im-the-fuzzy-guy
Kurt Wagner
Nightcrawler|B(lue)A(crobatic) M(other)F(uzzer)|New Mutants
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astroxrei :
Living your teenage years as a mutant, you got used to some things. That included walking into your blue teleporter friend perched up on the couch and staring at the television as if he’d just witnessed a massacre. It turned out to be nothing more than the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie, which he hadn’t seen yet – and by Kurt’s reaction, he didn’t think he’d ever want to.
“What’s all that?” Roberto asked as he threw himself on the couch, sipping his coffee. Yes, it was 7pm on a week night, there’s never a wrong time for coffee. He reached up and patted Kurt’s knee. “There there. It’ll be alright. Maybe we should try watching something else.”
“Good idea.” Kurt flopped down from his perch, landing on the cushion with a slight bounce. His blue tail whipping around behind his lounging form. Exiting the applications cinema mode to search desperately for a palette cleanser, the awful taste of Johnny Depp and recent accusations coming to light still on his tongue. “I can’t believe the ladies have declined our great offer to hangout tonight.”
They had formed a bond over their love for the ladies. Roberto’s differed from Kurt’s. He could be awkward at times, come off too overeager, yet most times it had a certain charm about it. His accent gave him an advantage filtering the words he said into a foreigner struggling to make due. Although, lately the accent had faded after years of being in America- the occasional slippage of German vernacular into his English statements.
“How do you feel about Shrek?”
Night+Day | Kurt&Roberto
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dyavxl :
The more the boy spoke, the more Azazel caught an accent—Germanic, yes. His lips twitched in something resembling displeasure before he smoothed his expression over. He wasn’t surprised the boy would look at him with so much suspicion after staying with the X-Men for however long he had, but still.
Azazel hummed and turned his body to face the young man, tipping his chin up slightly at the implication. “I much prefer the real you,” he replied. “But I will not fault you for seeking comfort in conformity. I would have killed for the chance to blend in when I was your age.” And he had killed for the sake of remaining unnoticed, but that was neither here nor there. He doubted one of Xavier’s children would appreciate hearing it.
How did he say this without making his suspicions transparently clear?
“You’ll have to excuse me, it’s only that I heard about your gifts.” His tail swished behind him, coiled with pent-up energy. “And I’ve never met another teleporter before. I’m glad you met the Professor, he has had a long history of helping our kind when they had no one else to turn to… I actually used to teach at the School, once.”
“Sorry to disappoint, Satan.” he joked with the tone only a sarcastic teenager could muster. It was from some vine he had seen earlier, Kitty showing it to him during their last hangout. “... Danke. I do not wonder why. You only give off the aura of death.” he pointed out, but before the words filled with judgement could hit, the hintings of a sly smirk formed between Kurt’s lips. His tense shoulders lowering to a physical dropping of his guard.
“My gifts? Ah, mein mutation. Yes.” he glanced to the crowds then teleported on the other side of him. A tiny distance meant a smaller plume of smoke and a softer ‘bamf’ sound following when he disappeared and reappeared. “I can say the same. We are a rare breed, I guess.” he shrugged, not seeing anything similar about them. Even though the physical attributes were uncanny, the way they spoke and thought of themselves were completely opposites.
“He’s a good man, yeah.”
His brow raised in astonishment, hearing the words but not quite believing them. How could he? It sounded absurd, but Kurt had to admit it was a curious thought. Like how Logan could spend so much time in a place so chaotic with a past hidden behind metal barriers. “You? Really? Keine Chance.” he chuckled at the imagery in his head.
Devil on Your Shoulder | Kurt&Azazel
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dyavxl :
Azazel watched with careful blue eyes as the boy moved closer, taking in everything he saw—the shape of his cheeks, his eyes, his frown, the way he stood. He wondered how much of himself he’d be able to see in the boy if he could see him in his actual, natural form. And if his memory of yellow eyes wasn’t failing him… How much he could see of her.
If, of course. The all-important if.
“I just wanted to talk,” he said, figuring that was harmless enough. Even after so many years, his Russian accent hadn’t faded too much. Luckily, so many years after the Cold War, no one seemed to care much about it anymore. “Magneto didn’t send me, worry not. I was just curious.” By which he meant that he’d almost physically threatened a few other Brotherhood members into telling him all they knew about the boy. And that he’d teleported into the School while Xavier was away to rifle through student files. “I almost didn’t recognize you like this.”
Kurt waited patiently, having the literal patience of a saint since he was raised by some. No father or mother, nobody who had wanted him until Xavier. A purpose alongside a family, how could the boy resist? Immediately falling in love with being an X-men. A swashbuckler who could travel the world in a ship with a crew who didn’t blink twice at him. How many years spent wondering if his father and mother would sail into the harbor of the nearby town? Stealing their boy back in the dead of night to go on all the adventures he dreamt and read of.
How many disappointing nights laying alone, tears blinked back, realizing they weren’t ever coming.
“To talk?” he sputtered, glaring up at the man, knowing the devil could probably kill him with ease. Yet, his bravado refused to let him back down. If he would die today it would be swinging until his last breath. The Russian accent earned the devil a moment of silence, thinking it over, then nodding as he inched back to his spot. “Curious about what?” Kurt asked, wanting this to be done so he could teleport back home and forget his errands and the weight they had brought with them today. “Recognize me? That is the point. I do not wish to be recognized. It is for peace of mind for all of us, Mein Freund.”
Devil on Your Shoulder | Kurt&Azazel
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dyavxl :
Over a hundred years inhabiting the earth had given Azazel a rather specific skillset. Finding people. Tracking them. Staying unseen. All of which were being used that day.
He didn’t often feel much more than bemused acceptance of Xavier’s brood of children, bright-eyed and optimistic and utterly uninformed as they tended to be. Magneto was more interested in converting them than he was, something about the next generation inheriting the earth—Azazel tended to tune him out when he began on his dramatic overtures. But when he had brought Magneto to see an ailing Charles Xavier, he remembered quite clearly—
Well. His unease might have been unfounded.
Still. The utterly average-looking young man walking up ahead had the same frequency about him as he’d had back in the mansion when he’d been blue and yellow-eyed, the energy around him like a half-forgotten memory. Like this, he could have been anyone. He could have, if Azazel hadn’t known what he looked like with an illusion recoloring his skin and hiding his tail. If the dark sweep of the boy’s thick hair wasn’t familiar even then.
(No. No. He was being paranoid. It was a coincidence.)
He tired of this. So Azazel sighed and reappeared a few steps ahead of the boy, leaning against a storefront with his arms crossed. The bustle of New Yorkers barely noticed him even with his red skin and the red-tinged smoke blown away by the wind, glancing and averting their eyes quickly as they passed by. But he kept his gaze fixed on the other mutant pointedly as his steps brought him nearer.
Keeping up with the traffic on the sidewalk while losing track of his not-so-secret stalker, he faced forward to see the fading spark of red. A puff of red smoke instantly drifting away into the pungent foul city air. The recognizable smell of scorched space after re-entry from a teleport.
Stopping in his tracks and causing the pedestrians behind to bump into him earning him a couple of muttered curses he didn’t even hear. Too focused on the red devil before him, a haunting vision for Kurt to see on one of his days off. Trying to put all the obvious clues to the side of why the devil would be following him. Recalling a few weeks ago back in the mansion, the two tailed demons locked eyes in passing, the younger, bluer one hurrying to movie night with his friends. Daring a darting glance about to double check if this had something to do with him or if he stumbled into one of the Brotherhood’s dangerous operations accidentally.
Putting his back to the man, he slowly walked backwards until he felt the cement plastered wall pressing against his back. Both hands shoved into his jacket pockets in an attempt to appear collected and calm. Not looking to Azazel yet. Keeping his eyes forward. Glaring out at the passing New Yorkers trying to figure out whatever convoluted plot they were planning.
“Why are you following me for?”
Devil on Your Shoulder | Kurt&Azazel
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Devil on Your Shoulder | Kurt&Azazel
Brushing off the brimstone and sulfur from his most recent ‘port, he stepped down from the top of the dumpster in a side alleyway. A reminder that there was a new trash heap for his usual spot-- adding it to the mental image he pictured to get here. Raising his wrist to push the button for the ‘default’ setting of the image inducer Hank created for him. With the appearance of a watch it could alter his blue skin and yellow eyes to more... suitable colors, that way nobody would notice his physical mutation.
He could go shopping without the rest of the customers eyeing him up cautiously or calling the cops. Free to do whatever he wanted for the afternoon.
Stepping out from the off beaten path into the sidewalk of the busy city, Kurt glanced around before blending into the mundane walk cycle of the crowded block. Not paying much mind to everything, he enjoyed going with the flow of things, but if there was none, he would make the flow- a raging rapids of fuzzy guy fun.
Although, even with the inducer on, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being followed and watched from a distance. His head turning every few steps to glance back among the crowded walkway.
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Night+Day | Kurt&Roberto
@astroxrei
Perching himself a top the back of the couch in a hunched over stance while watching the latest Pirates of the Carribean movie on Netflix, Kurt couldn’t help but scoff aloud. Practically pulling the raven black-blue hair out of his fuzzy head. An aghast expression on his face, unable to comprehend what was happening the flicker of pain in his golden yellow eyes- like the one video of a cat watching a horror film.
“What have they done? This used to be my favorite franchise! How could they ruin it!” he muttered beneath his breath, the heavy German accent coating each word with a hint of anger and betrayal as Jack Sparrow spun on a broken guillotine- screaming for his life.
“Du Fickfehler... I’ve never felt more betrayed in my life.”
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littlesmartart :
I saw this post from @incorrectx-menquotes and I just…….couldn’t resist. mystique explaining to poor, poor kurt about how he came to be. kurt didn’t even ask.
mystique and azazel are great parents.
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kamdensl :
This comic was inspired by @gyolove‘s post about Kurt observing Lent and what he might give up. Huge thanks to @evilsnowswan for the German translations!
Continued in Part 2
Lent
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Lent Part 2: The Next Day
Part 1
In recognition of April Fool’s, here’s Kurt dealing with the aftermath of his little prank.
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Kurt really hates public transport :DDD
1- X-Men Gold - Excalibur Annual
2- Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur #17
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