated rapidly, the screaming nearly deafening me. Before my eyes, faces emerged from the throne. Each one bore the same look of terror. Their eyes were wide, almost as if they were observing something, but at a long distance. I could feel the heat of their glares on me, as though they were trying to telepathically beg me to put them out of their misery. They screamed in unison, their shrieks sounding like legions of malfunctioning sirens. I looked further at the throne, seeing that it had a fleshy appearance. It was as though the throne itself was one living creature. The tortured beings frothed at the mouth, making inhuman noises, the sounds of absolute hell.

I could make out that an innumerable number of bodies that comprised the Great White Throne of Judgment. Limbs littered the throne in different places. The light began to fade revealing the throne to be nothing more than a putrid-smelling mass of red meat. Whoever these people were, they had been conjoined. Something must have broken them down and put them back together with gallons of glue. I felt myself nearly vomiting if it were not for a voice.

“Welcome to Heaven.”

I looked up at the throne of God and saw a gargantuan figure sitting in the chair, as though it were completely unaware of the horrid screaming coming from its throne. The voice wasn’t as loud as I’d imagine it to be. It sounded as soft as the wind, but it didn’t comfort me in the slightest. This being was submerged in blinding light. I searched for a semblance of a face on the large entity, but I couldn’t. The further I looked on this creature, I felt a terror bubble from the deepest parts of my stomach. Somehow, I managed to choke a word out.

“Are, are you God?”

While I couldn’t see it, I could tell that the being before me had a wide smile across its face.

“I have many names,” it stated in the same eerie giddiness. “I am YHWH, Jehovah.”

What he said shocked me the most.

“I am also Zeus. Thor. I am Shiva. I am all of the gods that humanity had willfully believed in.”

I stood there, my jaw agape. “But, but, God, what about my life work?”

God chuckled. “You humans never cease to amaze me with the utter ridiculousness of what you’d be willing to believe.”

God had a good chuckle over it as if I had told him one of the funniest jokes in over a thousand years. The joke being my former life. After laughing fervently, God paused to feel the texture of the throne.

“It is a fine throne, isn’t it?” God asked.

My hopes of God somehow being ignorant of the deathly screeches of its throne died at that moment. This god almost got ecstasy from hearing millions – maybe trillions – of souls being melded together as a large blob of disharmony. The urge to vomit arose again.

“Do you know what this throne is made of?” God asked.

I shook my head, not wanting to know. But God was, of course, going to disclose the texture of it regardless of whether it intrigued me or not.

“Years ago, I created the angels,” God shuffled in its chair before continuing, “they were always meant to worship me, but after eons of feeding off their praise, it wasn’t enough for me.”

I flinched as I expected more vivid descriptions from God.

“When I created man in my own image, the angels didn’t want them to suffer as they had.” God sounded noticeably angered, its voice raising an octave to emphasize it. “So, one leader rose up to rebel against me.”

“Satan,” I said.

God scoffed. “Because of their betrayal, I decided the best way to punish them is to condemn them to a life of endless suffering, one of which would make them regret being birthed from the fires.”

I nearly fell backward at the realization. God’s throne was comprised of the fused bodies of nearly a third of the angels who rebelled against him and failed. Now they were being made to be eternally tortured. I tried to rationalize God’s justifications for this disproportionate retribution, but no logical answer would suffice. There were no excuses for what God had done. But the one thing that made me more curious was what became of the human souls of those who had died. If what God had said was true, then the afterlife as we know is just one inescapable nightmare. God apparently read my thoughts, and before my eyes, God conjured up legions of souls. Each soul lacked pupils in their eyes and their skins were a pale grey. They reminded me of the many zombie-related movies in olden times. But they were all people I knew in life.

The one that caught my eyes the most was a small figure. It tilted back and forth; its mouth open as though it were inciting a chant. I could tell that short stature from anywhere; it was Theodore. I ran to my son and hugged him tightly. I opened my eyes fully expecting the hug to be reciprocated, but instead, I felt the slight nibble on my neck. I looked at my son, to my horror, he started to bite down into my neck in a blind frenzy. I pried him off, tossing him to the ground, only for him to emotionlessly pick himself up and stand with the other souls.

I turned to look at God in anger. “That’s not my son.”

God giggled. He merely looked at the souls before him, as though he were an artist marveling at their work.

“No, he isn’t. And he never was.”

Each human soul was a former shell of themselves lacking even the slightest characteristic that made them lively. They had instead become inhuman slaves without their free will. At the time of death, God stripped each soul of their individuality, making them worship him forevermore. This would be the fate of untold many people who either followed the Christian faith or any religion for that matter. It seemed to not even matter if you chose to not pursue a religion because I saw many of my former atheist and agnostic debaters in the masses. It all made sense for why God would masquerade as different gods: the more people he got to believe him, he would bathe in their worship until their time of death when they would be made into the perfect followers by being removed from anything that made them human. This was the fate of my son, my father, and my grandfather. Even if I chose against the profession of a reverend, it wouldn’t have mattered much to God because he’d convert me the moment, I stepped foot in his kingdom.

I felt myself getting lifted into the air against my will. I levitated over the masses of souls and I was back to God and his revolting throne. While again I couldn’t see a discernible expression on his face, something told me that it was smirking.

“Well, time for you to join the heavenly choir, shall we?”

Not expecting an answer, I felt a surge of God’s power penetrate my body and consume me. I screamed in excruciating pain as my world suddenly started to grow dark. I tried to fight against the conversion with all my might, but my rationalization was starting to melt away. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think a cognitive thought. I used the last of my consciousness to curse God’s name before sudden darkness filled my sights.

[thepineapplejuicer]

Imagine… being one of Professor Wagner’s upper-class students and both of you being secretly in love with each other. Warnings: This will be a smuttier imagine than I usually write. I did want to change it up a bit today, but I made a fluffier post that you can read here. Thank you for reading and your support, I hope you enjoy this one. contains some smut below the line (belt) The upper-class students flood the theater room finding seats next to their friends near the back to avoid answering questions. You, however, sat right in the middle of the very front row. You twirled your pencil in your fingers anxiously waiting for the puff of smoke to cover the stage and stain your clothes with fiery brimstone and Professor Wagner’s peppermint cologne for the rest of the day. You’ve had a crush on The Amazing Nightcrawler since he saved you and a handful of students from Striker’s lab, but even being legally over 18 Mr. Wagner was still at least 10 years older than you. The students quieted down as the lights dimmed and a German accent emanated from the theater speakers, “Today we will be learning about…” A purple cloud of smoke comes from the back of the stage, followed by Professor Wagner doing front flips before landing perfectly in a battle stance, “Dramatic entrances.” He puffs out his chest, his skintight red uniform wrapping neatly against each muscle. You bite the eraser on your pencil to keep your arousal in check. It doesn’t help at all when Professor Wagner looks down at you, showing his sexy smile lines as he grins devilishly. “The most important thing about entrances is to play to your strengths, show a little snip bit of your powers.” Mr. Wagner explains while roaming around the stage. You hear constant whispering behind you but are too engulfed in every move Mr. Wagner makes that you don’t turn around. “We will be practicing ways to make a PRACTICAL entrance when in battle. Believe it or not, these things speak to your confidence and that will aid you or be your downfall when encountering an enemy. Let us begin with a few tips and a basic understanding of what I mean by practical,” Something bumps your shoulder as you are about to write in your notebook. Bobby’s hand sticks between the red checkered cushion seats holding a folded piece of lined paper. You grab it cautiously by one of the hanging pieces torn at the edge and unfold it. Your eyes widen and you glance at Mr. Wagner to ensure he hadn’t seen it. On the paper was a class poll and the question read: Would you do Mr. Wagner? Checkmark for yes or X for no. You couldn’t believe your eyes, but your curiosity made you skim through the answers of others. Not too surprised that the page was lined with check marks. It was just a fun little game. You hadn’t heard Mr. Wagner slow his talking. What was the harm of signing it as well? You are about to make your own check mark with a blue colored pen when something poked the back of the paper. You look up seeing the spade of a tail yank the paper from your hands. “Apparently, this lesson is not interesting enough for you, Miss/Mr. Y/N. What is it that has your attention so I can-” Mr. Wagner fans out the paper and he is as silent as the rest of the class as he reads over it. He looks at you with disapproving eyes and folds the paper back up, slipping it in his suit’s pocket. “Mr./Miss Y/N, I will see you in my office after class.” You shrink into your seat as you hear snickers from behind you and bobby’s soft tone, “Sorry!” You glare back at him and spend the rest of class dreading the bell to sound. RING It came sooner than you thought and quietly, you gathered your things among the other students. Ducking behind everyone until you hear your name roll from a sturdy German tongue, “Not you, Mr./Miss Y/N.” You turn sheepishly towards Professor Wagner who signals you to come, “My office, now.” The students give you their prayers and you walk up the side of the stage, watching Mr. Wagner’s tail sway behind his extraordinarily tall, muscled back. His hands were locked behind him until he stopped at his office door and held it open for you. You sit immediately in the chair in front of his desk and hear the blinds flip closed. The piece of paper is thrown on the desk in front of you as Professor Wagner takes his own seat in the swiveling chair. He places his elbows on the desk and peers down your body. “This is extremely inappropriate, Liebling.” He says flirtatiously. “You think I would be so careless, Kurt?” You ask, secretly enjoying the sound of his first name smooth over your taste buds. “No, but I am curious…” You feel his spaded tail come under your chair and wrap around your thigh, “What you would have marked on the paper.” You smile and pull your core closer to Kurt’s tail, “There wasn’t an option for ‘been there done that’.” “My Liebling, you’re torturing me in class. You know this, ja? Wearing those clothes, forcing me to watch others flirt with you… it’s killing me.” You boldly get out of your chair and enjoy the soft release of Kurt’s tail sliding off you as he watches you move around him. You straddle him and feel his soft fur between your fingers, “Maybe I can make it up to you…” You kiss along his jawline and down to the sweet spot of his neck. His breath hitches as you feel three fingers dig into your thighs. “Y/N…” “I know, we can’t” You roll your eyes aware of his fear in the relationship. “No… I think I’m falling in love with you.” You look into his yellow eyes and see nothing but the truth in them. Everything seems to stop around you as he holds you close to him, “After the pool…” You remember the first night you shared together when you had been night swimming and Kurt had joined you. What started as a casual swim with your steamy professor turned into something more intimate than either of you could have imagined. You pull out of the sweat and moan infested memories as Kurt continues to talk, “I haven’t gone a night without dreaming of you, a meal without tasting you, or a shower without feeling you. If you would want someone like me… someone older and mutated, I will not be able to let you go.” “Kurt… I want to be with you. Even if it has to be a secret for now.” You kiss him with no fear until the door begins to creak open.

[thatfairyfangirl]

Fly With Me Chapter 1

A/N: dialogue is spoken in German translated to English for easy reading

You grew up in Circus Vargas in the states. Your mother a tamer and your father a juggler. You were well versed in a little bit of it all… but by far your heart was with the trapeze. Your high flying acts entranced young and old alike, only made all the more mesmerizing by the Monarch butterfly like wings that grew from your back. But as wonderful as your home was, as much as you loved your extended circus family, you always dreamed of seeing Europe. This is what brought you to the Munich Circus.

“What is in there?” You asked your new employer looking over to the old circus wagon off to the side away from all the excitement of the set up. You didn't think old rickety things like that were still used...these days moving trucks were so much more practical.

The old German glanced over to the wagon. “Oh, that's just where we keep The Nightcrawler.” Your german must be worse than you thought...you couldn't place what a Nightcrawler would be outside of the worms.

“Why would you keep worms like that?” You asked as you passed by the wagon, finding yourself peering into the curtain to find a pair of glowing amber eyes staring back at you. Your eyes widened as you rushed away from the cage like wagon, your heart racing. “That….that's a person?!”

Kurt's heart sunk hearing the startled question. Yet another newcomer to their circus family who seemed as if they would fit right in with the world around him. He often pondered that very question himself. “That's Nightcrawler.” Your employer answered as he gestured for you to follow. “He's one of the sideshows.” You felt your heart climb into your throat at the thought as you tugged your long coat tighter around yourself, making sure to keep hidden what was underneath.

“Is...is that where he lives?” You asked with a touch of pity and fear...not fear of the creature, but of what your fate might be. You already signed the contract for two seasons and this was only day one of preseason for the first. You never dreamed any circus would treat their sideshow performers like animals. Back home even those who looked more animal than human were always shown just as much respect as anyone else.

“I think so.” He turned back seeing terror in your eyes before laughing a deep hearty laugh. Though you had walked from the Nightcrawler wagon the laugh carried in the early spring air landing on his ears, cutting deeply at what little pride he had left. “Oh don't worry. Your accommodations are much better than the demon's.” He assured you as he lead you on to the row of mobile homes. “These two are for the aerial artists.” He pointed to the two in the middle of the row. “You will be staying in this one.” He clarified pointing to the larger of the two.

~ ~ ~ ~

You looked around the cookhouse tent finding it all just a bit intimidating. The tables buzzed with conversation as all the performers conversed in what felt like every language. In the back of your mind you wondered if this is what a new kid in school would feel like. Though you were sure you would soon get to know your peers, you didn't feel comfortable just inviting yourself into someone else's conversation. With a smile of relief you saw one person sitting alone in the back. At least you thought he was a person. With his long, pointed ears poking past tussled midnight blue hair and a skin tone to match, you wondered. But then again, if anyone knew what was under your coat, you were sure they'd wonder the same about you. “Can I sit here?” You asked with a friendly enough smile, your eyes following the long tail slowly oscillating behind him. His amber eyes looked up from his brats to you and you felt as if they were digging in to your soul. But he didn't answer. “Umm...do you speak...?” Though you tried to remember the German word for English, your mind blanked on the word as your eyes traveled from the tail to the three fingers holding his food.

“Oh, don't bother with the Nightcrawler.” A thin muscular man said to you when he noticed you were about to sit with the blue thing. “Sure, they say he's a person, but I mean really...barely counts, right?” You turned to face a pair of hazel eyes and long brown hair tied neatly into a low ponytail to show off a chiseled jaw. “You're the new aerial act, right?” You gave a nod. “Come on, we've got room at our table.” With a defeated sigh you gave the demon a slight wave before going off to where you had been invited.

“Oh, aren't you just the sweetest thing trying to make friends with the Nightcrawler!” One of the girls Kurt knew as Olivia at the table squealed with glee as you sat next to her.

"Oh don't act so surprised," Maxx chuckled, "you know everyone gets curious about that thing when they first get here." Thing? But he wasn't a thing...he was a person. Hearing the word you let out a dejected sigh before glancing back. Kurt looked up to you, furrowing his brow in confusion...were you really trying to make friends? No. He quickly pushed the wishful thinking from his mind. It had to be part of a larger joke. Surely someone had sent you over there to poke fun at him. It had to be.

“Why do you call him Nightcrawler? He doesn't seem very worm like.” You asked curiously as you followed the son of the owner you recognized as the show's ringmaster, Maxx. Kurt sat forward as you spoke, watching you in your curiosity of him. “I heard you portray him as a demon. Why not Mephistopheles or Beelzebub?” You glanced back toward Kurt seeing the yellow eyes focus on his dinner. Your words stung at his heart and soul. Of course you would be joining in on their cruelty. You only took your eyes off him a second or two to look around the table before looking back to find him gone. "Doesn't he have an actual name?"

“I’m not sure honestly, he’s been here for about forever. Long before my family owned the circus. I heard he used to have some kind of act, but really, something that looks like him belongs in the sideshow.” His answer tugged uncomfortably at your mind. They never learned his name?

“So this is how you treat mutants here? They must be in the sideshow?” You asked with folded brows, finding everything that came out of Maxx’s mouth so offensive.

“Just ones that look like him.” He answered with a shrug. All those around you laughed at the beastly creature as you just picked at your food, feeling very sure you didn't like that kind of joke. Back in Circus Vargas everyone treated everyone else like family...human or mutant. You were raised among the strange and unusual. Someone looking like him was as natural as the next door neighbor to you.

“What’s wrong with looking like him?” You asked timidly as you poked at your food, fearing to out yourself...but with such tight living quarters you knew it would happen sooner rather than later anyway. “I mean...look where we are. Where on earth is there greater acceptance for the strange and unusual than the circus?”

“Yeah, whatever...” The ringmaster said glancing back to the mutant, finding he had vanished leaving behind nothing but a puff of smoke and a half eaten meal. “So, I’m going to need to know how I’m introducing you. All dad said was that you do the trapeze.”

You nodded. “ And Aerial silks or hoop...pretty much anything high flying. Our ringmaster back home would announce me as The Fairy.” You explained as you stood to shed your coat. With a thwip your large monarch butterfly like wings opened up. 

You flitted them back and forth already deciding if this was how mutants were treated here then you would rather break the contract now and go back to where you came from. “With these what else really could I do?” You chuckled nervously praying that you wouldn’t be put in a cage like the blue one.

He nodded, the wheels in his mind working. “I can work with that.” His hazel eyes looked back to the empty table Kurt often sat alone at, realizing with you they could bring that otherworldly feature back in to the bigtop to sell more tickets. “Have you ever done a partner act?”

You arched a brow sitting back down. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, what if we put you and Nightcrawler together… The fairy and the demon...a high flying no net act?” He offered picturing the novelty of two mutants looking like mythic creatures drawing a crowd. You say for a moment mulling over the idea, your thoughts drifting back to the last time you took a partner for a no not act.

You drew in a long breath as you remembered the look in your old partner's eyes as he fell watching your wings beat with all their might before he slipped from your fingers and plummeted to the ground...he never did fully recover from that day. "No. Absolutely not." You answered shaking your head. You were already living with the guilt of one partner's career ending because of you, you didn't want another. “If he falls, my wings are not strong enough to save him.” You added, not knowing the true power he holds.

They all laughed as Olivia shook her head resting a hand on your shoulder. “Oh, don't worry about the Nightcrawler.” The comment left a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. How could she say that?! Safety for all performers should always take priority!

“Oh my God!” You exclaimed as you stood having lost your appetite. “He's still a person! Do you guys not have the concept that a circus is a family here?”

Throwing your coat back on you stormed off toward the practice area, looking to swing your frustration away.

[racefortheironthrone]

Thoughts on House of X #5

Time for the issue where HoX/PoX horniness kicked off!

Society Comma We Live in One:

Time to talk about an issue that definitely merited the coverted red issue status. The issue starts with Magneto and Polaris having a dialogue on society that comes off as a bit writerly, more about Hickman creating an opportunity for him to talk about his ideas about society than what Magneto and Polaris would actually be saying to one another (unless Polaris just arrived on Krakoa and is being given the tour, but that doesn’t quit fit her dialogue).

To start with, Magneto is making an argument that “the one good thing humanity taught us was society,” but attaches this to the concept of human beings shifting from settler-gatherer to agrarian cultures. Notably, in Magneto’s version, this shift also has implications for national identity, what with the whole “this is a good place - it is...ours, and from this land we will not be moved.” 

At the same time, it would be highly inaccurate to suggest that hunter-gatherer cultures don’t have societies or engage in (what Magneto is really getting at here) cooperation. The main difference between hunter-gatherer and agrarian modes of cooperation is that, by creating substantial surpluses that allow more people to not engage in food production, the agrarian mode enables a new form of cooperation based on specialization.

All of this applies pretty directly to Krakoa and the resurrection ceremony that Magneto and Polaris are witnessing: as long as mutantdom was constantly fighting for survival (the time when “the greatest necessary traits in mutantdom” would be “strength and aggressiveness”), it was essentially stuck in a hunter-gatherer paradigm. But once mutantdom established themselves on Krakoa, “intelligence, ingenuity, and creativity” started to come to the fore: the Krakoan flowers and medications, Doug’s interface and the resulting Krakoan systems, KASA, Cerebro, and now a new one. Contrary to certain implications from the Librarian in Powers of X #6, rather than simply relying on their “natural” mutant powers, Krakoan society is technologizing them. 

The “Five” are a great example of this process at work. I’ll get more in detail on how this particular Krakoan biomachinery works when we get to the infographic (which brings together all of the information into one place), but there’s some more subtle details at work here:

I love how the (Fab) Five’s social/cultural status is prefigured by their on-page introduction, which looks like nothing so much as the slow-motion group shot from Resevoir Dogs combined with a supergroup pose complete with spotlights.

As many people have pointed out, Hickman’s reinterpretation of Goldballs’ “seemingly benign and pointless power” shows how a different social and technological context completely changes the way we think about the value of different x-genes. 

As someone who’s spent their fair share of time studying the history of science, I do like how much the Five’s introduction re-emphasizes themes of cooperation and specialization rather than the Lone Genius myth: even with Goldballs’ limitless “eggs,” he still needs Proteus to make the eggs viable, and so on and so forth. As Magneto puts it, ““separate...they are great mutants, but only significant, not transcendant. Together..."

An interesting commonality in Krakoan biotechnology is the use of psychics and other mutants - in this case, Hope plays a similar role to the Cuckoos in KASA - to allow the group to work in unison without the need for the literal hiveminds of the machine consciousness. Something to keep one’s eye on.  

At the same time, the Five’s biomachine relies on two other forms of technology of varying levels of technology. As the red diamond on the syringe confirms, Mister Sinister provides the DNA to grow the husks and (and this is one of the Big Reveals of the issue) Cerebro downloads the mind into the body. 

Playing her role in the Socratic dialogue admirably, Lorna raises the vital question of whether these clones are “just their bodies...not them.” What’s really interesting about Magneto’s response is that he’s not just talking about downloading the mind of the mutant, but also “the essence..the anima...[the] soul” of the mutant, which implies a pretty strongly spiritual conception of Cerebro’s primary purpose. (It’s an interestingly monist approach to the question of the soul as a form of data that can be copied, uploaded, downloaded, etc. I wonder what Nightcrawler thinks of this?)

Xavier’s statement that “even knowing I could bring you back...a part of me dies when any of you do” really backs up what I was talking about re: Xavier’s motivation for changing his worldview. Resurrection doesn’t change the emotional impact of death, especially since the system requires Xavier to be psychically linked to the X-Men he’s sending into harm’s way, so that he’s experiencing all their pain and suffering. This also reads quite differently in the wake of Powers of X #6, because it suggests that (quite aside from his broader plans for Krakoa), Xavier’s shift to being even more of a pragmatist has a lot to do with years of compounding trauma.

BTW, a clear sign that there is a high degree of continuity of consciousness going on is that Scott’s first thought after being resurrected is “did it work?” For all intents and purpsoes, this is the Scott Summers who died on Sol’s Forge.

We See Them, Do We Know Them?

I’m going to take this opportuntity to get on my high horse for a second and take parts of the X-fandom to task. While I wouldn’t go so far as to accuse anyone of arguing in bad faith, I do think there has been a tendency to not grapple with the text in an honest way when it comes to certain characters or themes, with the Resurrection Ceremony as Exhibit A in this tendency.

Rather than being about cults or nakedness (more on both of those soon), what this scene is actually about is the coming together of the foundational aspects of Krakoan society/culture, and how two groups of heroes - the five and the strike team - will be treated in this new world. 

As we might expect, there are both parallels and differences in how the Krakoan masses treat and are expected to treat these groups: as we’ll learn later from the Resurrection Infographic, the Five are “universally revered...as cultural paragons [something sacred to be treasured].” 

Storm’s exhortation provides the text that is supposed to shape and give purpose to this popular attitude, that the Krakoan masses should “love them...for they have righted the wrongs of men and defeated our great enemy death.” As with many RL human cultures, historic grievances are used to define in-group and out-group, but at the same time, the Five’s “miracle” is defined as a victory over “our great enemy death,” (which neatly ties together anti-mutant violence, mutant-specific epidemic diseases, all the forces of the “on the brink of extinction” stories we’ve seen for almost twenty years). 

Given that the Five are responsible for A. reversing mutant genocides which have directly and indirectly affected all mutants in profoundly traumatic ways B. making mutants functionally immortal, it would be utterly unprecedented if a cultural and social change of this magnitude did not have some element of spiritual or religious feeling behind it. World religions have been founded on far less than this.

By contrast, the Strike Team are described in more secular terms. For removing the existential threat of Mother Mold (let alone Nimrod) which had loomed over mutant society, Storm describes them as “heroes of Krakoa,” but not so much cultural heroes as secular military heroes who have made the ultimate sacrifice for their nation: “through their deaths...a great victory was won for our people.” 

Another sign of difference is that the Strike Team’s public reception is conditional, requiring a further ceremony where the community asks “we see them, but do we know them?” I love the way that Hickman turns the meta-question of whether these resurrected mutants are the real thing or “just clones” into a cultural question. 

Thus, he has Storm act as the Master of Ceremonies for a ritual that’s all about recognition and confirmation of individual and social identity, and uses X-comics continuity nods that readers will recognize in the same way that Storm does as the clues:

Cyclops remembers losing the leadership to Storm in UX #139, and I like this particular deep cut because it’s a great contrast to their present-day respect and affected, and because Scott’s inability to commit to his marriage to Madelyn Pryor will help kick off Inferno.

Similarly, Jean recalling line-for-line what she said to Storm in UX #242 works especially well because it’s a line about asserting your identity in the wake of death, resurrection, and the existential questions of cloning, and because once again it recalls Inferno. I’m not sure whether it’s a good sign or a bad sign that Hickman gets Jean’s voice better here when he’s quoting earlier authors rather than writing original dialogue.

And finally, in a great Rule of Three joke format, Monet breaks the pattern by going for a character beat - Monet has strong personal space boundaries - rather than a deep continuity callback.  

Having done my close-reading due diligence, let me get to the point: this is not a cult, and you don’t need to take much in the way of Anthropology coursework to see that. Call-and-response between an officiant and the congregation are incredibly common across many religions, as are ceremonies in which the individual’s membership in the group is confirmed, and so on and so forth. If you want to describe this as a cult, or cult-like, you need to point to qualities that are specific to cults as opposed to other forms of religious activity.

Similarly, I find it quite strange to describe Storm as acting out-of-character in this sequence. Storm, who’s all about giving speeches at the top of her lungs, who’s been worshipped as a goddess in multiple countries, would have a problem with giving a sermon and carrying out a basic ritual? This is the sort of thing that makes me think that a lot of these comments are just people trying to disguise personal preference as story critique.

The scene ends with pulling back to see Xavier and Magneto reacting to all of this, and their feeling of tempered joy is a pretty good synecdoche for how things stand at the end of HoX/Pox: while the “good work” is clearly a cause for joy, it’s clearly at a very early and vulnerable stage, and there’s a feeling of determination that it has to continue “until it is done.” Interestingly, both Charles and Erik view this aspect of Krakoa as more “foundational” than any other element, and I wonder whether this could be part of why they don’t quite see eye-to-eye with Moira any more.

Another sign that things are not as secure as they’d like is that Krakoa still hasn’t gotten over the hurdle of UN recognition, which requires getting around a veto from a permanent member of the Security Council.

Resurrection Infographic:

So let’s talk about the Resurrection process, now that we have all of the information in front of us.

The Infographic really confirms that Mister Sinister is absolutely crucial to the Genetic Base working - “without this, we have nothing.” But given that we learn in Powers of X #6 that this was very much in opposition to Moira’s wishes, I wonder how the original plan envisioned this working. I wonder whether Magneto’s statement to Emma Frost in Powers of X #5 that “we are not ahead of ourselves...we are woefully behind” suggests a motive. Mister Sinister already had a comprehensive DNA database on the go, they might have gone to him because they wanted to accelerate the time table for reversing the Genoshan genocide.

At the same time, you can already see how Sinister has become the snake in the garden. At the moment, Xavier and Magneto have “limited...current mutant modifications...to “optimal aging,” but we can already see Sinister’s influence in the line “it is believed that in the future, designer modifications will be possible.” Unless they are very, very careful, this is how the chimera singularity could topple all of this into the abyss of the singularity.

The Five:

As I discussed above, each of the Five are a crucial element of the overall process.

Fabio Medina (Goldballs): produces limitless eggs for limitless husks. Without Goldballs, the resurrection process would be extremely limited in how many people could be brought back at any time by all kinds of resource constraints; with him, the process can be turned into one of mass-production.

Kevin MacTaggart (Proteus): turns unviable eggs into viable eggs; without Proteus, Goldballs’ innovation would be effectively stillborn. Kevin’s presence here is also a strong indicator that this was part of Moira’s plan, so as with so much in HoX/PoX what we’re talking about is a question of means vs. ends. 

Joshua Foley (Elixir): “kick-start[s] the process of life, initializing cell replication and husk growth.” Without Elixir, the DNA might sit dormant within the egg; with Elixir, you have a bridge between the raw building blocks of life and the end product of a viable husk. 

Eva Bell (Tempus): “temporally mature[s] a husk to a desired age.” This is potentially an under-appreciated aspect of the whole process: without Tempus, you’d still have to wait decades for resurrected mutants to come to maturity and all throughout that time, the process would be incredibly vulnerable; with Tempus, mutants are brought back to life as fully-grown adults capable of doing their part for Krakoan society. 

Hope Summers (Hope): has the more nebulous task of “enhancing and synergizing...to ensure the success of each resurrection.” As Magneto explains, resurrection is “delicate, almost impossible work.” Hope’s unique power set allows her not only to boost the powers of the rest of the five, but also to improve coordination and thus quality control, so that the overall process has a success rate of 100%.  

As we can see already, this is a system with a lot of irreplacable parts, which means a bunch of potential points of failure. No wonder, then, that Krakoan minds are at work trying to overcome these problems. We already see that “Synch or Mimic” have been floated as “upgrades/extensions/stand-ins” for the Five, which suggests that they’re already thinking about ways to improve functionality by adding to the “circuit” or about ways to maintain service if one of the Five needs to be replaced. 

Similarly, I love how the “Proteus problem” shows how Resurrection is changing our perceptions of so many things in Krakoan society. From his introduction, Proteus has been shown as inherently dangerous because of the way that his powers damage his body - but with the Resurrection system, Proteus is just a mutant who happens to have a chronic illness that can be treated. One interesting question...why is Proteus’ “backup mutant husk” based on Charles Xavier? Charles isn’t his father, so it’s not a question of genetic compatibility. 

The Mind:

Here’s where we really get into the philosophy of identity. Hickman gets really emphatic here that these are not “just clones,” because the backups include “the essence of each mutant, how they think, how they feel, their memories, their very being.” 

I’m personally inclined to agree with Hickman. Even without transference of consciousness as a real thing, I don’t think a strict view of continuity of consciousness can really hold, given the fact there are plenty of breaks in said continuity - we don’t consider people who get knocked out or blackout drunk or just have a nap to no longer be the same person, so what’s the rationale for saying that any of the Strike Team aren’t the same people who they were before?

I also love how the Cerebro part of the system adds all kinds of new problems: there’s the technical complexity of scanning every mutant mind on the planet and then storing and copying that datat to “multiple redundant “cradles,” as well as new philosophical and ethical issues about what happens when you put someone’s mind in someone else’s body, etc. More on this in a bit. 

Scale:

So at least at the time that this document was written, it looks like the mutant population is back to 100,000 (although how much was the Five isn’t clear), but that there are 1 million de-powered mutants (many of whom might want to use the system to regain their powers), and 16 million mutants who were murdered and whose resurrection is a key ideological drive for Krakoa.

As Hickman points out, this brings up issues of productivity and efficiency that we’re used to seeing in industrial and technological processes. The Five’s initial rate of 200 a day would take 300 years to accomplish the goal of reversing Krakoan genocide, which is way too long a timeline.

However, it turns out that there’s a mutant version of Moore’s law: the more the Five do this, the better they get at it (with a nice nod to Wolverine, so “its estimated that capabilities could possibly reach around 30,000 a week” (or 6,000 a day), bringing the timeline down to a far more manageable decade. 

A final bottleneck: Charles Xavier “is not capable of” 6,000 daily downloads, and we already seen Krakoan minds thinking about “a workaraound or a team of telepaths” to supplement someone who’s also busy attending U.N meetings, Quiet Council sessions, plotting world domination, etc.

On a policy wonk side note, I was trying to figure out how Hickman worked out these numbers, and I realized that his math assumes that Krakoa has a five day work-week. As we’ll see in House of X #6, there are major open questions about what kind of economic policy (and thus, what kind of society) this new nation-state will have. Good to see that Actual 19th Century Robber Baron Sebastian Shaw isn’t getting his own way.

One particularly odd thing about Krakoan biomachinery, according to “extensive testing,” the Five don’t actually experience “exertion,” but rather a “blissful experience” of self-actualization. This suggests the psychological equivalent of a perpetual motion machine - rather than requiring more and more labor, the damn thing requires less and less and produces “total fulfillment” as a byproduct. Weird.

Another interesting side effect is that the Five have become “an inseparable family unit” who are undergoing a process of symbiosis - given all the discussion of mechanical hiveminds, it’s worth wondering whether we’re seeing a biological one forming and to what extend is individuality being maintained.

A final, slightly odd note: this Infographic describes the Five’s socio-cultural status as that of “cultural paragons” rather than “something achievable through works,” even though the Five are explicitly described as having carried out “good works.” So what gives?

Resurrection Protocol:

One last bottleneck: the whole process seems to take at least 42 and as much as 52 hours to complete. Although they can clearly work on multiple eggs in one batch, getting that figure down would no doubt be useful in further increasing productivity.

An interesting sign of the cultural/philosophical impacts of the system: Krakoan society now has “fears regarding duplication” of an explicit moral character, and thus requires an elaborate system of confirmation to bring someone back from the dead. Thus, we start to see the formation of mutant law-enforcement entities to deal with “mutant missing persons and suspected deaths and murders,” which is presumably going to be X-Factor rather than X-Force as initially believed (since X-Force turns out to be the intelligence service instead).

A Grateful Nation:

Speaking of the burdens of statecraft, the scene shifts to the aftermath of the U.N recognition vote, where it emerges that Emma Frost used her telepathy to push the Russian ambassador to abstain rather than veto, which Xavier is ok with. Krakoa is now an internationally-recognized nation-state in good standing, something that previous mutant nations never quite managed. 

This gave some parts of the fandom a good deal of trouble, but let me say as someone who’s taken a couple courses in diplomatic history, this is really quite mild stuff compared to the usual run of vote selling, wiretapping, blackmail, threats of economic or military retaliation, and other kinds of skullduggery and corruption. The world of nation-states is not one of moral purity.

Also, if we’re talking about characters being in and out of character, as much as Charles Xavier has been described as an idealist when it comes to his ultimate ends, he’s always been a pragmatist when it comes to his means when it comes to psychic powers. Mental compulsion, altering or erasing memories, mind-wiping people into mental vegetables - as long as it’s for the greater good. 

I’m curious what Emma Frost’s reward will be. This scene explicitly comes after she made her bargain with Xavier and Magneto for a fifty-year monopoly for the Hellfire Trading Company and three seats on the Quiet Council, so I wonder what this bonus will be.

Mutant Diplomacy Infographic:

Speaking of the moral ambiguity of international relations, we learn from this infographic that “all current mutant diplomacy...is dependent on relationships with human nations centering on their need for mutant pharmaceuticals.” On the one hand, it’s better than basing your diplomacy on military aid. On the other hand, it’s notable that Krakoa isn’t building its diplomacy on the basis of human rights or cultural exchange or other elements of “soft power,” it’s all very transactional. (It’s also not a good sign that “nations that have rejected a trade treaty with Krakoa are considered to be naturally adversarial.)

We then get a list of non-treaty nations. Some of these inclusions make sense, others are a bit puzzling, and I have some questions about why certain nations didn’t make the list.

Asia:

Why just Iran in the Middle East? OPEC should be losing their minds about the potential for Krakoan portals to undermine the value of oil. Likewise, plenty of Middle Eastern regimes might be worried about other ethnic minorities using the Krakoan precedent to redouble their own pushes for national independence. And if it’s religious ideology, why is it only a Shia issue and not a Sunni issue?

Madripoor: given where Krakoa is located, this is probably an issue of being afraid of a new power in their sphere of influence. Also, Madripoor has tended to get up to a lot of mutant-related crimes, so they’d probably be worried about this.

North Korea: this being listed as an ideological issue is a bit strange. The official state ideology of North Korea is really peculiar, even among putatively Communist regimes, so it’s hard to tell 

Europe:

I imagine the E.U’s role in negotiating trade deals probably is responsible for the relative lack of European nations on the list, but I’m surprised that none of the right-wing populist governments that have sprung up in central/eastern Europe in recent years who aren’t particularly friendly to real world minorities wouldn’t have an issue with a powerful nation of mutants.

Latveria: probably because Doom is a paranoid, egomaniacal autocrat who pursues economic autarky generally. I am curious, however, about other Marvel-specific nation states - we know that Namor isn’t going to go to Krakoa, but what is Atlantis’ foreign policy on this issue? What do the Inhumans think? Etc.

Russi: as we’ve seen from House of X #1, Russia fears a new global superpower. What’s interesting is we don’t see them exerting any successful influence on Central Asian or Baltic or ex-Soviet eastern European nations. 

South America:

Brazil: is this Bolsanaro's cultural conservatism at work or something else? Because...

Venezuela: is kind of on the opposite end of the spectrum from Brazil’s current government, so it would be odd to see them on the same side of this issue. The only thing I can think of is that this might be due to Chavezista anti-imperialism. Because...

Santo Marco: contrary to what Magneto said in House of X #1, mutants have not been entirely free of the sins of conquest and imperialism, and in one of his first appearances, Magneto conquered the Republic of Santo Marco and ruled it in an extremely brutal fashion. That’s the kind of thing people remember for a long time, so I’m not surprised that you see some South American countries taking a negative view of Krakoa as a result.

Terra Verde: Similarly, Terra Verde’s government was briefly overthrown by the supervillain Diablo, and although mutants were not involved, they may be generally wary of superpower-led nation states. 

Central America:

Honduras: it’s not that I think it’s implausible, but what makes Honduras different from other Central American countries on this issue?

Africa:

This is where we get a potentially really juicy plot hook. As late as X-Men Red, Wakanda has been generally positive towards mutants, especially since not only does T’challa have a personal relationship with Storm, but in the current run of Black Panther, Storm has been popularly worshipped as Hadari Yao, the Walker of Clouds. 

Given that Wakanda is seen as a threat because “they do not need mutant drugs,” this may be a case of Krakoan/Moira’s paranoia that Wakanda’s advanced technology and self-sufficiency might mean that the post-human revolution might start there. 

At the same time, the fact that the rest of the “Wakandan economic protectorate” also reject a trade treaty might suggest that we’re just seeing a simple story of nation-state competition for spheres of influence.

Krakoa Is For All Mutants:

In a very straight-forward example of X-Men dissenting from Xavier’s plan, we see Wolverine - who’s about to take up a significant post in Krakoa’s national security infrastructure - has a big enough problem with the amnesty program that he mentions wanting to beat “Chuck” to death for general smugness and condescension. 

A whole bunch of supervillains cross-over, but while some of them will become significant as members of the Quiet Council or Captains, Apocalypse is framed as the most significant one, because he’s the only one with a pre-existing connection to Krakoa

Indeed, he goes full Disney Princess on page 27 because Krakoa “knows me, and I Krakoa,” which might be a big problem later on if Krakoan’s earlier and deeper connections to Apocalypse come into conflict with its more recent alliances with Cypher and Xavier.

At the same time, at least for the moment Apocalypse is the most ideologically on board with Xavier’s broader project, seeing it as the culmination of his life’s work. 

Thus, he’s happy to say the words: “we submit to the laws of this land, be what they may, and acknowledge from this day forward, we all serve a higher purpose than want or need. One people from this day forward.” It’s an oath of citizenship, but it also speaks to the conditionality of the amnesty. And there are penalties for breaking it. 

[br0ken-writes]

Smile

Ask: Hey😄 Can you write something with Jae but Vampire Au?

A/N: This has been in my ask box for fucking ever so I’m hoping whoever requested it, is still looking for this and sorry lmao. I finally got an idea for it and then like an idiot, forget it and didn’t write it down so here I am with a different (?) idea.

Word count: 2389 (Part 1)

His smile was just, so alluring. Jae liked to goof around a lot which meant he was always laughing a smiling. This wasn’t the first time his smile caught your eye but it was the first time you had noticed it looked different from anyone’s normal smile. The two of you were having just another normal day at work at the local hospital where you were both RN’s; you came to your assigned front desk in the wing of the hospital you worked at and checked your clipboard once more before handing it to the nurse working the desk, who was also your best friend when you heard him laugh. You looked up at him and your eyes landed on his smile as he threw his head back “Y/n,” Your best friend called out to you “Y/n,” She called out to you again, this time louder and even getting Jae’s attention turned towards the two of you, you quickly looked away and at her now “Yeah?” You asked and kept your eyes on her as you notice Jae took his attention off the two of you now.

“Do you like Jae or something?” She presses as she leans forward over her desk and towards you “What?” You exclaim “No,” You continue and try to awkwardly laugh it off “Well get in line sweetheart because the whole nursing team has a crush on him, even some of the doctors,” She tells you in a sassy voice, making you laugh “Oh yeah? Well, he better get in line for me because I have the same issue” You say and flip your hair over your shoulder and your friend laughs hard at you “As if” She says as she wipes a fake tear from her eye and you smack her shoulder “What so funny over here?” You hear Jae ask from behind you, making you jump in your spot and almost punch him in the face “Nothing” You say, trying to cooly play off what just happened and leans against the front desk when you phone rang, you look at the caller ID and wave you phone at Jae and your friend “Sorry, duty calls” You say simply before walking away to answer the phone.

You’re able to go almost your entire shift without running into Jae again but get trapped when you go for a quick break in the break room before your shift ends. You enter the room with a big huff and close the door behind you before dragging your feet over to the couch and plop down face-first onto it “Tired?” You suddenly hear which makes you quickly raise your head in the direction of the voice and find Jae sitting at one of the small desks eating a cup of ramen. You jump off the couch and flatten out your scrubs while clearing your throat “No, I’m fine” You say and make your way quickly towards the door when his voice stops you again “Why do I feel like you’re avoiding me?” He asks, setting down his food and folding his hands in his lap where his legs are crossed “I’m not avoiding you, I just have work to do” You turn to him and say in a monotone voice “But isn’t your shift over soon?” He asks and you look at him confused “What? The schedule is posted for everyone to see right in front of you” He nods his head towards the door and you look at it quickly before turning back to him “Yeah but you knowing that off the top of your head must mean you were paying attention to my shifts” You tell him and cross your arms.

He shrugs “I simply have a photographic memory,” He says before picking up his noodles again and taking a mouth full before asking “So, why are you avoiding me?” “It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full” You change the subject and he swallows before smirking and laughing “You know,” He laughs and sets down what sounds like a now empty cup of ramen “I don’t bite,” He says and smiles teasingly and you notice his teeth again making you approach him quickly and grab the bottom of his jaw making his cheeks puff out “Open,” You tell him in a demanding tone and he removes your hand from his face “What for? And that hurt you know” He complains and rubs where you grabbed him “Let me see your teeth, they look weird” You tell him and encourage him to open his mouth “What, are you a dentist now? My teeth are fine! I take good care of them” He says, now standing and clearing his food and cleaning the desk off “If you don’t bite then why won’t you let me see your teeth?” You press, following him around the breakroom “I just ate spicy ramen and I haven’t brushed my teeth yet, do you really want to get in my mouth now?” He teases you and you take a step away from him, now realizing how close you were following him around and how tall he actually was.

Your phone rings again and the look at the caller ID again and in this little amount of time, Jae gets a chance to get away from you “Hey, I-” You call out to him and he simply waves and leaves the room without another word. You answer your phone and do your last set of checks on your assigned patients before clocking out and heading towards the locker room to change before going home. You make sure you have everything before closing your locker and leaving the locker room only to run into Jae in the hallway “Woah there sleepy head, heading out?” Jae joked as he held your shoulder to help steady you after the collision “Yeah, I’m beat” You yawn and rub one of your eyes before looking up at him and see him softly smiling “Why are you looking at me like that? How can you be so awake this late into the night anyways” You ask him with eyebrows furrowed and rubbing your eyes again “Ah, my days just started” He says and rubs the top of your head “But you’ve been here just as long as me” You say, frustrated and push his hand away and fix your hair “They’re not overworking you, are they?” You ask him and stare him in the eyes, he takes a step away from you and just smiles “No, I’m just a nightcrawler” He whispers the last part in your ear before walking past you with another little wave, like before.

The next day, you show up for your shift and enter the breakroom to clock in before changing into your scrubs. You head straight for the sign in clock and before you punch in your number, you hear a loud snore behind you. You furrow your eyebrows and turn around to see Jae face down at his desk and drooling as he slept, you laughed a little to yourself before signing in and tiptoeing your way over to him “Jaehyung!” You yell and grab him by the shoulders, startling him awake. He sits up quickly while bearing his teeth and what sounds like hissing at you, you jump away from him and it takes him a moment to see you and release the tension in his jaw “Did you hiss at me?” You ask him, slightly amused and a little concerned, he chuckles and runs a hand through his hair while sitting back in his chair and smiling “What? No, you know how people suck in the air sometimes when they wake up? That’s what I did” He explains and you take a step towards him again, getting a chance to see his teeth before he drops the smile “Did you sharpen your K9′s?” You ask more concern in your voice than before thinking Jae had some insane fantasy “No, they’re just naturally pointy, it’s genetics” He says, standing from his seat and heading towards the fridge for a drink.

“Shouldn’t you go get dressed?” Jae said, throwing a lazy arm towards the direction of the door “Did you go home at all yesterday?” You asked and walked towards him “No, I guess I just fell asleep here, after clocking out” Jae says and scratches the back of his head as he yawns and takes a big drink of the red bull he grabbed out of the fridge “You should go home and get some sleep on a real bed instead of drinking an energy drink” You tell him and cross your hands as you stand in front of him now “Maybe take a shower too” You tell him after getting a whiff of him and taking a step back “I’m fine sweetheart, my shift starts in a couple of hours anyways” He says and leans against the fridge “At least shower and change, you stink” You tell him before leaving to change yourself.

Today was busier than normal and you finally got a short break when you were eight hours into your shift. You repeat what you did yesterday and enter the break room with a loud grunt and plop down face-first onto the couch “You’re gonna fall wrong one of these days and break your nose” You hear Jae laugh from his desk, you turn your head sideways and get more comfortable on the couch “This is my first break on my entire shift, shut up” You groan and close your eyes “Why does it seem like you’re never busy too? You always sitting around when I see you” You ask him with your eyes closed “I’m just quick with my work” He responds which makes you look at him to see him with a smug smile. You rolled your eyes at him and tried to take a quick nap before you were called out again. After a couple moments of silence in the room and you almost falling asleep, Jae spoke up “You don’t work for the next two days, right?” He asks “No, why?” You groan out as he kept you from falling asleep “Well, I’m having a party tomorrow night and was wondering if you wanted to come?” He asks which makes you now sit up and looked at him confused.

“You’re inviting me to a party at your house?” You ask for clarification and he nods “Yeah, it starts at eight” He stands, now standing and walking towards you and he sits next to you “Why are you asking me? What about all the other nurses that have crushes on you?” You ask him and he looks bashful as he laughs at your comment “Come on, aren’t we friends?” He asks, getting close to you and you move away from him “I don’t know where you got that idea?” You tell him and stand to leave the room “I’ll text you my address!” He calls after you as you leave the room. You walk up to the front desk where you friend is stationed again and she stands to quickly fix your bed head “Have a good nap?” She asks when she sits back down “I wasn’t able to get any sleep because Jae kept talking to me” You groan and lay your head on the desk “Did he ask you to a party?” You ask her but she shakes her head “No, did he ask you?” She responds “Yeah, I wonder if he’s going to ask anyone else or if he has already” You ponder, resting your hand on your hand.

Your shift finally ends another four hours later and you get off at two in the morning. You get home and do your nightly routine before heading to bed and sleeping in well into tomorrow. You finally wake up around noon the next day and make yourself some food before turning on the news “Hayden Kim, age 17 discovered missing from his home last night. This happening after the disappearance of Jihu Ra, age 10 and Insu Oh, age 15 who were also found missing from their homes-” The news anchor announced and three photos of young boys showed up on the screen with their names written under the photos; you sighed and turned off the TV, not wanting to hear the heart-wrenching story of the missing boys in your town when your phone goes off. You grab your phone and check your messages and find a new one from Jae “Parties at 8, it’s formal so wear something nice ;)” His text reads followed with another that has his address in it “What makes him think I’m gonna attend his party?” You ask yourself before setting down your phone and finishing your food.

You laze around your house and do some self-care and it gets dark before you know it. You clean your face and your phone goes off making you dry your face quickly, you answer the phone without looking at who it is “Hello?” You ask and continue to pat your face dry “Hey, I just wanted to let you know not to eat anything cause there’ll be food at the party. I’m also looking forward to seeing you” You hear Jae voice on the other line and you sigh deeply “What makes you think I’m coming? Did I ever agree?” You tell him and check the time, it was an hour till the party would start “Oh come on, don’t you want to see my house and how I live?” He eggs you on but you shake your head “Sorry to disappoint you, Jae, but I’m not one of your fangirls but I will say your smile has caught my eye and now I know why” You tell him and sit on your bed to talk with him “Oh, and what’s so special about my smile that it’s the only thing you like?” He asks “You’ve got freaky sharp K9′s!” You exclaim and you can hear him laugh on the other line “Well, come to my party and find out the real reason why they’re like this” He says and you get a confused look on your face, you’re about to respond when he adds “And wear something pretty but not too revealing” Before hanging up.

Part 2

[littlebitoffanfic]

Me Neither

Fandom: X-men Characters: Kurt, Jean, Peter, other mentioned Relationship: Kurt/reader Request: Can you do another nightcrawler/kurt one where the reader and him are dating but in secret and some antics ensue? Sitting at the table, you couldn’t help but smile when you felt the all too familiar tail slip around your leg and coil itself around. Your eyes darted to your right, where Kurt was sitting. He glanced to you, as if double checking it was okay but when he saw the soft smile on your lips, he relaxed and you both turned back to the conversation Mystique and Ororo were having. you enjoyed it when his tail wrapped around you in any form. When he would use to pull you closer, or guide you somewhere, there was a sense of intimacy which you could hid from the others. Even after 6 months of dating, neither of you wanted to tell the others. It wasn’t because you didn’t want them to know or because you were embarrassed. It was just nice having this little secret. Plus, a part of you liked the thrill. Like now. Having his tail coiled around your leg under the table. If anyone glanced under, they would see and know something was going on. But no one ever did. A small bonus of being his closest friend meant that certain things were overlooked to a degree. Like the amount of time you spent together or who protective Kurt got of you on missions. Everyone else chalked it up to a close friendship but really it was so much more. Kurt adored you with every fibre in his body, and you returned the feelings. You glanced back to Kurt, and when he catches your eyes, you nod to the door. Instantly, he understood. His tail untwined itself from around your leg before the two of you stood and waved goodbye to the others before escaping into the empty hallway. “Vhere shall ve go?” Kurt asks you, seeming a little excited. “How about you room?” You ask, cocking your head to the side. It seems your suggestion was certainly good enough because Kurt wrapped one arm around your waist and help you tight as he bamfed into his room. “It’s a two minute walk.” You half scold but couldn’t help but laugh. “too much time.” He shakes his head as he ducks his head to retrieve a much needed kiss. You were quick to snake your arms around his neck as you pressed your body against his. You didn’t really mind the time saved. His arms were already securely around your waist but he pulled you tighter, his lips working against yours. But you were broken apart when you heard banging on your door. “hey, Kurt? you in there? You seen [y/n]?” Peter called through the door and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. you liked Peter, and he was a good friend, but if he found out you were both in here, he would dump himself on your bed and put a movie on for the three of you to watch. “roof?” Kurt whispers to you, seemingly having the same thought. “roof.” You nod and, in a moment, you were on the roof. You let out a sign of relief, stepping back from Kurt only because sometimes if you travelled with him so quickly in-between it would make your head spin. “Kurt?” A voice called out and you and Kurts head snapped towards the voice. Sitting on the roof was Jean and Scott who were panting slightly and looking surprised. “Jean? Scott? How-?” Kurt looked around in utter confusion as to how they managed to get up to an area you were both sure no one else had access to. “we were just watching the stars.” Jean stated a little too quickly. But you couldn’t exactly call her out on it when you and Kurt had come up here to do exactly the same thing. “Um, how about we go to my room?” you whisper to Kurt as you turn away from Jean with a smirk on your lips. Kurt nodded and wrapped his arms back around you. thankfully, this was normal when he travelled with you so it wouldn’t cause Jean and Scott to suspect anything. Although you were pretty sure you both knew each others secrets. Once you were both in your room, you felt really dizzy. Your knees gave out but thankfully Kurts arms caught you and he lifted you up to place you on your bed. “im sorry. I didn’t know-“ Kurt started to ramble but you shook your head. “No its fine. I didn’t realize they would be up there either. Im just a bit dizzy.” You smile as he sat by you. leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, making you blush a little. You didn’t know why it was the soft moments like this that made you blush rather then the hot make out sessions. It was certainly mixed up. a knock on your door made you roll your eyes. “[y/n]? do you still have the jacket I can borrow?” Ororo called through the door. You huffed, wondering why should couldn’t have asked earlier. “hide?” Kurt asked and you nodded. In a bamf, he disappeared. You sat up. “Come in.” You call to Ororo who seemed to be waiting for you to tell her since she opened the door immediately. “you okay? You look a little flustered.” She frowns a little as her eyes fall on you. “im fine. Just need to sleep it off.” You shake your head and smile at her. “No Kurt?” She asked, seemingly expecting him to be with you. “He went to bed.” You lied. “oh, Peter said he wasn’t there.” Ororo commented nonchalantly. “That jackets in there on the right.” You point to your closet, quickly wanted her to leave. She shrugged and walked over, opening the closet to find Kurt, standing inside. “Oh hi Kurt.” Ororo smiled, seemingly not surprised or confused as to why he was in your closet. “Hi Ororo.” Kurt waved awkwardly as he leaned to the side, allowing her to pull the coat out from his right. and finding the jacket. “Thanks [y/n].” She smiled, sending you a quick wink while walking to the door. Ororo giggled as she left the room. “im sorry. I didn’t know she would-“ Kurt bamfed in front of you, panicking as he sat on your bed on his knees. “ah screw it. I don’t care if they know.” You wave him off, crawling over to him as you straddle his lap as you wrap your arms around his neck. He smiled widely when he realised you weren’t annoyed his hiding place had been found. His arms locked around your waist, holding in place as you kiss each other. But then the door opened and Peter walked in. “Hey [y/n], Ororo said you knew where Kurt..?” Peter trailed off when his eyes fell on you and Kurts current position. A sly smiled dawned his lips. “Don’t let me interrupt.” He smirked as he raised his hands and backed out of the room, closing the door over after them. “Well, the whole schools going to know now.” You chuckle a little, since Peter wasn’t known for his ability to keep a secret. “I don’t care.” Kurt shakes his head, holding you slightly tighter. “Good, me neither.” You look back at him, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose.