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0littlestwolf0 · 4 years

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All that matters

Yandere! Percy Jackson

Ship: Yan!Percy Jackson x innocent/fragile reader

Warnings: Violence, over use of powers.

Requested by: @xxscreamingcolorxx

It started off innocently enough. Way too innocent for that matter, maybe that’s what ignited him.

You were just the new kid in the big apple, someone who just moved there because of your parent’s job, and like any teen would have, your mind started wandering off, imaginating all the possibilities, all the movies that could come true before your eyes!

As for him, it was just another year in yet the same school (something he was really grateful for), only the first day and he was already counting the days until he could return to camp, to his friends.

Annabeth.

The name stung him like a bee, scratch it, it felt more like an angry wasp, but he ignored it, she was the closest person he had, who could actually understand him, and hey, he did love her, maybe not in the way she did him but for all he knew that was it for everyone, maybe that’s why people say that friends end up falling in love, more like a ‘next step’ thing than actual love.

Was that even real though? He surely didn’t know, but he was comfortable with what he had, and that was good enough, so he tried to shrug the thoughts away and finished getting ready for his day.

Soon enough he was already in his seat, headphones blasting a playlist he had spent the night downloading from questionable websites, and his head between his hands, doing everything in his willpower not to start a mess.

Naturally he didn’t notice someone new entering the classroom, he tried to stay away from most others, and people didn’t really like him either, much of a troublemaker, they’d say.

His lack of social skills made sure you got a seat on your first day. But he didn’t look up as you seated, his senses did however, perk up at your perfume, some wildflower and another thing he couldn’t quite pinpoint, but it reminded him of camp, so he couldn’t help inhaling even deeper, he made the silent decision to start sitting near you.

And it could have been that way, you being your a scent he liked, just another person, but the fates had other plans, as did the first teacher, who didn’t waste a second on explaining the week project to be done in pairs.

His music was gone at this point, and he sighed, he didn’t like working on teams for school. Better yet, he didn’t like ending up with whoever else didn’t have a partner. Just then he felt a finger poking his arm, with a raised brow he turned to see you.

And your breath got stuck in your throat, he was probably one of the cutest boys you had ever seen, yet, his resting face (or so you hoped it was his resting face) looked just a combination between angry and dangerous. But you didn’t listen to your gut and talked “Would- uh... Sorry! I’m new and I was wondering if you’d like to partner up?”

Your voice had to be the sweetest thing, he was already starting to take a liking to you. You see, he isn’t the type of yandere to just get obsessed, it was your scent that drew him to you, yet, your willingness to spend time with him did make him feel better.

“Are you- Yeah, sure” he had to stop himself from pointing you to another person without a partner, not yet believing you’d want to partner up with him. But your enthusiasm changed his mind.

—

Before any of you knew, the day was over and you were waiting for him on your designated spot just outside the school, it didn’t take him long to reach you.

You saw his expression change as he crossed the glass doors, first a schooled glance to the floor, not allowing himself to even look at anybody else, you didn’t understand that, he didn’t look that strong but when you touched his arm you did feel hard muscle, then, why would he avoid trouble so much?

He didn’t seem to see you at first, but he did, trust me on that, he was just afraid of you changing your mind and would very much rather if you just left than the direct confrontation, but he couldn’t understand why, why the idea of you turning your back of him turned him inside out.

But of course you didn’t, you approached him with the sweetest smile on your face and stood right in front of him “Hey!” He couldn’t hold a smile at your voice, you just sounded so eager “Should we go to the library?” Were you always this eager? No, that seemed impossible, maybe you were just happy to be with him, that certainly made his smile bigger

“Uh- I mean- Sure” he was nervous, which made him want to laugh his ass off, sure he could fight gods and monsters but send a pretty girl his way and he’d stutter “I mean, I was actually thinking we could do it on the park” he finally added, the park was a bit far, but if there were any monsters he’d be able to deflect them easily on an open place rather than a dead-quiet-library.

“Yeah! Sounds good to me!” You agreed with a sweet smile and allowed him to lead the way “Just help me with the whole getting back thing, I still don’t really know the city” he nodded eagerly, almost as much as you had before, it was an excuse to spend more time with you.

Now this didn’t concern him as cheating or misleading Annabeth, for he didn’t think you’d like him, you see, he doesn’t seem to find himself as someone most girls, especially girls like you, would feel attracted t him, so even if he felt the this growing killer bees on his stomach every time he saw you, nothing would ever happen.

You walked with him through numerous streets, he took advantage of your lack of knowledge and took you through the long path, he didn’t even notice that he’d done that at first, but you were just so engrossed on your retelling of that X-Men movie, that he wanted to hear you talk like that for hours, suddenly, you stopped, your head held down “I’m sorry, I just get a bit excited sometimes” that sobered him “No, no, it’s okay, please continue, I really want to know what happened to this Logan dude after that”

You blushed but tried to hide it with a laugh, still looking down “It’s okay, I know I can talk a lot, and it might be stressing” you added, it was your attempt to stop yourself from boring the first friend you made on that school, but it made his blood boil, people just didn’t understand you fucked up the world was, fighting every day against monsters, losing friends on the way, and how amazing it was to hear stories from someone like you, someone without the blood that he had in his hands.

“Well, I like it, and I really need more context, so the future isn’t the future then? He just changed it and that’s that?” He understood the story, but sometimes making an easy question was the easiest way to make others talk.

And you went on, you arrived to the park and sat on a desk with him, taking your supplies and started working on the project, you were open, and gave ideas, still never shut any of his, you asked for his opinion every step of the way and used almost every idea he had.

That made him feel warm, you were most likely the first person to trust his ideas and hear him without a scowl or a frown, he couldn’t understand how would anyone shut you down when you talked? Every time you looked down and scratched your arm he noticed you were stopping yourself from over sharing.

Why would anyone hurt you like that? He just wanted names, they didn’t deserve someone like you in their lives, not one bit, they deserved to suffer for making you ashamed of your words. It surprised him, really, that rage boiling inside him, and how soon it’d be gone as soon as you smiled back at him.

And then it happened, a manticore loose in the park, running around and tearing people apart, he saw the moment your instinct kicked in, you could see through the mist.

He took Riptide from his pocket and stood up, but you grabbed his arm and pulled him down, holding a finger to your lips “Don’t” was everything you said, and he gulped, maybe you did care about him a little, his mind started wandering, maybe you felt as connected to him as he did you, he wanted to nod and stay with you under the table, to keep you from danger, but the only way he knew was by killing it.

“Please” you pleased “it’s going to hurt you” he laughed humorlessly, “Not my first rodeo” was all he said as a smirk took over his mouth and winked your way, maybe he also wanted to show off a little.

It was weird, he had never wanted to show off before.

But oh well, the manticore was closing in as soon as it’s nostrils flared up with the demigod scent on him, he needed to stop thinking and start moving, natural talent and years of training in camp made it easy for him, more like a dance than a battle, not that he’d ever been good at dancing, but you get the idea.

A move to the left, an angry manticore to the right, sarcastic comment out about how bad the sun had treated the manticore’s skin and a “you should really get some moisturizer for that crack in your skin” and proceeded to stab it directly on the belly as the manticore jumped.

And he laughed, allowing the rest of adrenaline to leave him, after getting so worked up with thoughts of people hurting your feelings, killing something felt really good. Maybe too good.

He turned to look at you, and his stomach dropped, your throat was being held tightly, lifting you ever so slightly from the floor by an empusai, were monsters working together now?

Of course it would happen to him, out of all demigods in New York.

Now he realized, his blood hadn’t been boiling before, but it was now, burning his very skin from the inside, the empusai giggled and he gave a step closer, then you were struggling again “Now, now, one more move and your pet dies”

Pet? Oh now it was personal, he didn’t understand his blind rage, maybe by an outside point of view, you had reminded him of what light was, even with the ability to see monsters you saw the good in people, that much he realized from your speech about Magneto being just misunderstood.

Maybe you weren’t as innocent as he once thought but you still tried hard enough to make conversation with him, you even tried in your way to keep him safe, and now, everything he’d seen was good and worth saving was being threatened.

It didn’t took him a word, just a small move from his left hand to the side, and now it was the empusai��s blood that boiled, literally, she started crying, he didn’t stop, all the fluids in her body boiled now, and started moving inside her, desfigurating her, she screamed and let you go, he didn’t stop.

You ran to him and he threw Riptide to the ground, instantly feeling the (now lesser) weight of a pen settling on his pocket, with his now free arm he grabbed you by the showlders and held you to him.

“Don’t look” he warned, grabbing now your head and pulling it to his shoulder, one last move of his left hand to the right and the empusai’s blood chocked her to death, streaming down her ears, nostrils and eyes, her mouth forever set on a silent scream as she fell to her knees and finally turned into ichor.

Just then did he allow himself to fully hold you, his arms wrapped tightly around your as your heavy breath tickled the side of his neck, your arms wrapped just as tightly around his waist.

He realized with guilt that you were shaking, you were probably scared of him now “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he repeated in a whisper against your hair, unable to let you go.

“No” you shut him and separated your body from his by merely centimeters, his stomach dropped “I’m okay, you’re okay, that’s all that matters” you said grabbing his face, forcing his wandering eyes to stay still on yours “Survival of the fittest, right?” You joked and he allowed a worried breath to leave his body, you weren’t treating him like a freak.

He nodded and you hugged him again, just as tightly, he still felt you shiver every once in a while.

I’m okay, you’re okay, that’s all that matters,

I’m okay, you’re okay, that’s all that matters.

He repeated in his head over and over like a mantra.

You were too good for this world, and if that evening showed him anything was that monsters were probably going to come for you at some point, and he wouldn’t let them get even a step close.

He promised himself then and there that no one would ever harm you, monster or otherwise. After all, the gods owed him, he could get his way this once.

#yandere percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #yandere x reader #heroes of olympus #annabeth chase

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moonbaby26 · 3 years

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Title: Telling the Truth

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader, but also Magneto and Peter father/son interaction!

Summary: Continuation from previous chapter. Set during X-Men: Age of Apocalypse, you and the others finally defeat Apocalypse, just to end up stranded together until a way home can be devised. During the wait, you get to clear up some things with Peter on your feelings for him. Yet all goes sideways when Peter finally works up the courage to tell Magneto the truth about being his son.

Notes: For those that know the movies by heart, I made some more changes closer to the comics obviously. You’ll see.

Warnings: Some cursing, especially during the impromptu therapy session of Magneto and Peter unleashing their emotional baggage.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

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You didn’t know what you felt anymore. In a way it was like being outside of yourself. Just watching from somewhere far away even as you were pouring every ounce of strength you had left into your hands, blasting Apocalypse’s shield over and over.

You were trying to cause even the slightest, tangible bit of damage to him, just as Magneto was, just as Scott was. And yet, even with the three of you giving all you had, the monster had already gathered himself up again. With just the movement of one hand, he’d thrown Hank violently to the side when Beast had gotten too close while trying to help you all.

And only moments after Hank’s unconscious body had come to rest, Scott had faltered as well. In exhaustion, he’d finally had to close his eyes, pulling his glasses back down as he’d staggered backward. Then with another flick of the wrist, Apocalypse had all too easily slammed the boy into a building, the wall he hit then swelling out to cover and encase him like some living horror.

You could still hear Scott screaming even as you realized Apocalypse had now turned his attention towards you. With his every step closer, that numbness grew within you. You were too weak to fly away now, after all the energy you’d thrown at him, you were barely still standing.

But you could see the irritation in his expression. It was obvious that he couldn’t understand your loyalty to one another. Why any of you would be fighting this hard, just to die.

He kept reusing the same tricks, but they were effective. As the earth shot up around you like tendrils on a vine, you couldn’t break free. As quick and flexible as it was, it only felt like concrete wrapping all around you. It pinned your arms to your sides and wrapped around your legs, chest, and throat.

With a clenching of Apocalypse’s fist, it all drew tighter. And when your energy field finally gave out, the last of your shielding went away with it. As that light faded, the pain of being slowly crushed exploded through you. But you couldn’t scream when you couldn’t even breathe.

Apocalypse would have Xavier. That was all he wanted, then outright ignoring the straining of Magneto in the sky above him, Erik desperately trying to still do anything on his own now.

But as your sight blurred and your senses faded, it was the most surreal thing, you could still recognize Jean’s silhouette as she also moved out into midair.

Yet it wasn’t her, at least not as you knew her. Somehow that thought had still floated through your dying mind, before the world exploded all over again.

Even without being powered up, you could feel that surge. Like a pressure wave of pure, raw force. It seared across everything, hot and burning. But like a warm fire, for those far enough from the center, it only revitalized them. Hank was awakened suddenly, soon enough breaking the pieces that held you and giving you a chance to breathe again before he ran on all fours to also free Scott.

And yet for Apocalypse, someone far too close to that center, and the real target of Jean’s fury, the only option was to burn.

You were on your knees as you still tried to catch your breath, but you all knew opportunity when you saw it. She’d broken through his shield, torn through his armor. But even as his flesh seared away, it was still trying to heal back just as quickly.

Magneto had impaled him to the spot with multiple steel bars as soon as his shield had fallen, but Apocalypse was a coward. As soon as that tide had started to turn, he tried to flee.

Hank called out, “He’s getting away!” As Apocalypse tried to teleport, an energy shield rebuilding to close around him.

Even digging as deep as you possibly could, you only had enough left to make a large orb from one palm. That white light encasing just one of your hands rather than your whole body as you realized you had to make this last shot count.

And just as you thought you were not going to have another opening to get past his shield, lightning began striking down right on top of him. A hole broke in his field with the force, the white haired girl from before surprising you all with a sudden change of allegiance.

You threw your orb at once then, controlling it to come right through the opening she had made. It exploded directly against Apocalypse’s head and neck, further blasting away muscle and bone that no longer had time to heal under all the combined attacks.

But it was still Jean who dealt the killing blow. With one final powerful surge of her energy, screaming, she erased the last of him. His body broke into only ash under her red aura. It spread into the sky all around her, like wings of flame before extinguishing at last.

You were still waiting for some final confirmation that it was really over though, that you’d won. After a few moments of only the sound of the receding wind, and the sand lightly blowing past with it, it was like a collective acceptance at last.

You fell back with a large exhale, exhausted as you laid onto your back in the dirt. In the sky, you could see Magneto and Jean hover back to where Xavier was, no doubt to check on him now. You could only imagine if Magneto would soon be apologizing to his old friend, or not, for his part in all this.

But you didn’t rest in your silence for long. As you heard footsteps, you turned your head enough to see Hank’s clawed feet approaching. But he wasn’t alone. He had Raven on one side and Peter on the other, Peter more so the one he was propping up with that broken leg.

“Raven wants to go see Charles,” Hank said by way of some explanation, awkwardly helping Peter sit back down beside you as the other winced in pain. “I need you two to stay here while we see if there’s any medical supplies intact nearby, and while we try to figure out how on earth we’re going to get home now.”

While Hank spoke, you thought Raven might have still been giving you a kind of odd look. As if she was trying to make sense of something. You could assume what, after the abrupt display between you and Peter before. But you were just too tired to feel anything other than relief right now that everyone was still here at all.

“Okay,” You said, maybe just to check that you could talk, as much as your throat still hurt from being squeezed earlier. But the two older mutants were then gone just as quickly. Hank had picked up Raven, jumping over to the exposed second floor of the building where the Professor and the others were.

Peter was unnaturally quiet afterward. At least for a while before he finally looked down at you. “So holy shit, right?”

You glanced up. That phrase really could reference about anything that had happened today. You smirked tiredly. “Could you be a little more specific please?”

“I mean, your friend just vaporized that dude.” Peter answered, waving one hand. He couldn’t stop from being animated even if he tried it seemed, even when injured. “Did you know she could do that? Like damn, we could have been done an hour ago.”

You tried not to laugh. It’d hurt your ribs too much if you did. “No. I’d say she didn’t even know she could do that.”

“Well, I know who not to piss off,” He said, before going quiet for a bit again.

You still hadn’t been around him all that long in actual length of hours. But for all you’d now been through since first meeting at the mansion, it seemed like this morning was lifetimes ago. And you could sense that his mind was churning with something else he actually wanted to say.

You looked up to him again after a while. “You okay?” You asked. Which probably was still a bit ironic for you to question, as even though he had the broken leg, you were also the one laying in the dirt, too tired and hurting to properly sit up.

It still took him some time to respond though. Which told you he actually was trying to weigh his words somewhat before speaking. But when they did finally start to come out, he was still pausing and hesitating. “I’m, um, first of all, sorry about the whole surprise kiss there. I figured you’d just slap the crap out of me or something. But I thought we were going to die too, and I...I just-”

He was looking at the ground now, like there would be some answer there that would help him verbalize what he was trying to say. “I know I screw up a lot and let things go that I shouldn’t let go I guess. I already flaked out with the whole reason I came up to your house this morning, the whole Magneto thing. And I didn’t want to do that twice, not telling someone the truth again all in one day just because I was being chicken shit. You’re just really cool, and you know...I just wanted you to know that.” He looked back at you at last, as if trying to judge if any of this was making sense at all.

It did and it didn’t of course. You didn’t understand at all what he meant about why he came up to the house in the first place, or anything about Magneto. But you didn’t want to question on that when he was already making himself vulnerable with the main point you thought he was trying to make to you at least.

“Peter, I kissed you back remember? I mean yes, there was a lot of stress involved. But it doesn’t make it a mistake.” Now you were the one perhaps putting too much optimism in your thoughts here, and taking a risk. “Maybe it just made it happen a lot sooner than it naturally would have. But it doesn’t mean I didn’t want that, you know, eventually.”

Again, you’d only known each other for a day in real terms. Of course it was too much. But everybody had to start somewhere, right? You had no idea what a serious relationship could be like though, you’d never had one. Just awkward first dates that never became second dates because it was always just weird. You didn’t feel anything that way for those people and it was always evident so quickly.

And yet here came this guy, dropped into your life like a bomb in a time of utter chaos and danger, and you thought you were now finally understanding why your friends seemed to go so crazy when they told you about their “crushes” at school. It was just something that clicked. You couldn’t put rational thought to emotions like this.

“So you wanted to kiss me?” Peter finally asked in a way that was somewhat silly to you, because of course you wouldn’t have done anything like that if you didn’t actually want to. And yet you couldn’t make any dry reply to that effect when you saw the honest expression on his face as he’d asked.

Was it really so hard for him to believe that he would be wanted? You were surprised, genuinely. Of course he was quirky and odd, well maybe a great deal odd. But for all the flashy appearance and smugness you knew he could radiate, did he not actually see his own worth?

You touched his hand lightly, as you sat up at last. It hurt, but he needed to see your eyes to believe you now. You knew this was important. “You’ve had me flustered since you first introduced yourself this morning. I’m not used to that, at all, so it’s really new. I don’t really know how it’s all supposed to work, or what I’m supposed to do next. But I can at least speak to how I feel. I want to be around you more, I want to be close.”

The physical and the emotional went hand in hand really. But, you’d both have to figure out your own comfort level on that. You continued, trying to put that into words. He didn’t owe anything to you. “You need to remember it depends what you want too though. I can like you with or without kissing again. If you just want a friend, that’s okay too.”

He chuckled, seeming kind of taken aback. “Hell...” He looked away a moment, running his hand through his hair. It was obviously a nervous gesture, as it only made it look messier. “I’d really be a pathetic boyfriend you know. Like, epically bad.”

“You think so?” You asked, trying not to press too hard, but also not wanting him to keep seeming like he didn’t deserve any of this kind of attention.

“I’ll annoy you eventually, you’ll regret it.” He kept on, a little bit quieter then.

“How do you know I’m not annoying?” You countered. Of course you hoped you weren’t, you seemed to get along well with the other students, and they ran the gamut of so many kinds of personalities. But really, how was it fair for him to assume any fault would only be his?

“Pfft.” He looked back to you. “You literally glow. It’s not even metaphorical. You’re like perfect, and-“

Did Apocalypse ding him in the head too? You were having none of that. “I’m nothing of the sort. And neither are you.” But you smiled before he could take that negatively. “And I’m totally good with that.”

He quieted again, just watching you for an awkward while, before finally responding. “I guess we can try. I mean as long as you’re admitting now that your taste in guys is really this bad and you won’t get mad at me later for saying I told you so.”

It didn’t seem proper to laugh, but he made you want to. “I’ll overlook you insulting the both of us. But yes, if you want to try, then so do I.”

“Okay.” He answered. Then seemed to realize the depth of this a little more. “Shit...didn’t expect to get mutant-napped by the government, fight a god, break my leg, and become a boyfriend all in the same day.”

“And rescue a whole mutant school,” You added.

He shrugged purposefully for effect. “That’s what heroes do, babe.”

The pivot from so self conscious that he could barely accept your attraction to him, to now wanting to brag again really was something to behold. You started to quip something back, but stopped when you saw his face go serious. He was now looking at something abruptly in the distance, so you turned your head to follow his gaze.

It was Magneto.

You straightened up as well, now fully sitting up before Erik landed in front of you both.

He was direct, speaking immediately. “It will still be some time before Charles’ little CIA friend can get her cohorts to arrange your transport out of here.”

You didn’t know if the distaste in his tone was more about Moira being a government agent, or just dislike to her presence here entirely, but he only continued. “And given that Hank has no idea how to field dress wounds without access to his full laboratory, I get that responsibility.”

Peter shifted, abruptly realizing the meaning then. “I’m fine,” He lied.

Of course he absolutely wasn’t fine. But clearly distrusting about whatever Magneto now had planned and the inevitable pain it could mean for him. Peter hadn’t moved his leg at all in the entire time you’d been sitting here together.

Erik only answered him sharply, “You need a splint before you do even more damage to yourself.”

As he then raised his hands, metal rebar started to drag itself out from the broken buildings all around you, leaving no question that this was no longer a choice for Peter.

It was hard not to think that just a short time ago, Magneto had been using that same kind of power to impale Apocalypse over and over again. And yet now he showed how controlled he could be, breaking the thin rebar into lengths that could run all the way from Peter’s thigh to just above his ankle, and even bending them slightly to match the natural curvature of the knee.

“Lift his leg.” Erik spoke.

You’d been so distracted with watching him work the metal, that it took you a moment to realize the command was for you. You looked briefly to him, then to Peter. You and Peter both shared the same nervous expression.

If you just used your hands, you felt like you would only hurt him, not being able to support his whole leg in a way that wouldn’t put more pressure on the break. But you also didn’t know if you’d rested long enough sitting here to use your powers at all either.

Someone as intimidating as Magneto standing over you both impatiently certainly didn’t help.

But if it meant less discomfort for Peter, you’d at least try. You lifted both your hands, facing your palms towards Peter’s leg while focusing as best you could. Normally what would have been fairly simple now took a good deal of effort in your still drained state. But a faint white glow did start to move across his leg, eventually covering it from his hip all the way to the end of his foot.

Once enveloped, you raised just your fingertips, lifting his entire leg gently, just high enough that Magneto could place the metal bracing around it.

You heard Peter make a small sound of pain as Erik had circled other metal strips around the longer ones that ran parallel with his leg, snugging it all into place. But beyond that, the unconventional first aid seemed to be successful. His leg was effectively now immobilized as you let it back down softly, the light fading away as you let go.

“I look like a Mad Max reject,” Peter commented absently, breaking the silence after a moment as he poked at the new metal contraption.

“You’ll be running and finding trouble again soon enough I’m sure. We still heal faster than the lesser species.” Magneto responded, but not all that surprising to you really that he would still find ways to throw jabs at non mutants even in an unrelated conversation.

What did surprise you was that when Erik had started to turn to no doubt leave again now that his task was done, it was Peter that stopped him.

“Hey, wait a second.”

You didn’t think you were imagining a new anxious sound in Peter’s voice either, and it bloomed all new nerves in you as well. What was it between the two of them? There had been confusing hints of something ever since you’d gotten to Egypt, but Peter had never elaborated to you. Not that he’d really had much chance either though.

But just because of who Magneto was, it was easy to imagine things taking a dangerous turn if the wrong thing was said or done, but you had no idea how to help when you didn’t even know what had Peter so focused on him.

You felt him touch your hand, like a physical desire for support, as he asked Erik in the most serious voice you’d ever heard from him. “Do you remember a woman named Magda Eisenhardt?”

Magneto went rigid, and you froze as well. Very suddenly you were wondering if the others could still see you from here. If they were paying you any mind at all right now. But the only person here fast enough to actually get away from Erik, was here beside you with one wing clipped essentially. There’d be no escape.

“How do you know that name?” He’d turned fully back to face you both, eyes locked on Peter.

By the way Peter had seemed to pause his breathing, he wasn’t immune to the sense of threat either, but he still answered. “Well she goes by Maximoff now. She’s my mother.”

You felt like a helpless bystander watching some kind of disaster unfolding in slow motion. The frightening look in Magneto’s eyes versus the way Peter was now almost squeezing your hand painfully. The mental gymnastics your mind was now going through were chaotic. Did Magneto do something to Peter’s mother? Were they enemies? Was this some vengeance quest?

But if any of that were true, why on earth would Peter confront him now? With both of you already injured with not a chance to survive or defend against someone of Magneto’s power?

Whatever frightful things were burning through Erik’s mind as well still silenced him long enough for Peter to speak again though. And it all came out then.

“I was too afraid to tell you earlier, but I guess I’m just ripping the damn band aid off everything now. She told me about you. How she left because she was afraid of you too. But she didn’t tell you about being pregnant. She went to the states, changed her last name and had me. Me and my sister Wanda. Twins. But I didn’t know any of that about you when I busted you out of the Pentagon those years back. I didn’t know who you really were. That you were the guy I thought had just run off, or maybe you were dead. I didn’t know my father was in a damned plastic cell less than ten fucking miles away all those years when we had nothing!”

A chill went through you. The anger in Peter’s voice towards the end only added to the shock as you were forced to process everything at once. This was why. God. Just...shit.

You were all silent after that. For an unbearable amount of time there was silence.

When Erik finally did speak, you heard the anger in him too, but it was different. There was a raw pain in that, something so extremely deep coming out of him now. His fist was clenching. “She was right, boy. If it’s all true, then Magda was goddamn right to do everything in her power to hide you from me and to try to put an ocean between us back then.”

With a little horror, you could see the smallest fragments of metallic debris starting to quiver along the ground. His emotion carrying over into the environment now.

“I did remarry after I escaped Washington and went back to Europe. We even had a little girl. Anya.” There was the slightest sheen of wetness in his eyes, even though sheer anger was the only look still coming from them. “They killed them. My wife. My daughter. The humans killed them because of who I was!”

He gritted his teeth, and you could plainly see a couple tears escape his eyes then before disappearing back behind the sides of his helmet.

“They would have done the same to you and your sister eventually. To Magda too. She knew she’d be caught in the crossfire even when I didn’t. She knew what I really was.”

“It doesn’t make it right!” Peter’s voice surprised you as it broke, uneven and just as emotional as he yelled back at Erik. But he looked down again afterward, his hand trembling against yours. “I’m sorry what they did, that was our little sister too then. But you can’t just lie to someone their whole life. My mom shouldn’t have waited so long to tell me! I could have helped you...maybe it could have been different. Maybe we-”

“It would have been the same result.” Erik said coldly. “Because I would have been the same.”

With that he flew off abruptly, completely out of sight before Peter cursed under his breath, looking defeated. “Goddamnit. He really is an asshole...”

You opened your mouth to respond, maybe to try and comfort him, but then hesitated. There was so much to digest on both sides here. “I think he might just need time to cool off...” You finally said, as delicately as you could.

“Correct.” The Professor’s voice popped into both your heads then, leading you both to glance towards the broken building where the others had been, to now see they were all standing on the edge looking towards you.

“Apologies for eavesdropping,” Xavier continued. “But you were getting quite loud, both verbally and mentally, and I wanted to make sure you were safe as I had instructed the others not to interfere.”

Peter sighed, maybe a bit embarrassed at the audience, but also still clearly unused to having anyone in his head as he replied aloud. “That’s so damn weird. Guess you’re good now then?”

“Getting there, thanks to all of you.” Xavier answered with a slight amount of humor, “But helmet or no helmet, I don’t need to read Erik to tell you that he’ll be back. His anger is only towards himself, not to you. You did the right thing by letting him know the truth. He’ll come around.”

There was another odd feeling of amusement from the Professor after a moment though. “In fact, knowing how possessive Erik can be, I dare say you may get more than you bargained for, Peter, in parental attention. Good luck to you too, (Y/N). Though I’d think he’ll approve of you once he realizes how much you genuinely care about his son.”

You stared, knowing Xavier couldn’t see your ‘are you for real/horrified’ expression from this distance but that he’d definitely feel it.

You saw Raven make an exaggerated gesture of a thumbs up from way over there and Peter laughed tiredly. “We’re totally screwed aren’t we?” You sighed and he just leaned into you, teasing. “See? Too early to say it yet? Nope, it’s not. Told ya so. Told ya so. Terrible choice of a boyfriend, babe!”

You put your head on your knees as he rubbed one of your shoulders. You mumbled numbly. “I just want to sleep for sixteen hours.”

—————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

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bokunosimpfiction · 3 years

Text

Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt 3

A/N: Since y’all demanded a plot that’s what you’ll get. Will it be good? No. I’ve never written anything with a plot in my entire life. Ever. Not even when I did Nanowrimo or whatever. I just bullshitted the whole thing. Like I’ll do with this fic. Y’all are going to have to remind me to update because I have the attention span of a goat. I’ll try to update this on Saturdays??? IDK at this point. ALSO, WHY THE FUCK IS THIS SO POPULAR?????????? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY NOTES THIS HAS ON AO3???? 69????SIXITY FUCKING NINE??? I HATE EVERYTHING MY LEGACY WILL BE READER CALLING HEISENBERG DOOFSCHMIRTZ I HATE EVRYTHING DSHFUGSADFJ

Synopsis: You have totally, %100, given up on escaping. Totally. You haven't been gathering supplies for one, final last hurray. Nope. Totally not. All you have to do is persuade Heisenberg of that so you can change your mind at the last minute. Y’all know the trigger warning for this series but if you don’t tw:kidnapping (implied)

Taglist: it’s exclusivly @localdepressedvampire so if you want to be on it for just this story or for all my pieces fill out the google doc in my pinned post or dm me and I’ll put you on it. :)

You’ve made a breakthrough in your long-term plan of escapism. Even with the mini escape attempts that were really about exploring the factory and less about actually trying to get out, you hadn’t made a lot of progress: until now.

Well, two, really… Okay, maybe 1 ½. Firstly, you found a sawed-off two-barrel shotgun. With ammo. In fact, there was a various amount of ammo around the factory, but no actual gun. Until now. The second discovery, which is nowhere near as useful, was a window. Which was probably 50 or more feet up from the ground. You didn’t get a chance to inspect it that much, considering as soon as you saw it and got a glimpse at the far-off ground, you had to run again from Lycans.

Which gives you a basic idea of a way to escape. You knew where the ammo was, you knew where the gun was and had a route to the edge of the building, and hopefully could find stairs at the end of the hallway. Now all you had to do was find a time where you could be gone long enough to get a decent head start before, he notices you’re even gone. Even when he was in the workshop, he kept a close eye on you, keeping you in arms-length to the point where it taxed on both of your mental health.

And even then, in that chair in the small room, you watch him work in the finer details on something the size of your head and torso. You try not to look at the phone in your lap, he doesn’t even know you have it, much less how great the reception is in the building. How did he not know about his old phone that was still working fine? Oh well, he doesn’t need to know you’re looking at memes and reading feel-good wolf-star fanfic on ao3.

The best idea you had was to leave him while he was asleep, but there were two some issues with that: he clung to you like his life depended on it, your back to his chest and arms around you almost tight enough to keep you awake; it was dark as hell in the hallways of the factory as is, but it would be impossible to navigate safely with the lights; and the Lycans were most active outside at night, which was where you were trying to go. They’ve tried to eat you before as they show no discrimination on food.

The only way to get a good enough head start would be to leave while he didn’t notice you were gone, and wouldn’t notice for a long, long time. And that when it hit you. The only time he ever left you by yourself was when he had to deal with the other three lords. And while he left you in that basement that you originally woke up in, you had memorized your way out and found that going up five flights of stairs took you to that faithful widow.

Would you have enough time to explore and look for an actual exit/entrance, or should you play it safe and find a way to go out that window. You wanted to laugh to yourself, you’d never think that going down a 50ft plus drop would be considered safe, but here you were, kidnapped and held hostage by one of the people your late grandmother warned you not to associate with, or even go near. The letter you received directly quoted “the four lords and their mother, Mother Miranda, are not to be approached or associated with at any costs. You’ll know them when you see them, they smell like death and money. See them and run.”

You can’t help but find that ironic, considering that you did try to run, heeded her warning, and still faced the consequences that were far worse than she had warned you about. You regretted coming here, to this small village, when you first arrived: no friends, and even those you tried to approach held you to her standard and expected them to be just like her. You were far from her kind and optimistic nature (at least that’s what you heard of her; you hadn’t even known of her whereabouts until she was dead).

Even the duke, who had helped smuggle you into the village, didn’t seem fond of you. It was a shame, you tried so hard to impress him. But he saw you to a point where you could easily reach her old cottage without having too many issues, turned his cart around, and left without a good-bye. It bothered you to no end that your only companion for about a year or so was an elderly outside cat and the creaking noises the walls made at night.

And then the cat died and not even a week later you got kidnapped. You never considered yourself lucky, but damn if that wasn’t the worst streak of luck you’ve had in a long time.

You pretend to turn a page in your book and scroll through your Instagram feed, seeing friends having fun at the beach, or studying at the library, or your old best friend taking selfies in provocative clothing to your ex-boyfriend. Did she forget he cheated on you? She wasn’t always the smartest, but she brought that heartbreak upon herself. You see a photo of your mom, she had posted a picture of a black and white photo of her with her mom, you’re guessing, you have no idea who that old woman is.

This is the last photo I had with my mom before she died. We lost contact after I moved out. I wish we parted on better terms, Nana.

She’s in a prairie dress, holding an ancient-looking key in one hand, and the other wrapped around her mom, a middle-aged woman with long hair in two braids and a face that had too many stress wrinkles. You guess your mom was as bad as you were in college. The background looks dreary. You would have guessed it to be the quality of the photo if you hadn’t recognized the house behind them as the house you lived in used to live in.

The loops on the handle of the key look familiar. You spread your fingers apart to zoom in and see the blurry engravings on the side. It was the payment you gave to sneak into the village. You thought it was a worthless family heirloom at most and found it strange that he had even found interest in the key, or even valued it deeper than money in general. Maybe this photo or other photos of you and your family would help out.

Why is that key suddenly piquing your interest? Were you that bored, as to sit there and think about a key that was at least twice your age? A key that you didn’t even have. You needed a hobby besides escapism and rejecting your captor’s sexual advances. You look up at him again, only to find him leaning against the desk, hat off and sunglass placed on his forehead, his gaze on you. It wasn’t his normal piercing one, that studied you and calculated your every move, but soft and lazy. His current gaze was dreamy; he was daydreaming about you. You found that equally undaring s it was unnerving.

“Karl.”

“Yes, Sweetiepea?” Honestly, what the fuck.

“Firstly, why are you staring at me like that? Secondly, that is the most disgusting way to use that pet name. I need to take a shower after you called me that.”

He chuckles light-heartedly. Even his softer more genuine, happy chuckles are booming and loud. “Okay… Sugarplum!” And he busts out laughing.

Clearly dodging the first question and focusing on the second. You can’t believe you gave him ammo for his annoying-you-gun. And you thought you’d grown immune to most of his… less-savory traits. Were you growing used to him? Next thing you know you’re going to like him and develop Stockholm syndrome!

“You’re a shit head, hobo magneto…” You turn your head away and let your hair cover half your face so he can’t see you smile. You’ll miss him when you escape and get the duke to smuggle you back to your home in Bucharest. But only a little. Just because calling Heisenberg these names are funny.

“Why don’t you call me by my name, I know you know it.”

“You sure about that?” You quip back.

“You’ve lived with me for at least two months now!”

“Hm…. I think I know your name! It’s uh…” You are totally faking not knowing his name. “It’s… Heidi Carlson? Yeah, that sounds about right!”

“It’s Karl Heisenberg!”

“Quit being so silly, Heidi! Maybe it’s nap-time!” This was a little too fun.

He looks back at his project for a moment and genuinely considers it. “I know you’re being antagonistic but you’re probably right.” And with that, he walks towards you and goes to scoop you up. You have to shut your book quickly in order for him not to notice the phone in between its pages before you let him pick you up.

He immediately notices that. “Are… Are you sick?”

“No! Of course not!” Because you genuinely aren’t sick, and he’s already up in your business as-is, you don’t need him dotting on you because he thinks you’re sick or something. You’ll go fucking crazy.

“You’ve put in zero effort into anything remotely physical since your last little failed escape attempt.” He gave it a little bit of thought. “You’ve given up, haven’t you, and you’re just depressed about it aren’t you?”

You want to say no, you really do, but if Heisenberg thinks you’ve given up on escaping, perhaps it’ll give you enough space to plan the big one. The reverse heist so to speak. “No- I… okay maybe I have but I still don’t like you.

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good girl. Now let’s get us that well-deserved nap.”

You plug your nose and turn away as a joke. “You’ve gotta take a bath first, you smell like oil and sweat.” You don’t fight it, because you have to play the part, but you still have to act a little bit like yourself.

“Okay, fine doll, but don’t think you’ve escaped my barrage of affection, because as soon as I get out of the shower-“

You bonk him. And he looks at you so confused before he smiles and leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours. You try to hold the bile back in your mouth and lean forward and peck his lips before leaning back. You failed at trying to not visibly gag.

“Ew… I can’t believe I just kissed you.”

“Well, I guess someone caught feelings… Didn’t they?”

#Karl Heisenberg #yandere Heisenberg #yandere resident evil #resident evil x reader #yandere heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x reader #tw: kidnapping #fluff #well it's as fluffy as it gets with sarcastic reader-chan and yandere heisenberg #he thinks this is fluffy #because he's fucking delusional

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wcnderlnds · 3 years

Text

where do broken hearts go / peter maximoff x reader

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader Description: You and Peter used to be inseparable but now he can’t bear to be around you. Warnings: sad peter??? Word Count: 1601 A/N: okay full disclosure i dont usually write angst i’m usually a fluff/humour type of gal but i’m trying to delve into the world of pain so go easy on me. gif is from google bc... lazy.

You never thought you’d be back here but fate had a funny way of rearing it’s ugly head. It had been two years since you’d left Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. It hadn’t been an easy decision but you couldn’t stay there. After everything that had happened with Apocalypse, you realised that wasn’t the life you wanted to live and made a run for it. You wanted a normal life — not one where you could be attacked at any given moment for being different. So, you’d headed back to your family. Thankfully, there was only one person who knew where you lived these days and Charles knew better than to try and convince you to come back. Once your mind was made up, that was it. You were one stubborn person. That didn’t mean it didn’t break your heart to leave because it did. There was so much you’d left behind — your friends, your mentors and, most importantly, Peter Maximoff.

The moment you and Peter had met over ten years ago you’d instantly clicked. Charles had needed yours and Peter’s help with something. That something was breaking out Magneto from a high security prison but you didn’t really like to bring that up much. That was when you and Peter had first met and from that moment on you’d been inseparable. You’d decided to stay at the school to learn to control your abilities while Peter had gone back home but you’d stayed in touch the whole time. There had been so many times when you’d tried to talk him into coming to the school but he wanted to be with his family. Whenever you could, you met up and that had eventually turned into the two of you dating. You’d officially been together for three years when everything changed.

After Peter had showed up at the school and saved you (and everyone else) from the burning building things took a wild turn. Apocalypse had happened. It had shook you to your core. As much as you loved Peter, as much as you loved the people you were surrounded with on a daily basis you couldn’t take the risk of that happening again. So, you’d left. There was no goodbyes because that would’ve been too painful so instead you’d left your favourite silver haired speedster a letter. There had been so many times when Peter had tried to get in contact with you but you ignored him. If you were going to even have the tiniest bit of a normal life then you had to leave everything behind including the love of your life.

Now, here you were stood outside of the doors to the place you’d vowed to never return to. Your abilities had taken a bit of an unexpected turn. You had tried to keep it under control by yourself but when you’d almost accidentally hurt a family member you knew it was time to get some real help. If there were any other place you could’ve gone, you would’ve but only Charles, Erik and everyone at the school could help you.

With a deep, shaky breath, you pushed open the doors to the building you hadn’t seen in a while. Students were rushing around making their way to their next class. It was Hank who spotted you first. Quickly, he dashed over to you pulling you into a bone crushing hug. “(Y/N)!” He exclaimed. “It’s so good to see you! Charles told me we’d be expecting you.”

“Kinda need to breathe here, buddy,” you gasped, patting your friend on the back as he released his hold on you. “It’s good to see you, too. Does… uh, does Peter know I’m here?”

Hank frowned. “Not as far as I know but I think you should talk to him first before anything else. The last thing we all need is for things to be awkward around here.”

A heavy sigh passed your lips. He was right, like always. The last thing you wanted to do was waltz in and make things weird for everyone so you were going to have to be an adult and face Peter no matter how much it was going to hurt.

After chatting for a little with Hank and a few others — Jean, Scott and Jubilee — you sought out Peter. Nerves were bubbling up inside as you wandered through the corridors hoping to get a glimpse of the speedster. Your palms were sweaty as you rubbed them together, a stress headache slowly but surely making its presence known. Maybe coming back here wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe you should’ve just isolated yourself and gone into hiding. It’d be better than having to do this.

It was then you finally laid eyes on him. He was leaning against the wall, looking at his watch as impatiently as ever. There was a brief pause while you had an internal pep talk with yourself then you made your way to him.

“Peter?” You said meekly.

At the sound of your voice, he looked at you. Before you could even open your mouth to say anything else he was gone.

*****

Since then you’d tried for three days to talk to him but every time he would run off or try to avoid you. Admittedly, it hurt but you knew you didn’t have the right to be hurt. He was acting this way because he was hurt. You deserved it but that didn’t make it any less painful. So, you asked Hank to help you out.

Impatiently, you waited in the danger room. Hands on your hips as you paced up and down in the empty room. The plan was for Hank to ask Peter to come and run through some scenarios with him then once he was in the room Hank was going to lock him in there so he couldn’t escape. At the sound of the door opening, you froze hoping this would work.

“Give me a second. I need to go make sure everyone knows we’ve got the room for a bit.” Hank patted Peter on the shoulder before quickly exiting the room and locking it. Peter hadn’t noticed you yet, a confused look on his face as he noticed the door locking.

“Hank, what the…” He banged on the door.

“He’s not going to let you out,” you said from where you were stood at the other end of the room. Peter spun around to face you.

“I have nothing to say to you,” his tone was brash — something you’d never experienced with him before.

“I know but, Peter, I really need - “ you started with a step closer to him.

“And I really needed you!” He exclaimed throwing his arms in the air with an exasperated sigh. “I broke my leg and needed you but instead I was handed a letter by Hank telling me you were gone. So, I don’t really care what you need. You bailed on me when I needed you the most.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, sorry,” your eyes began to brim with tears.

“It’s too late for that. You broke my heart and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive you for that.”

“I was selfish and… I didn’t think. I was thinking about myself and that was wrong. I know that now. I’m sorry for leaving you. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I thought about you every single day. I loved you, Pete. I still love you and… I’m just so sorry.”

Tears had freely began to fall down your cheeks. It was taking all of Peter’s will to not close the space between you and wipe them away. No matter how much he was angry at you, he still loved you too but he couldn’t bring himself to get hurt again.

“Everyone told me I’d forget about you and move on but it’s two years later and here I am still wanting to make you feel better instead of myself,” he looked at the ground. It hurt to look at you especially now that you were crying. “You broke me, (Y/N). I just….” He paused, shaking his head. “I still love you too but… I can’t. The trust is completely gone. I’m not willing to give you my heart again when you were so careless with it the first time.”

“I know,” you sniffed. Your sweater clad hand moved to rub at your eyes but was stopped mid way when Peter grabbed it, lowering it. The pads of his thumbs moved to gently wipe the tears from your cheeks which only made you cry more.

“I need time. I need to learn how to be around you again. I need to learn how to trust you again and then… maybe we can….” He trailed off unable to bring himself to say it. He didn’t need to give himself false hope. By now his forehead was resting against yours, his eyes closed as if it was physically hurting him to say his next words. “But, for now, I need you to leave me alone. Please.”

You nodded, taking a step back to put space back between the two of you as you shouted. “Hank, open the door.”

In mere seconds the door unlocked. With one last look and a sad smile Peter left the room leaving you alone. If there was one thing you knew, it was that you’d do anything to make Peter Maximoff happy again. If space was what he needed then you’d give him it. No matter how long it took — he was worth it.

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #quicksilver x reader #peter maximoff imagine #quicksilver imagine #fics.

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mistressxfmagnetism · 3 years

Text

my heart is gold...

WHO: Lorna Dane and Julio Richter ( @rictorscales ) WHEN: 7 days before [redacted] WHERE: XFI HQ, NYC Docks WHAT: A grieving, angry Lorna seeks out Rictor to help her find something to break or fight. Rictor ignores the red flags, and Lorna’s distractions end in tragedy. WARNINGS: Violence, death, trauma, memory alteration, PTSD, bigotry, guns, suicide ideation

LORNA: It had been a week, or almost anyway. A week since she'd run from Genosha, from her father, from Jean. From her memories and her hurricane of emotions. But the only ones to follow her had been the last two, trying to tear her apart as they did. She hadn't slept in a week, far too wired, and had barely stopped moving either. When she stopped, the grief began to undo her (youkilledheryoukilledheryoukilled--). No, far easier to keep moving, to focus on the anger she felt towards Erik for the way he'd meddled with her mind. For hiding what she'd done. For making her witness what he'd done to her step father and then erasing his guilt with her memories.

She didn't know who could help her with any of this. But when it came to anger that threatened to burst out, and powers that could destroy when that burst happened, Lorna turned to Ric. Maybe he could help her ground herself, with that connection to the earth he seemed to understand better than others. Or maybe he'd let her be angry and not tell her enough for how furious and hurt she was with Erik. That was how Lorna found herself letting herself into XFI to find him, unlocking the door with barely a thought. It was like unlocking the memories had unlocked more of her powers too, it was too easy.

RICTOR: A few months ago, things were quieter. Rictor could feel vibrations in the back of his mind, like a movie soundtrack. It was there, but it wasn’t overpowering. You didn’t notice it until certain notes began to swell, didn’t hear it until it needed to be heard. It was different, since Genosha. He’d pulled an island from the sea and everything was louder now. He heard the lock moving without a key, heard the thump thump thump of a heart in a chest, felt the vibrations of a body moving. Everyone on Earth gave off a slightly different frequency of vibrations, and he recognized Lorna’s the moment she got close. A few months ago, that might have been all he recognized. But now…

Anger was an energy. In theory, Rictor had always known that. He had felt it surge in his chest, felt it overpower his heart, felt it burn him from the inside out. He’d never felt it in other people before, but right now? Lorna’s heart was vibrating at a frequency he knew so well. Anger was an energy, and Lorna Dane was a goddamn nuclear power plant, an instant away from an explosion. And Rictor knew how that felt. He understood that better than he’d ever understood anything else.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” He called from the couch as she walked in, twisting his position to face her. “Because I’m sure I deserve it, but Tabby’s gonna be pissed if you kill me. I told her I’d buy beer for the fridge.”

LORNA: She should've known he'd know from the second she walked in. But she was still surprised by it. "No, Ric. I'm not angry at you. I'm angry at Magneto." And Jean. And herself. But Erik bore the brunt of it.

Lorna’s head wouldn’t stop spinning, even now. Her mind kept replaying the events of that night. Of how her powers had manifested because of the argument, because she'd been so scared for her mother, so upset by the shouting. She'd crashed the plane and killed them. Only she’d not killed them both, had she? Erik had killed Arnold Dane. Those screams wouldn't leave her mind either. Even if it had not been her, was it not Lorna’s fault? Lorna had practically summoned Erik to the scene by causing such a disruption to the magnetic field with the pulse that crashed their plane in the first place.

The destruction of the block seemed to have destabilised Lorna more than she could've expected. Part of her life so fundamental to everything had been a lie, had been hidden. Her powers were on edge, all week things had been sparking and creaking around her. "He fucking--He erased my memory when I was a kid, Ric. He had some telepath put a block in my head and then left me."

RICTOR: Magneto. The way she said it caught him off guard, had him freezing in his seat because it wasn’t right. He’d never heard Lorna refer to her father as the title before, but up until now, it had been Erik. It had almost been dad, sometimes. It had never been Magneto. There was a question in his eyes as he studied her, a silent inquiry that felt too deep to say aloud. So he said something else instead. He kept his voice light, he deflected from the seriousness of her tone. “Well, if you’ve come to talk daddy issues, you picked the right guy.”

(It wasn’t the right thing to say. He knew that. But if Lorna wanted someone to say the right things, she wouldn’t have come to Rictor to begin with.)

He didn’t ask her to explain, but he knew she’d do it anyway. Rictor might not be a master detective, might not have ever really earned the P.I. title he boasted, but he knew Lorna well enough to know that she liked to offer explanation to her anger. It wasn’t something he did himself, but he understood the appeal. Giving a voice to your rage allowed it validity. Explaining why your hands shook could steady them sometimes. And Rictor had never much cared about the validity of his anger, but Lorna did. So he listened, and he let the fire in his own chest burn to match hers.

“What an asshole,” he said, and he meant it. When he was a kid and Cable had wanted inside his head, Rictor had left his team, his family behind to prevent it from happening. Erik hadn’t given Lorna the chance to do the same. He’d made a choice for her, the same way Rictor’s father had always made choices for him. He didn’t have to feign anger on Lorna’s behalf --- it was an easy thing to feel. “What are we doing about it? What do you want to do?” Erik had taken a choice away from her, and Rictor couldn’t change that. But he could offer her a new one. And that wasn’t enough, but it was something all the same.

LORNA: She caught the way Ric froze, the question in his eyes. But she didn't want to address it straight on, letting her anger speak for her choices instead. And Ric, proving exactly why she'd come to him now, didn't ask. Didn't pry. He made a quip and then waited for her to get out what she wanted to say. Despite herself, she snorted at his comment, rolling her eyes. Trust Ric.

Getting it out in the open didn't still the shaking, nor dampen the burning anger--or the lighten the crushing guilt that she was still hiding from him--but it did feel good to hear someone agree with her. Someone else call Erik an asshole, and not even try to defend him. It felt good to have someone on her side 100% in this. To assure herself that she wasn't overreacting, to quiet that little voice that said she was only angry to absolve herself of what those memories had revealed.

"I don't know. I just... Fuck, I want to break something." She wanted to fight Erik, but Jean wouldn't let her and Erik wouldn't fight back. So she had to find another avenue for it.

RICTOR: If Lorna wanted to talk things through, she wouldn’t have come to Rictor. She would have gone to Rahne, to Terry, maybe even to Monet if she was feeling particularly brave, but not Rictor. Rictor was a man so incompetent about conversations on feelings that his first - and last - attempt at therapy nearly ended in a fist fight. He was a man who’d climbed to the roof of a building and contemplated exit strategies more than once without ever making an effort to talk about any of them. If Lorna wanted to talk about what was bothering her, she wouldn’t be here.

So Rictor didn’t talk.

He studied her, waited for her to tell him why she was here, because there was some reason for it. She’d left the group chat, left Genosha, could have left him along with them and he wouldn’t have been angry. (Hurt, maybe. But for all the anger that made a home of him, he rarely felt any aimed towards Lorna Dane.) When she finally spoke, when she told him her reasons for coming to him, they made sense. She wanted to break something, and everyone knew he was good at that. So he nodded, pursing his lips and getting to his feet. “Okay,” he said, stretching his back, “so let’s break something.”

LORNA: She trusted Ric. Despite what even he would say, Lorna trusted him. She knew he wouldn't judge her, that he'd side with her, and he wouldn't run back to Erik to tell him everything. Lorna didn't want anything getting back to Erik until she was ready. Eventually she would be, she knew that already, but not yet. And Ric would understand her need to break shit. To be destructive until there was nothing left. Until even she was barely left. Until she wasn't haunted any more. If anyone wasn't going to talk her out of it, it was him.

"Great. Let's go." She waited for him to get anything he needed, heading back to the door, which opened before she even reached for it. And if her hand trembled as she caught the door handle, she wasn't going to mention it. Anger was easier than grief or guilt. "I don't care where. You pick. Just not Genosha. Preferably not too far either."

RICTOR: If there was one thing Rictor understood, it was the anger that came with grief. The first time he shook the world was when his father’s body hit the ground, when he leveled three city blocks and called it mourning. No one ever really warned you about that. They told you there were stages in grief. He’d heard that as a little kid trying to wrap his mind around the death of a mother he hardly knew, heard it in the whispers of the adults who wanted to comfort his father not because they were concerned for him but because Louis Richter was a man everyone wanted at their side. You have to let yourself go through it, one family friend had said. Let yourself go through the stages. And Rictor thought he understood that. He thought he comprehended it. He didn’t.

Grief wasn’t ticking boxes as you moved from one stage to the next. It wasn’t wrapping up denial with a pretty bow before moving on to anger. For Rictor, grief was anger. It was anger and anger and anger and nothing else. It was tearing the earth to pieces beneath him as if shaking it enough would keep his father’s body from making contact with the dirt, as if keeping the body upright kept the soul inside, as if you could do anything for someone after they’d had a bullet put through their head. It was nearly bringing a roof down on his team’s head after Rusty died, it was standing in the graveyard and feeling the still heart beneath the dirt, it was shaking the ground, the soil, the casket. Grief was anger. Rictor knew that.

And Lorna was angry.

He gave her a nod, grabbing his phone from the table and sticking it into his pocket. “I’ve got a lead on some anti-mutant pendejos nearby,” he offered. “Don’t know how many, but I’m sure there’s enough to keep us busy. And they’re nowhere near Genosha.”

LORNA: Lorna had thought she'd known grief. Grief in the black dress she'd been forced into for her parents' funeral, grief in the doctors they made her see, and the nights she cried for her mommy, not knowing why she couldn't come. But this was different. This unburied all the grief she had thought she'd grown out of, and mixed it with guilt, heavy and poisonous, until it seeped into her very being. She remembered so clearly now that feeling of strength when she'd torn the plane apart. How powerful she'd felt for a split second when her parents had stopped shouting, only to scream as her world dropped out from under her and she tumbled from the sky. She'd never gotten a chance to wrap her head around any of it. Fresh in her mind, like the memories had happened yesterday.

"Perfect. The more the merrier." Lorna was itching for a fight. And anti-mutant assholes were a fight she didn't even have to feel guilty about. She didn't have to think. Just antagonise and piss off some assholes who hated her. No complicated feelings, no conflicting emotions or thoughts. She could turn all that off. It was exactly what she wanted. "Lead the way."

RICTOR: When you were in tune with the Earth, when you were as familiar with the spin of it under your feet as you were with the beating of your own heart, you could feel certain things in the air. Rictor had learned that a long time ago, learned it with the faint hum that always emitted from Shatterstar or the heat that seemed to rise off Tabby. It wasn’t limited to things like that, of course, wasn’t limited to just the quiet additions of people’s powers shifting the air around them. There was more to it. There was always more.

You could feel grief, if you tried hard enough. You could feel trauma. The way someone’s heartbeat shifted just a little to make room for it, the way their breaths came out more hitched than they ought to. Grief wasn’t a feeling --- it was an environment. It was in the air around you, in the ground beneath your feet. And it was in Lorna now, and if Rictor were a better friend he might do something more than he did. He might make tea or cocoa or whatever liquid people used to put the world back together when they themselves weren’t held up with duct tape and chewing gum. He might have turned on a movie, might have grabbed her a blanket, might have gotten a box of tissues. He might have done a lot of things if he were anyone else, but he wasn’t. He was a man in tune with the Earth and angry all the same. He was a man who poured violence into the hole in his chest and called himself fulfilled.

He grabbed his coat.

“They’ve got a spot at the docks,” he said, already walking that way. “They’re getting organized now, you know? Probably better we take them out anyway. Nip it in the ass before it starts.” His tone was casual, easy. As if the world wasn’t closing around her, as if this were a normal day, as if grief wasn’t a weight tied to her ankle while she stood on an unstable boat. “I was gonna kill ‘em. That cool?”

LORNA: "Stop it before they hurt anyone," Lorna agreed, walking beside him. Stop them before they needed to avenge people. Ric spoke so casually, as if he noticed nothing wrong with her. She knew he was more aware than that, but smart enough not to mention it too. Not to mention the crackling storm that followed her.

But if there was ever a red flag that Lorna wasn't okay, it was the lack of reaction to Ric's proclamation of intent to kill. Only twice had she ever even attempted to kill those who attacked them for being mutants. The second had been the attack on the Underground from Enforcers. The first... she rarely spoke of. Another memory, buried where others wouldn't see it, only this one she buried herself. "Whatever. Fine." Most days she tried so hard not to kill. To only do what was necessary. Today, she didn't care.

As they approached, it wasn't hard to spot the small crowd gathering. Individually, they were all dressed in nondescript clothing, but together it made for a suspicious crowd. Too many people trying to get away unnoticed. Lorna suspected they didn't just plan to protest, but to hurt. And it fueled that spark of anger well, enough that the weight didn't hold her back. "Come on," she said, not bothering with anything like a plan. Her plan? She'd figure it out as it came.

RICTOR: She didn’t argue. Rictor voiced his plans, and Lorna didn’t argue. He knew that was a bad sign, knew it meant nothing good would come, knew it meant he ought to turn her around and march her back into XFI to settle onto the couch, but he didn’t. He didn’t do any of those things. (Rusty would have. The thought was like a knife between his ribs, settling for a beat before twisting itself up in his insides. Rusty would have made sure Lorna was okay, would have never suggested what Ric did in the first place, would have talked to her instead of this, whatever this was. Rusty would have done everything right. Sometimes, Rictor thought that was probably why he was dead.)

Rictor fell silent as they walked, afraid to speak, afraid to pop the bubble of tension between them. The walk was a silent one, the kind where their footsteps seemed to echo only for a moment before being cut off, the kind where the darkness swallowed up every noise they made. When he saw the crowd up ahead, he was relieved. This tension, this not-talking when they should have been talking, it was unfamiliar. It was a strange weight, an uncertain heaviness. But violence? A fight? Those things were etched into his bones, tucked within his marrow. This, at least, was something he knew how to do. This, at least, was something he was good at.

(It was, he thought, the only thing he was good at.)

When they got close, Rictor waited for Lorna to stop. He waited for her to come up with some plan, some battle strategy. That was never Rictor’s scene. For all the violence he’d known, none of it had ever been organized. Rictor’s brand of violence was chaotic. It was wild, limitless. It wouldn’t do well against a crowd of this size, but… Lorna didn’t have a plan. And it was another moment where he should have stopped, another beat where he should have turned them around, but he didn’t. (He’d hate himself for that later. He’d hate himself for so many things later.)

“All right,” he agreed with a shrug. “Let’s kick some ass.” The ground rumbled. Surprise, too, was not a thing Rictor did well.

LORNA: As they walked, it was like pushing everything down. Instead of tears, instead of guilt, she found strength and anger. The silence only helped. She didn't want to stop and think, knowing that if she did she'd only find reasons not to continue. Rictor wouldn't stop her unless she suggested it, it seemed, so she wasn't going to. Forget thinking; she'd spent a week overthinking everything.

The gathered humans looked up when the ground rumbled, destroying any hope of a surprise attack. Oh well, Lorna wasn't about to back down now. "I heard y'all are looking for mutants. Lucky you, you found them. Unluckily for you, you found us." She was far more used to keeping her balance as the ground shook than they were by the looks of things. But they recovered quickly, their shock turning to anger and anticipation. Perfect. Lorna smiled wryly, her hands glowing green as she hovered half a foot off the ground.

"Do your worst," she dared them. Half of them pulled weapons immediately, making Lorna laugh. So much metal. "Don't know know who I am? Or did you not expect someone like this?" In an instant, their weapons were pulled from their hands, turning towards them instead. But she hesitated before she could kill them. Because despite the lack of fight she'd put up against Ric's plan, she didn't want to. A flash of her mother's dead body rang in her mind before she tossed the weapons into the water.

RICTOR: There were more of them than he thought there’d be. That should have surprised him, but it didn’t. Rictor had learned a long time ago that there were numbers in hate, that nothing attracted a crowd faster than the promise of someone bleeding, that everyone preferred it when the person bleeding didn’t look like them. Genosha wasn’t a solution to the oppression mutants faced. It wasn’t a cure-all. It was a band-aid on a gaping wound, a quick patch-job on a mortal injury. Nothing drew people together quite like a common enemy, and no one made a better common enemy than a group of people not like you who lived on an island out of sight.

In place of surprise, perhaps he should have felt apprehension. There were more of them than he thought there’d be, and he didn’t have to be shocked by that but maybe he should have been hesitant. Maybe he should have taken a breath, taken a step back. He didn’t do that, either. They could handle it, he told himself, him and Lorna. They could handle it.

(He heard Guido’s voice in the back of his mind, low and gravelly and as close to gentle as Guido knew how to be. You ever hear of suicide by cop? The words echoed, bounced around in his head, and he wondered if there was a term for this, too. He wondered if there was a phrase that summed up his tendency to throw himself into death’s grip and be disappointed when he slipped through her fingers.)

The crowd noticed them quickly, but Rictor had known they would. He wasn’t subtle, and Lorna wasn’t in the right frame of mind to try to force him into that box. He didn’t flinch when the guns came out, didn’t look away, and the weapons were ripped from their hands in an instant. The weapons were gone, sinking into the ocean, swimming with the fishes, and Rictor snorted lightly. A few of the men charged forward, and he waved a hand. The ground rippled beneath their feet, rising up like an ocean wave. “She’s got the skies, I’ve got the ground. And you guys have jack shit.”

He could have told them to run, could have turned it into some kind of lesson. Stop being bigots, or picking on someone your own size means not picking on anyone bigger than you, either, maybe. It was what Scott or Jean would’ve done, what Rusty would’ve done, what Lorna would’ve done on any day but today. It wasn’t what Rictor did. It wasn’t who Rictor was. “So, do you guys like metal or rock? For, like, death. Not music.”

LORNA: They could handle it. Lorna knew they were outnumbered, and by a lot, but she didn't care. She could pull planes from the sky, tear them to pieces, at just three years old. These humans, these men--and they were almost all men--wouldn't touch her. Just off the ground as she was, Ric's powers didn't affect her as they did their attackers, leaving her to laugh as they were knocked off their feet.

But her laughter stopped quickly at Ric's comment. Metal or rock? For, like, death. Metal, like Arthur, pierced by the metal Erik controlled? Or rock like Suzanna, who hit the ground without a parachute? Or was Suzanna's death metal as well, the tearing of the plane under her feet? Lorna felt sick, blinking hard to push the images from her mind. Now was not the time. She couldn't afford to let it distract her, to consume her as it had threatened to do all week. Aside from one conversation with Scott, Lorna hadn't even begun to process it. But she couldn't allow that now.

She steeled her features, but her momentary distraction had allowed one opportunistic human to get closer than she intended. Lorna was quick to respond, beginning to summon a nearby discarded fixture to push the human back, but not quick enough. Before her projectile hit, he swung a wooden plank at her head. Lorna's feet hit the ground as she stumbled, her head spinning. She could feel blood there, but it wasn't enough to have her down and out yet. Pushing back to her feet, she scowled. The man who'd attacked her was down, having been hit half a second after he'd managed to hit her, but Lorna had plenty of others who seemed encouraged by the first blow.

RICTOR: Do you have to make everything a fight? It was something his cousin had asked him once, tired and irritated and disappointed, because those were the emotions Rictor had always been the best at drawing from the people around him. He couldn’t remember the specifics of the context now --- some argument with his father that had gone farther than he’d meant for it to, some petty disagreement that had become a war --- but he remembered those words. He remembered the way they drew a strangled laugh from his throat, the way he’d leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed, feigning indifference instead of heartache. Everything’s already a fight, he’d replied. I’m just the only guy smart enough to see it.

That was still true. Other people, people like the X-Men, they figured things could be solved with peaceful discussions and bloodless wars, but Rictor knew better. You couldn’t talk someone into seeing you as a person. You couldn’t convince someone to love you. Rictor knew now, just like he’d known as a kid in Mexico, that it was always a fight. You just had to be smart enough to throw the first punch.

So he did. He shook the ground, invited the men on it to come to him. And he lost himself, in the fight. There was one man, then two, then three. Enough to keep him focused. Enough to keep him entertained. Rictor was having fun. He usually did, when there was violence.

(And he didn’t see Lorna’s hesitation. He didn’t see the way she faltered on the battlefield. He didn’t see the enemy landing punches. There was a fight. There was always a fight. But Rictor had a bad habit of focusing on the wrong one.)

LORNA: Her head pounded more than her heart right now. If the man who'd hit her hadn't been hit hard enough to knock him out by the metal fixture, she would've hit him again. But as it was, she pushed the nausea--and the desire for revenge for that pain--aside to deal with the rest of them. You're still thinking small, though. Scrap is easy for your opponent to see, easy to predict... Erik's voice echoed in her mind, making her lip curl. But he was right. She was thinking small. You could tear a plane to pieces. There's metal all around you. Use it. The voice still sounded like Erik, mostly. But at the same time it sounded like her. She knew what he'd felt when he'd killed her step-father, that righteous, murderous anger. The knowledge that it'd be so easy, that she held the power in her fingers. Had she not felt that anger and want to do something powerful just minutes before that in the plane?

Lorna pushed it aside. Instead, she pulled a fence, using it to shove three men to the water, and wrap the next two who tried up tight. She didn't kill them--she couldn't bring herself to. Until she heard one of the hurl insults at her. Echoing words she'd heard so many times, pushing and pushing and pushing her closer towards the edge of that cliff she had always danced on. People so often saw her as a hero, as a leader, as good. They didn't know how close that edge was. How similar she could be to the worst sides of her father if she wanted. Or that she feared that she might not just become angry or cruel, she might just break.

She stalked towards the man, reveling in the way his confident anger turned to genuine fear. That satisfaction seemed to fuel her. Especially as she finally finally tapped into that power Erik kept trying to tell her to use. Metal could be whatever shape she wanted. And she wanted something sharp. Only when she held it to the man's chest, threatening to push it through him, she heard screams. Her own. Her step father's. Her mother's. Lorna hesitated again, stumbling as her breath caught in her throat. There was no time for this. No time for memories overwhelming her. But the memories didn't care. They'd waited twenty years to be heard, to be seen. They wouldn't leave her alone.

Lorna dropped the metal, closing her eyes for just a moment. All she could hear was those screams, and the salt of the water around them was replaced with smoke in her lungs. She gasped, trying to force it from her mind. But in those precious seconds, one human saw his chance. He still had a gun, one he hadn't pulled on Lorna initially and so hadn't ended up in the water. Lorna felt it when he fired, but too late. Half a second, quarter of a second, but too late nonetheless. As her eyes opened, it tore through her chest. Pain erupted as blood blossomed onto her shirt. The force of it pushed her back, knocking her from the docks. As she fell, her powers--trying in vain to stop the projectile that had already hit--pulsed outwards. A wave of electromagnetic energy shocked through their surroundings, rippling the water and destroying electronics in her range. Echoes of it spread far and wide to those who knew what to look for. Perhaps as far as Genosha. But none of it could stop what had already been done. Lorna gasped for air as she hit the water, aware only of the cold for a moment before everything went dark.

RICTOR: When he was a kid in Mexico, Rictor remembered playing in the streets with his cousins. He remembered the lot of them taking two fingers and a thumb, shaping them into guns and pointing them at one another amidst giggles and squeals. He remembered his father watching from the window, a furrow in his brow that Rictor hadn’t understood then, a concern he hadn’t recognized. He’d been so small, barely old enough to move from the title of baby to that of toddler, and his father hadn’t yet started putting the pressure to take over the family business on his shoulders. He’d had a few years yet, even if he hadn’t known it then. The memories were hazy, hard to grasp, coming in bits and pieces. Flashes of the laughter, flashes of his father’s face, and a conversation remembered only in fractions. ’It isn’t a game, Julio.’ His father’s voice, stern and serious as it had always been. ’These things aren’t a game.’

Rictor should have listened to him, back then. He should have taken those words to heart. Even if nothing else his father said was true, that still was. Violence wasn’t a game. War wasn’t a hobby. It was cold and it was bitter and it was unforgiving and Rictor was good at it, but there would always be someone better. No matter what.

But he got cocky. He got arrogant, got reckless. He was so in the fight, so in his own head, that he didn’t recognize anything outside of it until the vibrations changed. A gun firing was a distinctive thing. The way the trigger acted as a catalyst, the way the firing pin shot forward and set off an explosion so small that most people didn’t know it happened at all. The way the gunpowder ignited, the way the pressure changed to force the bullet out of its casing. Those things didn’t happen with two thumbs and a finger, but with the real deal? It all went very quickly. Everything happened at once.

It was close by, close enough that he knew it could only be coming from one place. A trigger released. The dominoes fell. Rictor was a kid in Mexico watching his father hit the ground. He was a directionless twentysomething seeing Rusty fall from across the battlefield. He was a hanged man turning just in time to see a muzzle flash and blood spreading across a shirt, splattering out onto the tips of green hair. It was all happening at once, and for a moment ---

For a moment, the world stopped, and all Rictor could think about was the stupid magic eight ball his uncle bought him when he was eight years old. He remembered his cousin, a few years older and already so deep within the family business that there was no hope of any way out, furiously jealous that Rictor got a toy that was not a gun, bitter that Rictor got something to play with that wasn’t designed to hurt anyone. He remembered the way he’d slammed the plastic ball against the wall hoping it might shatter, remembered his own relief when the ball seemed unharmed at first. It was only when he tried shaking it that he realized the dice inside had gotten stuck somehow, realized it wouldn’t move off the same side, realized it answered every question with the same reply. Ask again later. No matter how hard he shook it, the dice stayed where it was. Ask again later, ask again later, ask again later.

The world was frozen, but it wasn’t because he was moving it. The whole damn planet was shaking furious and desperate and looking for an answer and those three words were burned into the inside of his eyelids even now, impossible to get away from. What had happened? How had they gotten here? How had they gone from having it under control to this in such a short amount of time? Why did tragedy always happen all at once?

Ask again later, ask again later, ask again later, ask again later, ask again -

The world stilled all at once, and Rictor realized, belatedly, that he was the only one still moving. The protestors left standing were on the ground now, blood pouring from their eyes, their ears, their noses, and it occurred to him that it wasn’t just the world he was shaking, but them too. Their insides, their outsides, everything that made them them. None of them were breathing, none of their hearts were beating and ---

And neither was Lorna’s.

He felt sick at the realization, felt her in the water and understood that she’d already been in there too long. He should have jumped in immediately, should have stopped the gun from firing, should have saved his father, should have saved Rusty, should have saved her.

The distance between him and the edge of the dock disappeared before he knew he’d moved, and water rushed around his ears before it registered that he’d jumped in. ’You’re dissociating.’ That therapist’s voice in his head, just as smug now as it had been in the one session he’d sat through. ’Separating yourself from the trauma. Is that something you do often?’ He pushed it aside, eyes burning with salt water as he swam down, down, down. There was red in the water. There was green, too. Like traffic lights giving off opposing signals, signs telling him stop and go at the same time. His fingers found skin, and he gripped her tightly without knowing what he was holding, swam to the surface with all the strength he had in him. Later, he wouldn’t know how he’d pulled her back onto the dock. He didn’t think it mattered much.

They were out of the water, and her skin was still warm. That meant she hadn’t been in there long, he figured. But her heart was still in her chest, heavy like a stone, and Rictor fought to keep his mind here and not in the graveyard outside Xavier’s years ago, when he’d felt Rusty in his coffin, felt his heart unmoving in his chest, felt helpless in every way. His throat ached in that ‘about-to-cry’ kind of way, or maybe in the ‘already-crying’ kind. It was hard to tell, hard to concentrate on anything except for the fact that she wasn’t breathing and her heart wasn’t beating and ---

Another memory. Illyana -- no, Darkchylde, looming a few feet in front of him. I’ll pop your heart like a fucking balloon. Stopping a heart was easy. He’d just done it on the docks, done it to twenty odd men at once without even trying, without thinking.

Wasn’t starting one the same idea?

Rictor closed his eyes, clenched them shut so tightly it hurt a little, concentrated on that still, unmoving rock that was settled inside her chest. He concentrated on his own heart, racing and nervous but beating. He put a hand on her chest, and it wasn’t necessary but it was a comfort. A security blanket, a way of easing his mind. He focused on his heart beating, on hers laying still until ---

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The sound was deafening. Rictor fell backwards, choked on a sob as he landed on his back in a puddle that might have been water or blood or both. He let himself go still for a moment, a quick, shared heartbeat, and then dragged himself to his feet again.

She was dying. She was still dying. He started her heart, but he couldn’t keep it going indefinitely. He couldn’t keep it beating if there was no blood for it to pump through her veins. And there was only one place to take her.

He could see the lights across the ocean, and there were no ferries this late. It wouldn’t have mattered if there were, wouldn’t have made a difference because Rictor carrying a bleeding, unconscious woman onto a boat would raise too many questions and waste too much time. Steeling himself, he scooped her up into his arms and walked towards the dock, stiff and uncertain. A foot hovered over the ocean, and he could feel the earth beneath the water. He called it up to meet him, and there was a stepping stone of dry land.

He put another foot forward, and there was another.

Closing his eyes, Rictor nodded to himself. He could do this. He could. It was just one foot in front of the other and a soundtrack of two beating hearts.

He ran.

LORNA: Her world went dark. But there was a few moments before it ended. Before her heart stopped, as water filled her lungs. As blood soaked her shirt as much as the water did. And those moments stretched into eternity. Anger, finally, bled away, leaving her only with grief and sorrow. Leaving her only with the pain she had tried to escape, that ached worse than the bullet that lodged itself in her chest. Regrets bubbled up with the final gasps of air escaping her lungs. Leaving as she had, refusing to return even for the holidays she had so looked forward to (their first on Genosha), holding so tight to her anger as her shield.

All she could feel was pain. And yet, she still heard screams. Still smelt smoke. Tasted metal in her mouth. Was that the plane she'd torn apart, or her blood? Were those whimpers of fear from her step-father or the men she'd towered over as she gained only satisfaction from their fear? Anger was easier than grief, than guilt, than tears. But it made her reckless. She'd always been prone to recklessness. Episodes of feeling untouchable. But it was just that; a feeling. The pain was fading now, and Lorna regretted that she had left her family on such an angry note. Now that the anger left her as her heart beat did, what was she left with?

She didn't expect to feel anything else. Did not expect the pain to come rushing back like she'd been shot again, as air forced water to spill from her lungs, from her mouth. (She should've expected more of Ric. People underestimated him, but he'd just saved her from her own destruction.) Light filled her world again, but only for a moment, before pain eclipsed it, pulling her back under with an echo of the first pulse, rippling out across the water as she sank back into darkness and oblivion.

#c:ric #violence tw #death tw #ptsd tw #memory alteration tw #trauma tw #bigotry tw #guns tw #suicide ideation tw

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stattic-writes · 4 years

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Baby Daddy Pt 4

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

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thehollowprince said: And I also stand by the opinion that they could have just done a solo run of the O5 X-Men starting a new timeline with the information they got from the future.

thehollowprince said: Its not like Marvel doesn’t constantly do AUs and retcons

OMG Josh you have no idea how bad I wanted this. They could’ve done SO MUCH with that concept. Letting the 05 keep their foreknowledge and the world they could have created with that?

They could’ve averted the initial Krakoan mission and saved Darwin, Gabe, Petra and Sway in the first place. They could have all been X-Men from their Day One, Scott and Alex would have actually gotten to KNOW their brother and Gabe quite possibly would never have gone full Dark Side despite the writers apparently now seeming obsessed with the idea there’s just something innately bad within Gabe that’s always destined to bear fruit at some point, ugh, whatever, like who do you think you are, Kant?

They could’ve recruited the Giant Size X-Men lineup earlier, and saved John Proudstar, who side by side with his brother Jamie, are a force to be reckoned with.

They could have convinced Pietro and Wanda to join them instead of the Avengers and been like no but seriously that way lies nothing but shitty storylines and bad decisions that will be blamed on you by your teammates despite the fact that any and all of the bad decisions that were ACTUALLY yours could have been averted if any of your teammates were capable of functioning as an actual support system. Come join us. We have actual support systems, except for the times when we don’t, but we recruited Deadpool to break the fourth wall and he and Logan are currently cutting through the ranks of every writer who would write as hating and fighting each other instead of being a loving fucking family goddammit.

Jean could have faced the Phoenix head-on when the time for that came, using her knowledge of the future not to fear an inevitable death, but rather to know she had nothing TO fear, that the power to not control this force, but just be ONE with it, with no NEED to control it or be controlled by it, a symbiotic union, two beings in harmony deciding on courses of action together. The Phoenix’s innate powers and prerogative of rebirth and destruction tempered by Jean’s mercy, aimed and focused by Jean’s reason, the double-edged sword that is fire capable of warming homes or destroying them completely combined with Jean’s conscience guiding it to use its power for the former rather than the latter.

They could have stopped the Legacy Virus from getting out and killing millions as well as spared us from migraines induced by an AIDS metaphor so shitty at being a metaphor most people forget it was literally written to be an AIDS metaphor.

The body swap would never have happened and Kwannon could have joined the X-Men as a full member from the time she was introduced, rather than dragged along in the wake of Betsy’s tangled storylines for a couple decades.

They could have stopped Fitzroy from killing the Hellions. Hell, if they train Illyana early enough and have her mentored by Wanda who is perfectly fucking competent when left to her own devices, then like, maybe they can even take a jaunt to the future to save Fitzroy from dying in the first place and being resurrected with no soul. Not gonna lie, ever since then I’ve kinda been seriously interested in what the hell would a hero version of Trevor freaking Fitzroy even BE like, y’know? Call it morbid fascination, but like. I kinda want it, guys. LOL.

Add to that note, they could have taken another jaunt to the future and rescued Rachel from being made into a Hound by Ahab. Through the power of some convoluted plot tangle I just made up for convenience, Scott still ends up in a relationship with Maddy briefly, in one of those self-fulfilling prophecy type things where he went into it with the full intention of just averting the future and saving Maddy from her fate as the Goblyn Queen, but somehow ended up in a love triangle with a very alive Jean and Maddy who is fully informed of Sinister’s shenanigans and quite displeased with that asshole, and look, I don’t know how all of this goes exactly, but let’s cut to the chase, my only real endgame with this is making sure that Nate’s born properly, saved from Apocalypse and the techno-virus by the combined efforts of Scott, Maddy and Jean as well as Uncles Warren, Bobby and Hank, and Jean calls up the Phoenix through some psychic bond or whatever and is like hey girl, can I hit you up for a loan real quick? Got some losers that need toasting.

And in this AU the Phoenix totally has her back, and one brief cosmic power-up and gratuitous Sailor Moon transformation later, Jean glows and intones some epic one-liners with appropriate gravitas, and then just punts both Apocalypse and Sinister to the far side of the universe, never to be seen or heard from again. They like, hit a black hole on the way there I guess. It was very sad. Violin strings may commence with the requiem. Okay that’s enough, they can stop now.

So then through the plot contrivances of fuck you, I said so, Scott and Maddy ultimately part amicably and Scott and Jean get back together and the three of them civilly co-parent both baby Nate and Rachel, as Maddy keeps the healing powers she gained as Anodine and stays with the X-Men for her own reasons.

The telepaths are all better trained by the expertise Jean gained in her powers while in the future, so the next time the Shadow King comes bumming around looking to cause chaos, Betsy, Emma and Jean just look at each other and laugh and say nuh-uh before psychically squishing him into a marble.

Warren never becomes Archangel. Onslaught isn’t a thing. They make nice with Magneto and say okay you may have a couple points, let’s discuss. Bishop arrives in the past for reasons totally unrelated to his original story, has no traitor to seek out among the X-Men, and thus he and Gambit end up besties in complete defiance of that stupid fucking story and because I just think they’re neat together. Yes I said neat. Gambit and Bishop are just neat. Deal with it.

Bishop still hates that Fitzroy guy though, he’s like, I don’t even know what it is about that guy, he just rubs me the wrong way, even though Fitzroy is not evil here and has always done good with his powers, which are channeled through a device Forge made him that lets him just absorb life force from a wide range around him, spread out and diluted enough that its like, the grass feels weird for a second, like whoa what even was that, and then its over. Actually, y’know what, scratch that. Fitzroy’s powers are stupid and unnecessary the way they are now anyway, so fuck it, this Fitzroy doesn’t need life force or whatever, he’s just a dude who makes time portals. He’s like Illyana with green hair and that ugly goatee. Hey I said this Fitzroy was non-evil, not that he was perfect.

Bobby’s out and proud since he was sixteen, and with actual competence and proficiency with his powers, which make him a Literal Unkillable Gay Icon, he’s an inspiration to LGBTQ+ teens everywhere and inspires other gay, bi and trans heroes to come out. He’s a big brother figure to all the baby gays that later join the X-Men, like, Rictor comes to him for advice back during the time equivalent to early X-Factor, when Rictor’s a trying-too-hard sixteen year old who thought college age Bobby was like the coolest, which is valid, because X-Factor Bobby was like A+ Bobby characterization and deserves more reads.

So Rictor comes out earlier as well, and by the time they even meet Shatterstar, instead of a slow burn friends to roommates to lovers scenario, Rictor takes one look at the love of his life and wastes no time coming out swinging with an absolutely terrible pick up line. Look, I said his big brother figure Bobby was out and proud in this AU, not that he magically had a better sense of humor. Some things just don’t change, y’know? Luckily, Shatterstar is a weirdo, and thus he finds terrible pick-up lines charming. At least when its Rictor saying them. They walk off for a first date, already practically hand in hand, voices fading into the distance as Rictor asks “By the way, have you met Dazzler yet? According to Bobby, apparently she’s your mom. That Longshot dude with the mullet over there is your dad I guess. We should go say hi.”

Hank gets an assistant hand-picked by the rest of the original X-Men, and who has one job and one job only. To follow him around and observe all his experiments, and he has veto power over experiments that People With IQs As High As Yours Should Know Better But I Guess You’ve Got Reed Richards Syndrome.

Hank’s like, “Hmm, if I built a time machine I could go back to the Jurassic Period and observe whether my theory of - “

Hank’s assistant: “Veto.”

“Damn. Okay I was also thinking of making a deep space communicator that can reach into the farthest reaches of space beyond any known civilization and just say hi, y’know? See if anyone’s out there.”

“Veto.”

“If I combine these genetically modified antibodies here with this strain of of DNA from - “

“Veto.”

“Well Forge built this device that does this to mutant powers but I think I can make it do - “

“Veto.”

“These nanobots I - “

“VETO,”

“Honestly, at this point I think you’re just saying that just because you like saying it.”

“Dr. McCoy, I promise you, I’m really, really not.”

Logan finds out about his future clan of stabby children, and seeks them out. He rescues Daken from Romulus, somebody stabs that loser with the immortal-killing sword, I don’t even care who, and after a few tense months of Logan trying too hard, he and Daken eventually bond over how hockey just isn’t violent enough. If you’re going to make a sport all about hitting each other, just really go for it or don’t even bother, y’know? Logan claps him on the shoulder and sniffs. That’s my boy. Then they find and rescue Laura and Gabby and take a road trip to Earth 1610 to pick up Jimmy. They have a house on campus, and new students walking by it are used to hearing loud growling and even howls. They were assured during orientation that that’s nothing to worry about, it just means the House of Snikt are watching a game and are rooting for opposing sides.

Emma’s recruited practically the day they get back. She’s only just started at the Hellfire Club and has only done a tiny bit of Evil when Warren schedules an appointment with her, and then he, Scott and Jean make a better pitch than Shaw and his ilk could ever match. They’ve been to the future. Come join with us and we’ll give you an all access pass to memories detailing exactly what’s going to happen in these particular areas and many more. All you have to do is ask. Oh and also please don’t seduce any married teammates. Its bad form. To be honest, I don’t think it’ll be an issue because Deadpool assures us Morrison has been taken care of, and don’t worry if that makes no sense to you, its a head-scratcher for us to. Just roll with it.

Nate ages normally here so its not like he ends up besties with forty year old Wade, but the latter having his own plot-contrived knowledge of the future because He’s Just Like That, decides that he won’t be denied at least SOME kind of bond with The Bestie That Wasn’t. He becomes Nate’s official babysitter. Well, not official, seeing as how Scott, Jean and Maddy don’t hire him and are very clear that their son is not to be left alone with this man at any time, he is a terrible influence and he keeps giving our kid guns. But then Wade just shows up anytime they’re out because he just has a sixth sense for Making Trouble, and he terrifies away whatever babysitter’s there and greets the returning and exasperated parents with a cheery wave.

“I know what you’re going to say, but don’t worry, we didn’t do anything dangerous or against the law. All we did today was I taught him to make bombs, but we were very careful, we wore safety goggles and really, they were very little bombs. Not even anything atomic. I honestly don’t think any of them could have even blown up this whole house, and I’ve been meaning to say, I’m not impressed with the structural integrity of this place. Couldn’t you have picked something with a sturdier foundation? Its like you don’t even expect random space mercenaries to attack your place out of the blue every other month. Have any of you even read a single issue of your own comics?”

Scott’s jaw twitches Ominously. Wade starts gathering up his things. Jean rubs her forehead wearily.

“Wade, what do you even think ‘dangerous’ means?”

Wade pauses and cocks his head. Gives it a solid twenty seconds of thought. Then he shrugs.

“I don’t know actually. Don’t think I’ve ever really thought about it. I always figured it was just one of those things people just say. Like, ‘oh, it looks like rain today,’ even if they’re not a forecaster and have no real meteorological credentials to speak of. ‘Oh, this mission will be dangerous,’ and I don’t even have to use up all my ammo and I only get shot twice. Y’know?”

“Leave,” Scott says. More like intones. House shakes a little bit but that might just be Wade’s imagination. Its very active.

“Leaving!” He says hastily. He jumps through the closed window and then teleports away amid the falling shower of broken glass. Why didn’t he do that while he was still inside the room? No one knows. Not even Wade knows. Why did the chicken cross the road? Who the fuck cares, now is it Original Recipe or Crispy?

Scott, Jean and Maddy search the house while Nate angelically claims they won’t find anything, Wade doesn’t even bring him cool stuff anymore cuz he knows you’ll just take it.

Maddy finds a high-tech laser space gun under a floorboard in the closet. She holds it up with one eyebrow raised pointedly. Scott and Jean flank her and their own eyebrows raise in solidarity. Well Jean’s does. Scott’s probably does but its hard to tell sometimes. Depends on what glasses or visor he’s wearing.

“That was already there,” Nate tries. Most powerful telepath and telekinetic in the world, but the kid can’t lie for shit. There’s not much point in trying when one of your moms is the freaking Phoenix, and that’s a skill that takes practice he just doesn’t have.

The three sets of parental eyebrows make a V, judgingly.

“One month of no video games or TV?” Okay, so terrible liar but quick on his feet. At least he knows when he’s beat and jumps straight to trying to shape his own punishment proactively.

“Two months. And no flying lessons either,” Jean says. “And don’t pout at me, young man. You know the rules. No weapons inside the house unless your grandpa Corsair is visitng and we’re too tired to fight him on keeping knives under his pillow. This is a Do As We Say, Not As We Do house. Deal with it. Now, this is going with the others and you can have it back when you’re eighteen.”

It would have been three months, but Jean and Maddy caught a telepathic sniff from Scott. He’s just so proud of his kid thinking so tactically. He’s growing up so fast. Both women mentally roll their eyes. Why is he like this.

“I don’t see what the big deal is anyway,” Nate sulks. “Its just a stupid laser gun. I mean, Uncle Gabe blew up our last house with his brain.”

“Yes and it was an accident and he feels absolutely terrible about that which is why we’re not going to bring it up when he and Armando come visit this weekend, right?”

“You can have my full compliance for two weeks off my sentence.”

“Or we can have your full compliance or two weeks will be added to your sentence,” Maddy says.

“You guys suck,” declares the ten year old vessel of near unlimited psychic might. He goes to his room, stomping all the way up the stairs so his grievances can be heard even by the House of Snikt next door. Course, they’ve already been listening to the whole thing with their enhanced hearing. There was nothing good on TV. Jimmy made popcorn and chewed with his mouth open just to piss off Daken.

‘The second Father leaves the room, I am going to stab you in such a slow healing place you’ll still be bleeding at bed time.’ Daken mouths at his little brother from another universe. Jimmy scrunches his face in confusion.

‘What?’ He mouths back. He’s terrible at reading lips. Or anything that isn’t skateboarding, really. And yet Father’s so happy that ‘at least one of my kids is content with stupid normal stuff and doesn’t go around drawing cover fire just because a mission is going so well its boring and they haven’t even gotten to pop their claws out yet.’

“That’s only because you’ve coddled him. He’s barely ever even been shot at. Just the one time on vacation in Majipoor and he wasn’t even the target, the assassin was aiming for me. If you would just let me take him on a proper outing to gain some real experience - “

“Not gonna happen.” Logan shuts that down real quick.

“Really Father, just look at him. He has zero situational awareness. I’ve been glaring a hole in the back of his head for a full minute now and he has no idea. That could just as easily be an actual laser scope, you know. He’s a disgrace to the whole family.”

“Daken, we’ve been over this,” Logan says firmly. “You have your sisters to bond with over gratuitous violence. Leave your brother alone. I don’t want anyone traumatizing him until trauma finds him all on its own. It’ll happen sooner or later, he’s as much a part of this family as anyone and that means its as good as done already, so there’s no need to hurry it along. If later on he decides he’s got a taste for it, you can take him on all the outings to get shot at that you want. But he’s gotta figure it out for himself first, and he doesn’t need his big brother being the one who introduces him to all that. He idolizes you, you know.”

Daken scoffs. He can’t even get the brat to chew with his mouth closed.

“He cut his hair from that style he liked so much, just because you hated it so much,” Logan says obliviously. Daken nods like he’s conceding the argument and hastens from the room while he can still keep his mouth shut. It won’t benefit anyone at this point to tell their father that Jimmy really only cut his hair because Daken told him he would set it on fire if he didn’t.

Ugh, families are the worst. Don’t even get him started on Laura stealing some of his clothes to wear without asking. And then has the gall to yell back at him when he yells “Silk! Its the finest cut of silk! Does that mean nothing to you?” at her.

“Oh get over it. Its not like I asked for killer robots to interrupt my date.”

“Of course they were going to interrupt your date with that Julian boy. I keep telling you, he’s a magnet for trouble. I can tell. I’m one too, remember?”

“Fine, whatever, you’re right and I should just expect every date with Julian from now until the end of time to end with fire and disaster.”

“Well now you’re being melodramatic. There’s no way that boy makes it past twenty five. He doesn’t even have a healing factor.”

“Why do you hate him so much anyway? If you’d just give him a chance - “

“What are you talking about? I give him a chance every single time he’s here and I don’t kill him.”

“Ugh, I can’t even talk to you when you’re like this. You always do this, you just decide on something and then you commit to that like the fate of the world depends on you standing firm on what’s usually a completely arbitrary decision in the first place!”

Daken sniffs. “I can assure you, there’s absolutely nothing arbitrary about my disdain for the Keller boy.”

“His name is Julian,” Laura enunciates with a glare.

“I don’t care,” Daken enunciates with an expression of lofty superiority.

“You two are so dumb,” Gabby says from the end of the hallway. They both turn identical glares on her. They’d noticed her arrive several minutes ago but they weren’t about to be distracted from their battle of wills. “Laura, you know Daken isn’t actually going to kill Julian. He doesn’t do that anymore except for really bad people sometimes and he just talks about stabbing people or killing them cuz he thinks he’s funny and then he gets all pissy because nobody ever gets that he doesn’t really mean it. He doesn’t even hate Julian and he used to be fine with him before he started dating you, its just he doesn’t think he’s good enough for you.”

Daken frowns at the petite would-be peacemaker. Meddlesome toddler. “What are you even babbling about? None of that is remotely true.”

Gabby rolls her eyes up at her brother from her much lower height. She taps the side of her nose with emphasis. “You do know we all have the same abilities to smell and analyze scents as you do, right? And you know everything you can tell from peoples’ scent, right? Of course I’m right, I can smell it as clear as anything and so can Jimmy and Dad and we actually all know this and talk about it all the time, and its why Dad never actually gets mad at you for talking about killing people because he can smell you’re saying it just cuz you’re used to saying it but really you’re too marshmallowy on the inside now to do half the stuff you claim you’re gonna do. Hate to break it to you bro, but you’re a closet softie and you’ve been made. The nose doesn’t lie. Only reason Laura doesn’t know it is because you piss her off like its your favorite hobby and its probably impossible for her to smell anything beyond her own scent of Royally Pissed Off.”

Ugh. Meddlesome insightful toddler. Who asked for her intervention anyway? Daken crosses his arms in a way that’s decidedly aloof and not at all sulking.

Laura’s staring at their sister assessingly. “That’s really what you think is going on? And Jimmy and Dad think so too? You’re not just saying all that?”

Gabby bats her eyes up at them. “Would I lie to you?”

“Yes,” Laura says without missing a beat.

“Without a shadow of a doubt,” Daken says dryly, right on her heels.

“For the sake of a candy bar,” Laura adds, because that really did happen.

“Or just boredom, because god forbid you pick up another hobby that isn’t just Chaos.”

“This from the guy who only has fun when there’s blood and bullets flying about,” Gabby fires back from a position of petite petulance.

Daken smirks down at her. “Didn’t you just say I don’t really mean it when I say all of that?”

Gabby narrows her eyes. “Touché. My own words thrown back at me. I am undone.”

“Yes, well - “

Daken’s cut off as Jimmy chooses that moment to walk past them down the hallway to the bathroom. He’s laughing and shaking his head.

“You guys are both so dumb. She plays you like this all the time, and you never see it.”

“Silence, mortal!” Gabby thunders at their brother menacingly. The effect is somewhat diminished by the fact that she can’t hit a baritone note to save her life.

“No, I’m interested in hearing what he has to say,” Daken says coolly. “For once. This is a moment without precedent and one unlikely to occur again, so let’s explore it a bit.”

Jimmy sighs and shakes his head without ever losing that amused smirk. “Had to tack on that last part, didn’t you. Just couldn’t help yourself.”

“I am a faithful student of the Truth,” Daken says, matching his brother smirk for smirk.

“The point, Jimmy?” Laura prods aggressively before that can erupt into a wholly separate thing she wants no part of.

“Oh, right.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Its kinda her thing with you two when you get like this. You pick a fight with Laura, Laura gets pissed off and succumbs to the family curse of Tunnel Vision at the Worst Possible Time, and you both go back and forth endlessly and like you have all the time in the world for your stupid tete a tete, because on account of you both being practically unkillable and immortal, you kinda do and you know it. And then whenever she gets bored of listening to you two, Gabby swoops in and draws both of your attention until you’re both so focused on being annoyed with her you don’t even realize you’re actually side by side agreeing with each other, and she keeps it up just long enough til she’s sure she can just say she’s bored now and just leave the room, leaving you both annoyed and frustrated by a fight you can’t even claim to have won because she really just kinda...left, in the middle of it, and you’re so focused on that, you’ve totally forgotten to be pissed at each other. And by the time you do remember, like, the moment has passed and peace has been returned to the kingdom. Or at least as peaceful as this place ever gets.”

Daken stares at his mistake of a brother in the hopes that if he stalled long enough, his senses would arrive at a different conclusion. But nope. Scents don’t lie, unlike baby sis, apparently. He’s telling the truth. And Daken really does not....care for that conclusion.

Gabby stamps her foot and glares up at their brother.

“You are such a tattletale. I am providing a service, by keeping this family free of these two constantly at each others throats, and how is that service repaid? With betrayal! I hate you, you’re dead to me. Never speak to me again or at least not until I’ve stopped being mad at you, but that could be like ten years or something, I don’t even know right now.”

She draws up to her full height and squares her shoulders as she thunders this Mighty Mouse style at the still laughing Jimmy. Then, seeing she’d yet to make a dent in his armor of amusement and he was failing to take her pronouncement seriously, she punctuated her declaration by spitting on their brother’s shoe. Daken’s eyebrows shoot up again, this time in amusement of his own. Gabby then spins around on her heel and stalks off down the hallway, muttering more dire threats under her breath as she goes, the sound of them nonetheless carrying clearly to three siblings with enhanced hearing of their own. And apparently, little sis could be quite creative. Who knew she’d been hiding such talent?

Jimmy barely even notices; he’s still staring down at his shoe.

“Dude, you spit on me! That’s so not cool.”

“Some things need to be expressed so strongly, mere words will not suffice,” Daken says loftily, savoring a slightly renewed sense of superiority.

One quickly dashed, of course, because apparently he just can’t have anything.

“Bold words from the seventy year old who needed the sixteen year old to clue him in he’s being regularly manipulated by the twelve year old,” Jimmy fires back. As a return volley, its obnoxiously effective, and Daken’s still grinding his teeth and searching for an adequate rejoinder as Jimmy just grins even wider and then strolls off down the hallway as well. Whistling either an absolutely hideous song or else proof that he’s absolutely hideous at whistling. Tough call. With him it could be either.

Daken and Laura both stare after him in silence as he rounds the corner and disappears, leaving only the lingering scent of smugness in his wake. Daken hates the scent of smugness. It has a particularly....cloying feel to it. Well not his of course. But everyone else’s, especially little brothers? Acrid is the only word adequate for that.

“Sometimes I really do want to stab him. Just a little bit. And I’m not even lying,” Daken says. Laura just nods, her own nose scrunched up in distaste as well.

“Honestly? Me too.”

Brother and sister enjoy the rare moment of solidarity.

“You know what’s really bugging me?” Laura says suddenly, still staring off down the hallway. Daken turns an inquiring eye on her, prompting elucidation. She frowns.

“Where the hell did he learn a phrase like tete a tete? I mean. Its Jimmy.”

Daken does know what she means, and frowns as the nagging awareness of that leaps from his sister to himself like memetic chain lightning.

“And he used it correctly. That’s....unexpected.”

“Sometimes I wonder if maybe he’s not as completely airheaded as he pretends, and the fact that he’s got everyone so convinced of that actually means he’s running circles around the rest of us,” Laura says. She shrugs. “Of course, then I have to question everything and who has that kind of time and also the very idea of genius mastermind Jimmy disturbs me on a deeply visceral level. So then I just. Stop doing that.”

Daken nods and sighs. “Sometimes, that’s all you can do.”

“Okay, this is annoying. I kinda still want to fight, but now fighting with you feels kinda anticlimactic. Ugh, siblings are the worst,” Laura declares with a glower. “They ruin everything.”

“On that, we can agree. With allowances for temporary occasions of some of them being bearable,” Daken says. “Some.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve never said to me, big brother,” Laura says lightly. Daken swiftly scowls but she holds up a hand to forestall any rebuttal. “Sorry, don’t mean to ruin the moment. I’m thinking about how else we can put all that frustrated energy to good use. Wanna go pick a fight with the Summers’ kids?”

A slow smile spreads across Daken’s face. “Well now. Finally, a family outing I can get behind. I believe that’s precisely what we need right now. Care to lead the way?”

He still hates her boyfriend, of course, but he supposes he can let that be.

For now, at least.

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oncerpotter2018 · 4 years

Text

DAY 3 - TOUGHER THAN THE REST // Held At Gun Point

Erik stood silently as his lungs tightened knowing there was nothing Charles could do any longer. He had to accept his fate and it was up to Charles to learn the lesson he needs to teach himself.

"No, you can't. There has to be another way. I can protect you. I can keep you safe, please just don't go" pleaded Charles as he took Erik's hand and held it in place. He tugged onto his arm so Erik would face his direction, once he was looking him straight in the eyes Charles pulled him down and kissed him full on the lips.

"I love you" Charles whispered breaking apart after a minute to breathe. Charles places his free hand on his lover's cheek and stroked them gently with his thumb. Erik smiled, a half hearted smile as he kissed Charles' head. He lifted his chin and kissed his lips once more.

"I love you too" he said pulling his Charles closer towards him, their foreheads touching.

"But what?" Charles knowing there is a catch to his words of affection. Erik sighed, his hot breath on Charles' skin, giving of the sense of life.

"But... I must go" he looks up, his hand still on Charles' own. Charles looked up into Erik's blue grey eyes and noticed the tears that began to fall from both of their eyes. Charles bursted into tears as he gave Erik what seemed to be their final hug. Their final goodbye.

"Please, if this is waht you want then go, but if you change your mind, you'll know where to find me" he said, his face still buried onto Erik's chest. The smell of his turtleneck and leather jacket would be the last thing he'll ever know. It was the autum smell, the feeling of wet leaves and dewdrops in the early hours of the morning. He'll miss that.

Erik hugged back wanting to savour the moment, to keep this memory alive.

"That's a done promise. There won't be a day that goes by that I won't be looking for a way back to you" said Erik taking back Charles into his arms. His eyes blurred with tears that still ran from his eyes. He kissed Charles one last time before he loosen his grip and let go of Charles' hand. Before he left, Charles ran after him, his arms waving wildly.

"Wait!" he cried, crashing into Erik once more.

"Charles, what's the matter?" Erik asked concerned as Charles went for a final hug. It was tight and if he hugged any tighter Erik could swear his heart would be in his throat.

"I just can't lose you.. I love you" he said one last time.

"I know... I know. I love you too" He said back, his heart beating slowly, his eyes closed for a few moments before something was slipped into his hand. Charles closer his finger upon the object before Erik had time to look.

"Don' look let, just promise me you'll remember me, that you'll always love me" Charles said. Erik closed his fingers firmly keeping to Charles' promise.

"I will"

Once he said those words, Charles let him go. He let him go knowing this was what he wanted. This was what Erik wanted. Charles watched as Erik took one last good look at him as he he began to disappear into the building.

Erik entered the glass doors knowing for the last time he was leaving Charles for good. When the people in the entrance noticed the man in the room, the panic in their eyes raised for the alarm but were surprised when Erik raised his hands in the air placing them behind his head and went on his knees. Without a moment to think, security entered and as quick as they came, they restrained Erik and took him deep down below the grounds of the Pentagon. They had been waiting for this day, the day for Erik Lehnserr, Magneto himself to either be taken down or have him surrender, it seems that the submission was the option in this case. But no matter how he was obtained they were just glad to know after what they had planned the world would soon be a better place.

"In here Lehnserr" said a guard pointing to a room made of glass and plastic. As Erik passed the man all he saw was the sickness and madness in his eyes, the wicked smile on his face.

"Come on Lehnserr, don't tell us you're scared?" mocked another man who stood by the door next to the other, smiling at his defeat. Erik didn't say a word as he entered the room. The men outside whispered something like that he couldn't hear but Erik knew that it wasn't good. When he had gotten a chance to sleep, his mind sadly drifted off to wondering where Charles was. What was he doing and how was he coping with his absence. All these questions were racing through his mind but all was interruped when strong arms gripped him tightly.

Erik tried to move, to do something to escape the graps that held him in his place. He struggled for freedom but something had punched him in the stomach making his body bend over. His lungs hurting from the constant pressure of the punches, either way he didn't know what was happening let alone who dared to punish him so.

"Get him up!" commanded a deep voice from the entrance and in an instance Erik knew who was talking.

"What do you want to do with him?" asked the other man beside him, his eyes looking at Erik's already bruised body. The other man gave a heavy laugh before walking over to where Erik was and yanked Erik by the hair, his throat titling back.

"Take him to the operation room, we have to make sure he gets the message" he replied to the young guard as he pushed Erik hard back to the ground. The others nodded at the request and with rough hands yanked Erik up not caring about his whimpers and cries. After a moments of wanting answers to whatever was going on the answers were finally given to him when a sharp pain entered his skin. This feeling went on for hours as if he was regretting his decision but there was nothing that could be done as he slipped out of consciousness. When he woke up, his arms couldn't move, his hips, chest and legs constrained only to realise he was strapped down, his body refusing to move. He tried to speak but even then he couldn't knowing that something was in his mouth that was blocking his words.

"Ah, Mr Lehnserr" said a voice from the doorway as the male approached Erik. "We much thank you for bringing yourself to us. You made our job a whole lot easier" the man said, his gloved hands stroking Erik's hair before a hand gripped his throat tightly. He squeezed chocking the life out of Erik even though he couldn't already breath from the gag. The man let go as Erik tried coughing, to get air back to his lungs, it was struggle, there was no denying that.

"Where do we begin, Dr?" said a female voice that Erik didn't recognise. He didn't even know who these people were, they seemed new for he had been arrested many time over getting used to the faces and voices of those keeping him away but these people were not those people. They were completely different.

"Hm, let's see now" the first man spoke, thinking of what vile torment he could possible do to Erik. Soon after a brief session of thinking the Dr got it, he fashioned an old timely device that would surely cause the most impact.

In what seemed to be an unethical approach to handling high risk prisoners, the bad doctor seemed to have no sense in eithical methods whatsoever. He had striked Erik hard, five, ten or even twenty times more getting stronger and quicker the more he did it. The whip had slashed out at its unwilling victum before the pain that coursed through him was unbareable. A couple of hours more and Erik had already passed out due to the combination of lack of air and the agonyising pain that shot right through his body every time the tails contacted his skin. Once the doctor knew he had enough, he couldn't resist the temptation and unstrapped Erik from the plastic table, pushing his body, letting it drop to the floor. His body dropped hard tot he hard and at some point broken bone filled the room making one employee squirm at the sounds, hearing the sudden gasps of Erik's awakening bakc to consciousness.

"Dr, what are you doing?" asked a young man as they watched the older male take Erik's body dragging it across the floor and stopping in the middle for all of them too see.

"Now listen carefully, this is how you get rid of a body" he said before in all their surprise he pulled out a gun from his pocket. Erik saw what it was and raised his hand but was back handed but the gun itself. Plastic. He should have know when he couldn't resgister any form of metal in the room.

"I've seen what you can do Lehnserr, I have learnt from other's mistakes now its your turn to pay for yours" he said out loud, taking note on the heated more on his cheek. One of the guards realising the potential risk stepped in, taking a risk of his own knowing the consequences of helping the prisoner especially someone like Magneto.

"Haven't you gone too far? Isn't this enough? There's no need to kill him" he stated, his eyes darting to his fellow comrades, his friends to stop this madness.

"It seems that your friends aren't with you Stanley" the Dr said before turning back to Erik, the blood, both fresh and dry still caked his face and aching body. He stepped forward and pressed the tip of the gun he had just cocked back to his forehead.

"Now before I count from three is there any last words before your life ends right here, before you die for the mistakes and the pain you caused to so many humans?" the Dr said pressing the gun harder on to his forehead.

Erik at first said nothing, until he felt something in his pocket.

"Don' look let, just promise me you'll remember me, that you'll always love me" Charles' words filled his head knowing the promise he made as he felt the hard sharp in his pocket and knowing what it was. He gripped it tightly knowing his heart belonged to Charles. His heart beats for Charles. As the Dr got to two, Erik said his final words.

"Tell Charles Xavier Iove him. Tell him everything is going to be okay, that the world can now be a better place" he said, tears falling from his swollen eyes as the Dr got to one pulling the trigger with it. There lied Erik, his eyes open and a chess piece, the king, in his hand.

"Who is this Xavier? What was he talking about?" the older man said, wiping the blood from the gun, his face unsurprised by the sudden realisation coming from the silent room, some with tears running from their eyes, others shocked and fearing what would Charles do. While others stayed silent, their minds wondering in lost thoughts of waht has he done. Stanley stepped forward, knelt beside Erik's head body and held him close. He knew Charles well. They first met at an Mutant Eithics lecture at The Pentagon. He was a friend and knows about him and Erik, their relationship together and so did the others.

"What are you doing?" said the Dr noticing Erik on Stanley's lap.

"You killed him, now you must face the Department of Mutant Humanitarian Rights for your actions" he said not taking his eyes off Erik. Soon, others knelt down beside him and closed their eyes knowing their thoughts would inform Charles. To let him know but it was best to do it in person.

The events of this tragedy was investigated by the Department of Mutant Humanitarian Rights and found the Dr was part of the Anti-Mutant Association, a party of people who sends men to kill mutants, it seems one breached The Pentagon as a doctor and had successfully killed Magneto. Some had cheered for his death, congratulationing the killer for his success but some were outraged and rioted the streets. While others stayed silent, as Charles did as he buried his boyfriend knowing the last thing he said was he promised. Promised to love him forever. It seems that fate was cruel that day. Too cruel for Charles to handle. He watched as Hank placed the last remaining dirt on the casket while he held tightly to his own King chess piece, knowing Erik was buried with his, the last thing that would be a part of Charles that he would have that will still be with him.

#Whumptober2020 #no. 3 #Held at gun point #Cherik #tw: gun mention #tw: gun violence #tw: torture #tw: murder #tw: mentions of death #tw: strangling #tw: choking #tw: whipping #Blood warning #tw: wounds #major character death #tw: death #tw: broken bones #content warning

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andrewmoocow · 4 years

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Steven Universe: The Fantastic Mutants chapter 4: The Deadpool and Peridot Show (originally posted on August 29, 2020)

AN: Welcome back to The Fantastic Mutants everyone. This is a very special chapter because here I have a co-writer, whether I like it or not.

Surprise everyone, it's me Deadpool! Since this kid refuses to get his writing done quickly, I've taken it upon myself to "help" him out since no one can understand me better than me. Now then, back to my cohost here.

Yes, Deadpool of all people has decided to help me. Though I'd rather do all of this myself without any distractions.

Kinda like how this author's note is distracting us from the actual main event! Now let's just get this rolling already!

We begin on a talk show set in a blank white space, inhabited solely by a drop-dead handsome mercenary dressed in a beautiful shade of red with hints of black that was currently tearing it apart for no good reason. You know him, you love him, it's the sexiest anti-hero to have ever graced this dying industry, Deadpool.

"Thank you, thank you all!" yours truly bowed for an unseen audience as he finished tearing the set apart. "Now if all y'all have been lying under a rock since like, I don't know, '91, I am known as Wade Winston Wilson. I was created by Rob Liefeld and Fabian Niecieza for The New Mutants #98 in February 199-"

"Wade, I believe everyone knows who you are already." My white thinky-box, represented by a bold underline, cut me off. "You're already an Internet legend and of course, there's Ryan Reynolds."

"Can we just can the prologue already?" my yellow thinky-box, also represented by underlining but this time it was in italics. "There's gotta be people coming here solely for us who don't know what's going on."

"Okay wiseguys, you asked for it." the man who looked like a cross between Ryan Reynolds and a Shar-Pei underneath that creepily adorable mask replied. "So in case you guys are just joining us, this is a crossover with the modern classic with some of the most psycho fans in the Internet, Steven Universe." I explained. "Last chapter, our smol sunshine baby of a protagonist was kidnapped by the Master of Magnetism Magneto for some most likely evil science experiment by our favorite evil dictator with a superiority complex to compliment his tiny dick, Doctor Doom. In response, the Crystal Gems have decided that they need more hands on deck, and more characters than this story already needs."

"What does he want this to be, the DC Extended Universe?"

"I'd watch that mouth if I were you buddy." I called the dialogue box out. "Our author here has had experiences with those fans. If that Englishman can think he's free to call MCU fans Marvel Zombies, than he's free to have his own opinion. But someone that fanatical deserves to be called something similar, like a DCheep! Get it, because he's a sheep!"

"Can we please move on? This recap has already taken up two pages and I got real-life things to do." The author begged Wade.

"Okay, okay! Let's get this started already, keep your pants on!" the masked macho-man declared, marching off stage in an alluring fashion. "Cue scenery!"

Not too far from Westchester County, there was a shitty apartment where dwelled the hideously scarred human mutate, Wade Wilson. He was out like a light after the badass battle to the death he totally had last night, no joke. Not even a chimichanga could wake him up, and he didn't care that much for them. Yeah, no joke.

"Come on you sack 'a crap, wake up!" his blind, black, elderly roommate Blind Al groaned while fishing Wade out of bed with a snow shovel. "How much off-screen carnage puts you this much to sleep?"

"Enough for readers to get a glimpse of what I do in my spare time." Deadpool declared as he woke up, looking like he had a fantastic night's sleep. "Morning Al, off to do a crossover, see ya later!" he hurriedly greeted the old woman before leaving his room.

"Should I tell him he's not wearing pants?" Al muttered to herself. "Naw, he'll figure it out himself."

And figure it out he did. Immediately after that scene, Deadpool was wandering around the street fully clothed and ready to get this chapter over with.

"So, can we have our co-stars please show themselves?"

The author complied by dropping Connie, Peridot, Lapis Lazuli, Bismuth and Nephrite into the scene. "Wait, how did we get here?" Peridot wondered aloud. "And who are you?"

"Ooh, I get to hang with everyone's favorite character!" Deadpool cheered. "I've been writing up jokes about the fans I've been wanting to say for quite a while." He added to the readers while searching his hammerspace for cue cards. "Let me see, Molotov cocktail, big-ass cartoon bomb, reminder to sue Marvel & Capcom for leaving me out of Infinite, God knows how many machine guns."

"Uh, while you're looking for whatever it is you want, let me introduce myself." Connie introduced herself. "My name is Connie, pleased to meet you."

"Hey, can you put your cue-card search on hold and say hi to the kid?"

"Ah, here they are!" Deadpool declared as he fished a series of flashcards from seemingly his butt. "Been wanting to do this for ages." He said before clearing his throat, and he began to read off of them.

"Here are some complaints I have heard about Steven Universe. Complaint #1: literally no one can stay on-model because storyboarding is the devil. Complaint #2: Rebecca Sugar is a total butchphobic abuse supporter because she treats Jasper like crap and lets Lapis off the hook despite the fact that she's even worse."

"Please note that these are clearly not the opinions of the author. He's just been around Tumblr a lot and knows just how these so-called 'fans' think."

"Who said that?" Bismuth wondered aloud. "Oh hey, Bismuth!" Wade exclaimed as he just took notice of her. "That reminds me, Complaint #3: Making Bismuth an antagonist in any way, shape or form is racist because all minorities are pretty little angels than must be defended at all costs despite the facts that we're all human beings who have the potential to be complete balls to the wall sociopathic!"

"Okay, now you're just being used as a mouthpiece for the author. Hey buddy, can you stop him by introducing your version of the X-Force?!"

As a way to shut him up, the writer dropped the X-Force into the current scene on top of Deadpool. Their members, aside from Wilson, consisted of big names like Cable, Domino, Bob & Psylocke, to those who are only familiar to movie-watchers like Copycat, Negasonic Teenage Warhead, Yukio, Bedlam & Shatterstar, and even Outlaw & Fantomex!

"How did we get here?" Cable asked the other black-ops mutants as he got up. "Oh hey Natey, knew you'd come along sooner or later!" Wade greeted his cybernetic compadre. "I was just getting myself introduced to these characters that we'll be paired up with for this crossover."

"Hi, I'm Bob, Wade's best friend!" the HYDRA agent Bob cheerfully introduced himself. "Name's Domino." Neena Thurman responded.

"A pleasure to meet you, dearest jeune fille bleue." Fantomex greeted Lapis in a gentlemanly fashion. "You may call me Fantomex. "

"Charmed." Lapis replied.

"Wow, everyone wants Lapis! First Fandral, and now Fanto."

"Can you blame her? She's the writer's fave and top SU waifu! Favoritism much?"

"Name's Negasonic Teenage Warhead." Ellie Phimster introduced herself. "This here is Yukio." She added gesturing to a Japanese girl with pink hair and a big smile. "Hi there!"

"I'm Wade's girlfriend Vanessa, though a lot of people call me Copycat since that's my power." Vanessa stated. "Yeah, totally original."

"Call me Bedlam." Bedlam stated. "And this here is Shatterstar. Unlike the rest of us, he's an alien from the Mojoverse."

"And finally, these are Outlaw and Psylocke." Shatterstar gestured to the cowgirl and the ninja in the one piece. "Nice to meet ya." Inez Temple greeted. "Indeed." Betsy Braddock added.

"So, what brings you to my neck of the woods?" Deadpool asked Connie. "Don't give too much away, cause I already got a basic knowledge of what happened last chapter."

"Chapter?" Connie tilted her head in confusion. "Steven was kidnapped only an hour ago! What do you think this is, some kind of story?"

"You'd be surprised Girl-Who-Wasn't-Actually-Dressed-As-Gohan-In-That-One-Episode." The Merc with a Mouth grinned underneath his mask. Before anyone could move on however, a stereotypical overweight nerd who looks like he doesn't get out much wheeled in on an automated scooter with a plate of brownies in front of him. "And you are?"

"I am simply an SU Critical that wants to congratulate you for making my voice heard." The nerd congratulated Deadpool. "As a way of saying thanks, have some brownies."

"I get it! Deadpool won some brownie points!"

"Don't explain the joke dumbass. The punchline should be coming up now."

As Wade snacked on the brownies, he came to realize something was wrong with them. "Hey wait a second. Yo, stereotype! Why do these brownies taste like literal dogshit?!"

"That's my secret ingredient!" the nerd revealed, much to Wade's disgust and he angrily tossed the brownies on the ground. "It's to symbolize how I believe Steven Universe has gone bad ever since the barn arc ended since absolutely nothing can compare to the amazing character development Peridot got!"

"Oh, it's so nice to see someone notice my splendidness!" Peridot blushed as she felt humbled by the nerd. "Of course, then they had to devolve her into a mindless comic relief who only-"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING MINDLESS COMIC RELIEF YOU CLOD?!" the small Gem shrieked furiously before she pounced on the basement dweller and began choking him. "I'll teach you to talk back to me immediately after giving my praises you hypocrite!"

As Peridot continued assaulting the nerd, everyone else watched in either shock, bemusement or in Deadpool's case, pride. "I think I want to be her new bestest friend already."

"But I thought we were friends!" Bob weeped sadly while Bedlam gave him a comforting pat on the head.

"And now it's time for a cutaway gag!"

"Cutaway gags? You gotta be kidding me, we're not Family Guy!"

"Just let the writer do his thing man, it's his imagination!"

"Come on Willy, I know you can do it!" a child version of Deadpool called to a whale in a scene that is clearly a reference to a certain all-time classic "Boy and his non-human friend" story. However just as Willy finally leaped over the rock Wade was standing on, he was immediately harpooned in midair and dragged towards a pirate ship manned by Captain Ahab. "Hey, wrong whale story Habbo Hotel!"

"After so many years of searching, that accursed whale is now mine to profit off!" Ahab and his crew celebrated their capture. "I'm talking sequels and an animated series to start, but the sky's the limit!"

"This ain't the last you'll see of me Old Thunder!" Wade cursed the sea captain as he made off with his prize. "I'll bring that whale home, just you wait!"

"Okay, that's a pretty unique idea for a gag. But seriously, back to the show."

"So, we're here because Magneto has kidnapped Steven with a bunch of Sentinels." Connie recapped to Deadpool while they were out and about in the city. "Now that you know what we're doing, can you tell us what you do?"

"I'm glad you asked Connie." Deadpool declared. "Allow me to explain the only way you Steven Universe characters probably know how. IN SONG!"

"Wait, a musical number, in a fanfiction?! Seriously?!"

"Hey shut it, this is gonna be good!"

"Lights please." Wade announced, shutting off the lights with a snap of his fingers, and turning them back on with another snap. He was now dressed as an Elvis impersonator with Cable, Domino, Bob and Copycat as his band. "What song do you plan on playing?" Vanessa asked her boyfriend.

"Just watch and listen." Wade responded, and began playing a parody of a classic movie song. "Here I go!" he started singing while Cable provided backup on the drums. "Woo! Ah-ha, ah-ha, let me show you what I work with!"

"Well Gambit was in league with a bunch of thieves, Cyclops has almost two thousand tales!" For his first act of insanity, the Regenerating Degenerate made about fifty longboxes filled with comics appear for Peridot & Lapis to rifle through. As soon as they discovered one with Wade fighting a vampire bat creature on the cover titled "Deadpool: The Gauntlet," the Deadpool on the cover continued the song.

"Well my friends, you're in luck cause up your sleeves, you got a kind of guy that never fails!" After Deadpool emerged from the issue Peridot was holding, he shot down various villains emerging from the other comics while singing.

"You got a real badass in your corner now, a real Wolverine type in your camp!" he then demonstrated by transforming his face into that of Logan's and then back again before letting bullets rain from above. "He can shoot, kablam! Bullets galore, all you gotta do is say my name!" Wade crooned. "And I'll say: 'Miss Peridot and Lapis Lazuli, what will your pleasure be?'"

As he sat the Gems down on a beach blanket, Deadpool then assumed pirate attire and set a heavy treasure chest on the ground. "Just give me a guy and I'll shoot him down, you ain't had a mercenary like me!"

Peridot began to excitedly open the chest while Lapis rolled her eyes. "Life's like a treasure chest," Wade's disembodied voice continued. When the treasure box was opened, the mercenary exploded out of it and made gold fly everywhere. "AND I'M GONNA BE YOUR KEY!"

Unlike her smaller partner, Lapis was still not amused. "C'mon, whisper to me what you want," Wade kept crooning, followed by splitting himself into four smaller Deadpools. "You ain't had a mercenary like me!"

"Contractors pride ourselves on service." One of the mini-Wades stated, and then they merged into the prime Wilson while spawning a lavish couch for his two guests. "You girls the hoss, the queens, the Shah! No matter what you wish, I'll be your bitch! How 'bout a few chimichangas?"

"Have some of Sample A, try all of Sample B!" Following the chimichanga rain, Peridot and Lapis were handed free samples at a supermarket before they found themselves on a velvet pillow held by Wade. "Anytime, any day, I'll help you babes. You ain't had a mercenary like me!"

A brief dance number then ensued between Deadpool and his hands. His left hand vocalized and the degenerate replied with an "Oh my!" When the right hand started singing, it was responded with "No no!" Both hands harmonized and they got a "Ha ha ha!" They sandwiched Deadpool between them as he peaced out with a "Zip-a-dee doo-dah!"

When Deadpool returned, he pointed straight at Peridot. "Give me a good badda-yadda-yadda!"

"Badda-yadda-yadda!" Peridot excitedly repeated. "Good, scotty-wop!" Wade then pointed to Lapis. Her reply was more unsure. "Uh, scotty-wop?"

"Everybody now!" Deadpool compelled the readers. "Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!"

"Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!" the readers answered excitedly.

"Yeah, y'all got it!" Wade congratulated before proceeding to demonstrate his healing factor. "Can your friends do this?" he asked, casually dislocating his arms. "Can your friends do that?" he added, ripping out his spinal cord to bounce on it like a certain stuffed tiger. "Can your friends pull this?" With that, Wade tore his skeleton out of his body and started dancing the Charleston with it. "Out a little hat?!"

Suddenly, Wade's skeleton started filling itself with dynamite sticks on the verge of exploding. "CAN YOUR FRIENDS GO-" The human mutate was interrupted as the TNT exploded, and the clouds gave way to him beatboxing while doing a silly dance.

"Call me the Merc with a Mouth, I am always there. North, West, East and South! So don't sit there slackjawed, all buggy-eyed! I'm here to answer all ya evening prayers!" he continued. "You got me bona-fide certified! A hired gun for your charge affair!"

"I got a powerful urge to help you out! So who's gonna die? I really need to know!" Deadpool said as the song began to reach its climax while pulling a long strip of paper from Peridot's mouth and began rubbing his bottom with it. "You got a list that's three miles long no doubt. So all you gotta do is pay-wayho!"

For the final setpiece, Peridot and Lapis now stood atop a mountain of dead Marvel characters that are so obscure, not even the most hardcore fans knew a thing about them. "Miss Peridot and Lapis Lazuli, what will your pleasure be?" Wade asked tunefully. Peridot then picked up one body, and its head suddenly turned into Deadpool's. "Anytime anyplace, I'll help you babes."

A few bodies rose from the dead, only for Deadpool to shoot them all down. "You ain't had a mercenary, never had a mercenary." He concluded. "You ain't had a mercenary, never had a mercenary."

Bullets once again began raining, along with all sorts of violent weapons as the song finally ended. "YOU AIN'T, HAD A, MERCE-NARY LIIIII-IIIIIKE MEEEEE!"

With the X-Force performing a kickline to finish things off, Deadpool pulled on a string dangling from above. "You ain't had a mercenary like me!" A flickering neon applause sign dropped down, capping off the rather pointless number.

"Well, that was a waste of time that'll never be spoken of again."

"Sincerest apologies to Alan Menken, Howard Ashman and especially Robin Williams. He would've been 69 this year. NICE!"

"Okay you generic-looking monster, time to discover who you truly are!" Connie declared to a captured Sasquatch while she, Peridot, Deadpool, Lapis and Cable were dressed as a certain band of meddling kids and their voracious canine pal. Connie ripped off the Sasquatch's head to reveal that it was a mask worn by an evil parrot with a scar across his face.

"Zoinks! Like, it's a parrot!" Deadpool declared in a beatnik voice. "Wait, a parrot? Is that all?"

"Far from it mein friends!" the parrot answered in a German accent. Suddenly, large robots kicked the walls around them down. "Behold, my Nazi robots!"

"N-Nazi robots?" Lapis stuttered. "Jeepers, this is just getting too weird."

Deadpool then glanced expectantly at Cable, who groaned while pushing up his glasses. "C'mon Cabey, say the line!" he exhorted the cyborg. With a heavy groan, Cable quietly said "Jinkies, run."

"He's right, let's split up gang!" Connie commanded, and the crew were off to the races. After passing by the same flowerpot approximately five times because there wasn't that much in the budget, the five came across a hallway littered with doors.

When Deadpool and Peridot burst into one door, they came out of another not too faraway, same with the others. However at the end of a door, they came across a blue digital ghost with yellow eyes & teeth and a grainy laugh.

"Ruh roh, rit's Rames Rarles the Rindly Rohnny!" Peridot exclaimed, making every word she spoke begin with R before she coughed. "How does anyone speak like this?" she asked Wade. "Because speech impediments are funny!" the mercenary replied. "Now let's move!"

"Seriously, why can't I be Fred?!" Cable complained while emerging from another door with Deadpool by his side instead of Lapis. "Connie gets the cool ascot, and all I'm left with is this bulky sweater and a short skirt!"

"Well for one, that skirt actually looks pretty cute on you." Wade answered with a stupidly cheeky grin on his face. Before anyone else could charge through more doors, zombie cats and dinosaurs that could move without thinking came charging in. "Wow, Scooby-Doo became a lot weirder than when I was a youngin."

Returning to the real world, the Crystal Temps and the X-Force have just plowed through an entire armed squadron inhabiting a conveniently abandoned office building and now had their leader tied up in a chair. "We ain't gonna let all those hallway fights amount to nothing!" Wade declared holding the squadron leader at gunpoint. "We've tried every torture technique in the book: eating your own food, threatening your family, doing a silly dance to some awesome music and yet still you won't talk!" he exclaimed. "So let me ask this again! What does the guy who gave Magneto & Doctor Doom those Sentinels look like?"

"What?" the gunman asked nervously, causing Wade to smash another wall. "WHAT COUNTRY ARE YOU FROM?!" the mercenary shrieked. "What?" the captive continued squeaking. "WHAT AIN'T NO COUNTRY I EVER HEARD OF!" Deadpool yelled. "THEY SPEAK ENGLISH IN WHAT?!"

"What?" the man said a third time. "ENGLISH MOTHER-" Deadpool began, but then he noticed the T-rating and groaned. "ENGLISH YOU BASTARD, DO YOU SPEAK IT?!" he reiterated. "YES!" the gunman finally said something other than what. "THEN YOU MUST KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!" Deadpool kept yelling. "WHAT DOES YOUR MASTER LOOK LIKE?!"

"We could just beat the info outta him and be done with it." Bedlam advised. "No need for all this Pulp Fiction parody crap."

"Was I talking to you?" Wade asked his teammate tersely before going back to his captive. "Now where was I? Oh yeah! Does he look like a bitch?"

"Now you're just skipping lines!" the gunman squealed in defiance. "What else do you wanna do with me?!"

"Okay, I got another question for you." Wade stated. "Have you had your prostate exam lately?"

"What?" the gunman muttered, fearing what could come next. "In fact, I got just the girl to help me." Wade declared. "Hey Connie, your MILF of a mom is a doctor right? Surely you must know what I'm talking about!"

"Yeah, pretty much!" Connie answered. "Here, lend me your sword. We might need to operate." Deadpool said as he menacingly snapped on a pair of rubber gloves. "Hey author, why don't we cut to another scene before this gets too violent?"

"Now then, what are we working with he-There it is!"

"AUGH!"

Elsewhere, a stereotypical shadowy figure watched from a large video screen as the X-Force tore through his mercenaries. "That masked maniac is onto us!" he growled quietly while pounding his fist on an armrest and turned his chair to face Ruckus, Gorgeous George, Hairbag, Ramrod & Slab, the Nasty Boyz. "You five track him & those rainbow women down and kill them all!"

"Yes sir." The Nasty Boyz complied and set off for the Merc with a Mouth. "Now where do you suppose the merc could be now?" Hairbag asked his fellow Boyz. "My best guess, he's probably at that Hellhouse run by Patch." the Southern-accented Slab theorized. "Hopefully they have room for his head as a trophy."

"Well here we are at Saint Margaret's School for Wayward Children." Deadpool decreed as he suddenly parked a limo that he totally always had in front of the mercenary dispatch center he loved frequenting. "I suggest you try not to look at some of its inhabitants funny, some of them can get a little ballistic."

Entering the bar, the two teams had all eyes on them by all the other mercs at the establishment. "Uh, hello there." Connie nervously greeted one of them. "I don't think you're old enough to be here little girl." The mercenary replied ominously. "Don't worry Jessica, they're with me." Deadpool told the larger man. "So, where's Weasel?"

"Right here old buddy!" the bespectacled bartender called for Wade. "Hey, Weasel!" Wade exclaimed to his old friend while sitting down at the bar and exchanging a fistbump. "I see you're doing well Poolboy." Weasel said to his friend. "And who's the green midget with you?"

"This is Peridot, a member of the Crystal Gems." Shatterstar introduced Peridot. "Oh, you mean those rock ladies that creamed those Chitauri only to get creamed by Thanos?" Weasel asked, making Peridot pretty mad. "Hey, we creamed Thanos right back!"

"We're looking for information sir." Connie said to Weasel. "A friend of mine has been captured by Magneto & Doctor Doom using those Sentinel robots, and we want to know where they've come from."

"You want confidential info little girl?" the barkeep stated. "Go see Multiple Man over there at that poker table, he's usually the guy to talk to since he's a detective."

"Yet one mystery he can't solve is the mystery of why he can never get his own movie."

"ZING!"

At a nearby poker table, Jamie Madrox and some of his duplicates were playing cards with the albino mutant Caliban, and the four Jamies clearly had the upper hand. "All in!" one of the clones declared shoving his chips into the pot. "I know you are cheating Madrox." Caliban informed his opponent. "I mean, there are literally four of you!"

Just then, Deadpool abruptly shot one of the clones dead and sat down where he once was. "Deal me in." he simply declared as if nothing happened. "Caliban welcomes you Mr. Pool." Caliban nervously greeted the regenerating degenerate. "And who is your little friend?"

"You may call me Peridot, the suave, attractive and positively adorable leader of the Crystal Gems!" Peridot introduced herself arrogantly. "So, you more members of the X-Men? Haven't seen you around the mansion."

"Actually, we're members of a different team of mutants." Madrox replied, while his surviving doubles sadly carried their dead comrade away. "There are actually quite a lot of them you see. X-Factor; the one we're a part of, X-Statix, Excalibur, Generation X, the Morlocks and most famously Alpha Flight."

"Half of them sound so late 20th to early 21st century." Peridot commented. "I mean, X-Statix? Talk about totally cool dudes!"

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "Is this Saint Margaret's? We'd like to have a word with the owner." A voice came from the other side, catching all the patrons and employees off-guard. All was quiet, but then the Nasty Boyz came crashing through the wall instead of the door. "LET'S GET NASTY!" they all cried out, springing into action.

"Alright, what the shit is going on here?!" Bob "Patch" Stirrat, the elderly owner of Saint Margaret's growled, emerging from another room while stroking his big bushy mustache. "Oh god, it's the Nasty Boyz."

"The Nasty Boyz?" Peridot and Lapis repeated in unison before they laughed at the evil mutant team's name. Suddenly, the wood tables of the bar came to life and changed their form thanks to Ramrod, who used them to restrain everyone aside from Deadpool. "Okay boys, frisk him."

On Ramrod's orders, Gorgeous George used his shapeshifting powers to grab Wade by the ankles and dangle him above the ground. "Let's see what he's got here." Ruckus muttered, fishing through the belongings dropped as Wade was shaken up and down. "Various pistols, swords, nunchucks, staves, forks, a bazooka."

"Most of those were from a Ninja Turtles convention I went to last year." Wade revealed. "Don't know where the bazooka came from."

"Rubber chicken, five month old bag of pizza pockets; that are still warm," Slab continued for his teammate. "Ryan Reynolds's phone number, large collection of nude selfies from Thumbelin-WHAT?!"

To Slab's absolute shock and fury, he found an overfilled file of lewd pictures taken by his sister Kristina Anderson with her phone number on it, along with a message saying "I bet you want more, my raging sex machine!" Crushing the file in his hand, Slab furiously glared at Deadpool. "Wilson, you son of a bitch!"

"Geez Chris, I thought you had a sense of humor." Wade grinned cheekily. "After all, SHE'S YOUR SISTER!" Then like Thor returning Mjolnir to his hand, the mercenary wiggled his fingers to call one of his katana blades back and free himself from Gorgeous George before rescuing his friends. "SSSSSSmokin'!" he hissed before spin-dashing out of the bar.

"After that degenerate!" Hairbag exclaimed while Slab frothed in wordless rage and the Boyz gave chase, leaving the bar in tatters. "Hey, which of you assholes is gonna clean this up?!" Patch exclaimed, but then he answered his own question by handing Weasel a broom.

"Everyone, to the Deadpoolmobile!" Deadpool exclaimed as the X-Force and Crystal Temps piled into the limousine from earlier. "Where did you ever get this car anyways?" Bismuth asked him, and he replied. "Don't think about it!"

Far across the city, Robert Kelly was left facepalming and a colleague of his scratching his head when they discovered that one of Kelly's limos was missing, its place taken by a graffiti message saying "I O U".

"I hate that Deadpool." Senator Kelly groaned.

"You get back here this instant you red-masked c-" Slab called for Deadpool as the Nasty Boyz chased them in a stolen taxi, but his cursing was cut off by Deadpool popping out the sunroof of the limousine to open fire on them.

"Wait, if Deadpool is up there, then who is driving?" Connie asked the group, and that's when Yukio made a shocking realization. "Oh my god, Demon Bear is driving!" she exclaimed pointing to a demonic bear that was taking the wheel. "How can that be?!"

"That's right folks, Lawrence Abrams is here to report that the insanely infamous insane mercenary Deadpool has started an intense car chase where he's hijacked a limo belonging to Senator Robert Kelly and is being chased by a group of other mutants called the Nasty Boyz." Lawrence Abrams said on the television at the Baxter Building, where Garnet, Pearl, Colossus and Wolverine had now caught wind of the event. "And there's also some kinda bear driving the limo for some reason. Why's there a bear?! Who gives a damn! And now onto Sally Floyd with politics!"

"Deadpool." Colossus glowered in embarrassment. "Come my friends, we must go and handle this crisis ourselves." He declared while preparing to leave the building. "But you let Connie go on that mission for her optimism." Pearl stated to the metal mutant while setting Reed and Sue's young son Franklin Richards on the floor.

"We know Pearl, but that maniac is a whole 'nother level of unpredictable." Wolverine grumbled. "And there's a high chance Connie's life is at risk here! Right Garnet?"

"Logan is correct. I can see multiple paths where things go horribly wrong." Garnet agreed with Logan. "Oh, you're leaving already?" Franklin's older sister Valeria asked them. "Mom and Dad were just about to introduce you to H.E.R.B.I.E."

"It's alright Valeria, they still have friends to help." Susan assured her daughter. "Go on Gems, we'll catch up with you back at the mansion."

"It's been a pleasure to be shown around the Baxter Building and meeting the kids Sue." Pearl said gratefully and shook the Invisible Woman's hand. "I especially like how Franklin reminds me of Steven."

"Bye Ms. Pearl!" Franklin said goodbye by hugging the tall Gem's leg. "Oh, goodbye to you too Frank." Pearl replied. "Hey, what about me?!" the Four's AI H.E.R.B.I.E exclaimed irritably. "Don't I get anything to say?!"

"Oy Cain, you gotta check this out!" Black Tom called to Juggernaut while he was watching TV. The Brotherhood of Mutants had stopped to refuel their ship and Black Tom had run off on his own when he discovered a TV shop playing the same news report of Deadpool's car chase. "What say we give Deadpool an old one-two before Mags finishes up?"

"You son of a bitch, I'm in!" Juggernaut exclaimed eagerly, giving his teammate a fist-bump that knocked Tom to the ground. "You okay there?"

"We have your limousine surrounded! Come out of the vehicle with your hands in the air!" a police officer barked into a bullhorn as they had Deadpool and pals backed into a corner. "I would make a police brutality joke, but even I know that would be too soon." Wade said to the readers as he screeched the limo to a stop, making donuts on the street and damaging numerous police cars in the process.

"Okay, now you're just either showing off or defying us." The cop with the megaphone japed. Just then, a mighty thud briefly shook the ground. And another. And another. And another. And-

"Quit stalling writer, we know who it is! It's the goddamn Juggernaut!" Deadpool interrupted the third-person omniscient narrator. "Literally everyone and their goddamn long lost relatives know who he is!" The mighty Juggernaut continued inching closer to the fanboying mercenary while the police scattered out of fear of him and Peridot poked her head out the sunroof to see what was up.

"Uh, Wade?" the petite Gem squeaked nervously. "You know who that is right?"

"Didn't I just say that it's ol' Juggernaut?!" Wade exclaimed to his new best friend. "Oh, the things I could say about how much of a badass he is! This guy has beaten the shit outta Cyttorak, the Thing, Colossus, Blob & Thor and even called banging She-Hulk a stalemate! Maybe, that last one was actually a cl-"

Before Deadpool could finish the sentence, Juggernaut grabbed him by the neck with just two fingers and brought him very close to his helmeted face. "Hello Wade." He beamed callously. "Hey Cainy, is that new toothpaste I smell?" Deadpool greeted him nervously. "What flavor is it this time, Feeling Bad About Your Shitty Mutant Powers So You Get New Ones from Cyttorak?"

"Goddamn he went there." Black Tom muttered, only to receive a glare from his partner.

"Deadpool!" Garnet called for the Merc with a Mouth as she, Pearl, Colossus and Wolverine entered the scene. "Oh, hey guys." Peridot nervously waved to her fellow Crystal Gems. "What brings you here?"

"We came here to take control of this current situation." Pearl explained. "No matter how much you want to swear and kill and all sorts of other crass activities, we still need your help in saving a friend of ours."

"I appreciate you want me to be more involved in this story Mordecai," Wade said to Pearl. "but can this wait a bit? I'm currently in the middle of worshipping the Juggernaut, bit-"

However within seconds, Deadpool was mashed into the ground by Juggernaut, leaving only a few scattered body parts lying in a puddle of blood. "Oh, so rude!" his disembodied head declared indignantly. "And to think we were buddies at one time Marky-Mark." He then turned to face the audience one last time before the degenerate would meet his not very possible untimely end. "But since I'm literally nothing but blood, my head, a few fingers, an upper arm and my dick right now, let's lighten the mood a little with some more gags, shall we?"

"As if we didn't waste enough time already."

"I love the smell of 372,844 pancakes in the morning." Deadpool declared as he flipped his last pancake and added it to the growing mountain of pancakes. "Smells like victory!"

"Why on Earth would you need this many pancakes?" Bismuth asked while Deadpool turned on the ceiling sprinklers to pour maple syrup all over each and every one of them at once. "Well, that's pretty clever I'll admit."

"Okay Peridot, ace this test and you're on the team!" Wade, now a coach for the girls' swim team comprised of Lapis, Bismuth, Domino, Warhead, Yukio, Outlaw, Copycat, Psylocke & Nephrite, announced to their soon to be newest member Peridot while she prepared to dive.

"This is it Peri, get this right and you'll make everyone proud!" Peridot muttered to herself while adjusting her cap and gazing at Lapis. As soon as Coach Wade blew the whistle, Peridot leaped into the water…and soon began struggling to keep herself afloat in a very exaggerated manner. "AAAAAGH, SOMEONE HELP! LIFEGUARD, COACH, SOS! THIS WAS A HORRIBLE IDEA!" she shrieked for help before the chlorinated water won out and she sank to the bottom.

"I'll save you!" Cable roared while assuming the role of a lifeguard, preparing to jump in the water after her when Wade stopped him. "No no, wait for the punchline."

When Peridot finally breached the surface, she dramatically gasped for air and then frantically paddled towards the end of the pool, grabbing the ledge with a serious expression on her face. "So, how do you like my swimming?" she asked, acting like nothing had happened. However, no one else was there to answer except for Deadpool. "Hey, where did everyone go?!"

"They jumped ship an hour ago because they were tired of waiting." Wade answered. "But you still get on the team cause you really made me laugh."

"Gotta say Lapis, we got quite a team here." Deadpool remarked proudly to his fellow baseball player Lapis. "Uh, yeah, they're great." Lapis nervously replied while failing to get the joke. "So, who's on first?"

"Yeah, and what's on second." Wade responded eagerly. "No, I want to know who's on first." Lapis continued asking. "Exactly! We already established that who's on first, what's on second and I don't know is third."

"Wait, do you not know their names or are those seriously what they're called?" the ocean Gem asked, causing great irritation for her team captain. "Dammit Lapis, you spoiled the punchline!" he reprimanded her. "In fact, this whole Abbott and Costello tribute was just an excuse to see you dress up as Bob again! I mean, can you blame me with those shorts?"

"Abbott and who now?" Lapis remarked with a raised eyebrow.

"You really need to get out more." Wade deadpanned, lowering his eyelids in response.

"Welcome back one and all to Celebrity Jeopardy." Pearl announced, now dressed as Alex Trebek. "Now before we proceed, I'd like to apologize on the behalf of our contestants to all viewers with rather unusual lifestyles. We here at the studio refuse to judge anyone based on how they live, and sincerely hope you accept our apologies. Now then, let's proceed with our contestants."

Deadpool was in the podium closest to Pearl, now dressed as Sean Connery. "Mr. Connery is in first place with only -1 dollar." Pearl began recapping for the viewers at home. "About as many points as your mother gave you!" Wade cackled.

"Classy." Pearl responded crossly before shining the spotlight on Lewis Black, aka Peridot. "Mr. Black now has a score of, shockingly enough, -6,000 dollars." She explained, prompting the small Gem turned abrasive comedian to climb up on top of her podium in the middle. "Is that enough to buy my own bus?"

"And finally, Josh Brolin, now having raised 35 dollars." Pearl concluded while Juggernaut assumed the role of the aforementioned actor many may know as a certain Mad Titan. "I don't feel so good." Cain muttered. "Damn, walked right into that one!"

"Very well then. With introductions out of the way, let's move onto the board." Pearl stated, moving her eyes from the podiums to the categories. "Tonight our categories are Annals of History, Potent Potables, What Bulls Hit, Jokes, Popular Foreign Television, Places with Names Ending in 'Nia' and Video Games." Deadpool then pressed his buzzer. "Mr. Connery, you have the board."

"I'll take What Bullshit for $500 Al." Wade announced with a stupid grin on his face, clearly misreading the category he had chosen. "And I can tell you plenty of things that are bullshit."

"No, it clearly says What Bulls-" Pearl began to correct the masked contestant before she came to a realization. "Whoa! Okay, walked right into that one. Anyways, the question is: "It is commonly believed bulls are enraged by this color". Mr. Connery?"

"I'll tell you something I've hit recently." Deadpool chortled. "Hit up a few bars over the past week while hanging with your mom. She and I had a wonderful time, if you get what I mean! Wink wink, nudge nudge."

"I don't even have a mother!" Pearl ranted hotly. "And can we please return to what was happening earlier?! These pop culture references are nothing but a waste of time!"

"Thank you!"

"Boldface, you ignorant slut."

"Oh no, Wade!" Peridot yelled for Deadpool as she dashed out the limo to check on the puddle of blood and body parts that was once her new friend. "Please speak to us you clod, you can't die like this!"

"That's because I can't!" Deadpool proudly declared and in a beautiful Disney-like spectacle, slowly reassembled himself until he was the full-bodied lovable manic once again. "Healing factor baby! Got it when some asshole tried to cure my cancer, along with looking like a walking tumor."

"Uh hey, remember us?" the Nasty Boyz cried out in unison, catching the merc's attention. "Oh right, you guys. Gotta wrap up the chapter somehow." As a result, Wade opened fire on the evil mutants, shooting them in the arms, kneecaps and especially their dicks. "Oh and Bismuth, Peridot? You guys got Black Tom & Juggies. I'll take Garnet and Pearl!"

"You got it, I guess." Bismuth complied before she and her little friend squared off with Cassidy & Cain, leaving Wade alone against the senior Crystal Gems.

"Hey, what about us?" Lapis asked the writer, who responded by typing, "Didn't think that far ahead. You guys can just do crowd control."

"Okay Q-Bert and Drinking Bird," Deadpool exclaimed. "you two may have thousands of years of battle experience on your show but in terms of franchise ages, I've been doing this for far longer! There was even a graphic novel trilogy where an actually insane version of me killed the rest of Marvel, tons of classic literature characters and even other versions of me!"

"Do you have any idea what he's saying anymore?" Pearl asked Garnet. "I'm not sure. I fear he may be too unpredictable for us to comprehend!" Garnet answered fearfully. "You can try if you want." Deadpool beckoned them with a silly dance. "But I can assure you that hilarity will ensue!"

Pearl leaped at the Merc with a Mouth, but she was quickly denied a hit when Wade did a pirouette and kicked her in the back, sending her flying into a lamppost. "See, what did I tells ya?!"

Garnet tried her hand at attacking by enlarging her gauntlets & launching them at her foe, but they proved to be useless against him. Deadpool then rapidly fired his gun at Garnet, but she blocked all the bullets with her gauntlets and then finally moved so fast, not even Deadpool could catch her and was punched in the face.

"Wow okay, you got the guts!" Wade yelled while readjusting his head from the hit. "Seems like I really am a bit outmatched by you Garnet. Or maybe a certain someone just wants to make things fair!"

"Come on you maniac, what else can you throw at us?!" Pearl asked pointing her spear. "Oh what else can I throw?" Deadpool replied, letting out a sinister giggle while wearing a pair of shiny glasses and clasping his fingers together. "Let me show you!"

Whipping out his katana blades, Deadpool laughed maniacally while using them to tear the background apart, leaving nothing but a blank white space behind. "WELCOME CRYSTAL GEMS TO MY TURF! I PRESENT TO YOU THE FOURTH WALL, WHERE LOGIC IS JUST AS ILLEGAL AS JAYWALKING!"

"This is starting to remind me of that Uncle person." Pearl muttered in awe. "I thought we promised to never speak of that man again." Garnet instructed the former servant. "Well if he wants to make jokes and talk to the audience, then so can we."

When the two Gems joined hand, there was a bright shimmer as the pair merged into the returning glamorous Sardonyx. "Ladies, gentlemen and everyone in-between, the Gem Hostess with the Mostest has finally returned!" the fusion of Garnet and Pearl announced. "And it seems we have a very special guest star today."

"Sardonyx, huh?" Deadpool muttered while scrolling through the Steven Universe wiki for statistics. "Oh I see, she's here because we can both break the fourth wall!"

"A worthy opponent for you I must say!" Sardonyx chortled before smashing Deadpool in with her hammer. "Of course you realize this means war!" Wade roared, proceeding to whip out numerous cartoon guns, launching them all at once. "RATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA-RATA!" he screamed while launching lead at his fusion foe, following up with a declaration of "Omae wa mou shindeiru."

"N-NANI?!" Sardonyx cried out in shock before she spontaneously combusted with a cry of "HIDEBU!" However, the explosion cleared up and she was perfectly fine. "Psyche! Hammer time!"

Before Sardonyx could hit Deadpool with the hammer again, he disappeared into a cartoon hole like it were a solid object and reappeared out another. "Ha, that Spot douche should take notes from-OH GOD!"

"Anyone up for Whack-A-Mole?!" Sardonyx exclaimed, proceeding to whack her opponent multiple times with her hammer before he vanished and popped out another hole. And another, and another, and another, and another, until the hiding began to tire him out. "Jesus she's good." Wade panted, and then he began to make a plan. "I swore that I would never use this the moment I stole it from those schmoes, but I'm left with no choice!"

Sticking a hand up his red-clad butt, Deadpool pulled it out while holding a small black jewel that seemed similar to the Infinity Stones. "Ough, I also swore to never use it again because looking for it is a literal pain in my ass!"

"That Infinity Stone isn't canon!" Sardonyx objected while sounding like a stereotypical nerd. "Oh it may not be canon my dear, but we're in the Fourth Wall where anything could happen." Deadpool explained deviously. "With this Continuity Stone, I could warp all reality to my whims! I could use it to go back in time and erase One More Day by preventing Civil War from happening, or maybe beat the shit outta that Judas Traveller prick and his butt-buddies! But what I plan on doing now is using this stone to erase you from this reality once and for all!"

"Oh no, I don't feel so good!" Sardonyx dramatically announced as she felt herself fading away. "I'm melting! Melting! Oh what a world, what a world!" With that, the fusion finally vanished and presumably Garnet & Pearl as well. As Deadpool let out a heavy sigh, he suddenly realized that the Continuity Stone was now missing. "What the?! Where did it go!?"

"Looking for something Ninja Spidey?" a familiar voice rang out. Sardonyx was now back to normal and smugly held the Stone in her hand, setting it down like a golfball and swinging it at Deadpool's eye, causing his body to explode.

"Can I at least get one F-bomb in Mr. Author Man? Please?" Wade begged the author by putting on his best puppy dog eyes until his disembodied head landed in one of Sardonyx's hands. "To be or not to be," she began quoting Shakespeare. "That is the question."

"I got a question." The mercenary's head growled angrily. "On a scale from one to ten, how much do you think I FUCKING hate you?"

"Watch the mouth sonny, children could be reading this!" Sardonyx chortled. "Now then, let's finish this chapter!"

One bypass of the chapter break later, Sardonyx and the defeated Deadpool were now out of the Fourth Wall and back in the real world where the Nasty Boyz, Juggernaut & Black Tom were now nowhere to be seen.

"Okay, I give up!" Deadpool complained while his body began to regenerate. "I'll go with your stupid plan! Didn't really need to treat me like how Pearl killed that one Irishman during the Easter Rising."

"It was an accident!" Pearl exclaimed as she and Garnet defused. "And how did you possibly know?"

"But before we move onto the next chapter, can we make a quick stop first?" Deadpool asked. "There's a joke I think needs resolving."

"You'll never take the whale from me Wilson!" Captain Ahab exclaimed as he engaged in a swordfight with the dread pirate Straw Hat Deadpool and his motley crew. "I'll surrender when I get eaten alive!"

"Funny you should mention that Habbo." First Mate Peridot sneered before she whistled loudly for Willy to breach the surface, breaking most of Ahab's ship and swallowing him whole. "I'll get you for this Wade!" Ahab shrieked vengefully. "You haven't seen the last of me!"

When Ahab was finally swallowed, Willy gave the pirates his farewells and dove back into the water, free again at last.

"What did parodying both Free Willy and Moby Dick have to do with anything?" Pearl asked Straw Hat Deadpool. "You know what? After what I've experienced, I don't think I want to know."

At long last, the chapter is done! Good thing too, because my partner has just started college as we write this and all that education is gonna cut into his freetime!

Yes indeed, the next chapter will take a bit longer to come out because of college. But I still get a few months off soon, so there you go.

Well, that should settle it. You get some free writing done and I won't take your ANDY ONLY stuff. Hasta luego amigo! And be sure to give my regards to your mom!

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sgtbbarnes107 · 3 years

Text

I Won’t Be Useless || James and Natalia

Who: Bucky Barnes and Natasha Romanoff ( @russian-latrodectus )

When: The day after the Radioactive event

What: Bucky visits Natasha in the hospital as she recovers from her injuries.

Bucky

Bucky had not entertained the idea even for a second that Natasha was going to die. Since it hadn’t been instant, then it wasn’t happening. He’d continued to hang onto that all the way back to Star City, through the debriefing, and through the hours sitting in a cold waiting room in an uncomfortable chair, looking at the motel art style painting of a cabin beside a stream. The fact that she needed to be there at all spoke to how serious it was. Her healing factor wasn’t quick enough or strong enough to patch things on its own, so of course it was severe. She just wouldn’t die. Plain and simple.

Of course he wasn’t the only one who’d waited, which meant when they finally got her in a room where visitors were allowed, the odds of Bucky being in there alone were slim. But sometimes, like right then, he was. Staff had sat down two trays of food from the cafeteria, one by him and one on the table at the end of her bed.

As she stirred, he lifted his chin. “я съел твой пудинг.”

Natasha

Natasha hurt. She’d been sleeping for a while, barely awake when she was and only enough to manage a few words here and there. She’d been hurt before, but Natasha had never drowned on her own blood. Now, when she stirred, her finger lifted toward James. “Bastard,” she answered softly, very slowly drawing in breath around the newly-stitched healing holes in her lungs.

“Is there water?”

Bucky

“Yeah, yeah, got it right here.” Bucky pushed himself out of his seat and took the little styrofoam cup and straw they’d left. The ice had probably melted by then, but he doubted that it’d matter. He held it out to her and, without giving much pause to think about it, took a step closer and held the straw up toward her mouth instead. “Better go slow.”

Natasha

She winced, pain wracking through her as she pushed to sit up. She was grateful for James as he held up the cup, and the water helped clear her head through the pain. Pulling back, she settled back against the pillows. “I feel... out of touch with everything.” Her breath did not come as easily as it had before she got impaled, but she certainly wasn’t choking anymore.

“Wanda? Is she...?” She couldn’t believe that Batman was dead.

Bucky

He held the cup until she seemed done with it, then put it aside so he could sit on the small space of bed next to her. There was a way about the hospital that made anyone in it look fragile. It didn’t matter who it was. Everyone got the same stuff looking down with too few ties, the same socks, the same drab colored blankets. Natasha looked smaller than he’d ever seen her, though of course he kept that to himself.

“The last I knew, Magneto had her with him. He left with her.” Bucky couldn’t do anything for her, at least not yet. She was his friend, but because he couldn’t begin to know how to help her he’d just focused on Natasha.

Natasha

She nodded. “Good. She...” Wanda needed help, but the team also needed precautions. It was an unfortunate truth with her. She was a strong teammate, but there was always going to be something soft there, waiting in the wings to destabilize her. Natasha wasn’t sure Wanda would ever be able to shake it.

“And... the others?” She was asking about everything else. Everything she could get out of him before she came around to the inevitable: ‘What about me?’ She was avoiding.

Bucky

“She needs help,” he finished for her, because it was the truth. Wanda had seemed to know it herself, though Bucky had not been able to grant that scene much of his attention. He hoped that she was able to find at least part of what she needed, but he just didn’t know yet.

“Bruce Wayne is...well, that was what it looked like.” There was no miraculous return. Bruce was gone. “There were other injuries. Flash was the only other one with anything severe.”

Natasha

“Is that what this is?” She asked. “Severe?” It felt strange to quantify it, and it forced her to examine her situation. “What are the doctor’s saying?” Would her lungs return to a hundred percent? Would she walk with a limp, suffer from nerve damage or migraines? How much were they putting Soviet science to the test here?

James would be honest with her. He would do her the courtesy of not sugarcoating.

Bucky

“You nearly died, Natalia.” Nearly, of course, was the key word. If they’d not acted when they did or had perhaps slipped along the way, it could have finished the job, even as he’d resolutely been denying the possibility. “You’ll recover, as far as I know, but you won’t be leaping out of bed tomorrow.”

Natasha

The Russian set her jaw, looking away. “But I will recover,” she insisted. What the hell was she going to do about her studio? And there was bound to be fallout from setting off a nuclear bomb in Star City. She needed to be on her feet and ready to go.

“I won’t be useless.”

Bucky

“What, you think I believe you’ll accept anything else?” He wouldn’t have either, but Natasha put even more stock in her usefulness than he did. “You didn’t die, so I’m banking on the idea that anything short of that means you’ll be okay eventually.” Short of regrowing entire limbs and organs, all of which Natasha had intact (if badly injured) he thought she could come back from. He had no idea if the doctors would tell her the same thing, though he doubted it, but that was likely to save their own asses (and money).

Natasha

She gave a firm nod. That was good. It made sense, she supposed, given what the pair of them had already survived. Still, having to resign herself to staying in this hospital room for however long. "I guess I'll have to figure out who will teach the girls while I'm down." She shook her head. "чертовы NOVA. How's... Is Steve holding up?"

Bucky

"Are substitute ballet teachers a thing? Maybe you should just close the studio for a little while until you're back on your feet." He didn't know if she'd actually do that. Natasha was attached to her students, and he figured that was doubly true after she'd been approached by one of them for help. He wouldn't tell her what to do.

Bucky combed his fingers back through his hair and shrugged. "Steve is...you know, Steve. He feels guilty about what happened. He couldn't have done a damn thing about it, but that usually doesn't matter."

Natasha

"Not really," she answered. "I could hire someone, I guess." She didn't want to. The studio was the only normal thing that Natasha did. And the girls needed her. She was still actively investigating the case that had come her way while doing her best to protect the two girls affected by it. And plus... It was a nice break from being Black Widow sometimes. Still, she knew it would be stupid to try to push through this injury just to teach ballet. It still put her off regardless.

At the answer about Steve, Natasha nodded. That sounded right. Steve would take it on himself even if he had nothing to do with it. "Idiot," she remarked affectionately.

Bucky

"Just take it easy for a little while and you'll be back in there. If you push it," which she was as prone to as the rest of them, "it'll just be longer." It was one of those situations where giving advice was much easier than taking that very same advice would have been, had their positions been reversed.

"That's Steve for you. He's worried about you, worried about the team, worried about," Bucky spread his hands, "everybody." And Bruce was dead. That meant he was carrying the League, too.

Natasha

She gave him a grumpy look but accepted his words. For now. Chances were high that she would just hear them all over again with Clint. Looking down at herself, she gave a huff that ached all through her body. "Guessing I won't be able to ... go home until I can breathe without wanting... to die, right?" She shook her head before leaning back against the pillows.

"What about you, James? How are you holding up?" She was sure that people had been asking after the obvious people: Bruce's family, Wanda, the injured. But what about the people that had been seemingly 'unscathed'?

Bucky

“That seems like it’d probably be one of the criteria for release, sure. They’ve probably got it on a chart or something. Takes a breath without cursing in Russian,” he smirked. But the fact that she could talk to him was an improvement, even if her words were a little halter and quiet. She was strong enough for that, so the rest would come back. He felt sure of it.

“I’m solid.” He hadn’t been close to Bruce, and while of course he felt empathy and sympathy for the team and his family, the loss wasn’t close. Natasha had lived and Wanda was...being attended to. The city was mostly okay, though again he’d mourn the people killed on the bridge with everyone else. He’d been left in a position where he could offer support, and he was both able and willing to keep doing that.

Natasha

“Good,” she answered before giving him the echoings of a wry grin. “Then I won’t feel bad about... asking you to sneak me in vodka... and pirozhki.” Alcohol was an astringent, so it wouldn’t worsen her healing. At least, to her fiercely Russian mind. The pirozhki was for comfort.

Bucky

That got a laugh out of him. "I wouldn't do that for just anybody. When you get completely trashed on vodka and morphine, you'd better not sell me out." He knew it normally took as much for her as it would for him, but her body was not at a hundred percent and he knew that one of the drips they had her on was pain medication. For it to be doing anything at all, it had to be strong.

Natasha

“But you’ll... do it for me, Yasha,” she said simply, reaching out to ghost her fingers along his hand. She couldn’t really register the texture difference from metal to flesh but she didn’t care. They were all James.

Bucky

"конечно," he agreed, glancing briefly down at her hand. It had not really sank in for him that she could have died until they'd already reached the hospital. He hadn't let it. There hadn't been time on the ground, when Clint had been frozen on the edge of panic and so many of the others were injured. He'd had to make decisions too quickly and focus purely on the actions that were needed. Only once she was back in surgery did it hit him, and it seemed so wicked and unfair to even have to consider. Steve would, of course, always be his best friend, but Natasha occupied a unique space in his life that nobody else could have ever filled. He hadn't wanted to consider that it might be empty.

Natasha

Natasha sat like that for a while, until the scheduled morphine dose courses through her. Her vision swam a little as she reached forward a little for his cheek. Natasha’s eyes drooped as her head lolled. “ты часть моей души,” she slurred at him. You are a part of my soul. And he was. So few people were allowed close enough, and then some were sewn into her heart and stitching her together. James was a huge part of her and she was glad to be alive for him, among others.

Bucky

Bucky was quiet for a beat or two after she spoke, though eventually he turned enough to press his lips against the top of her hair. “Rest, Natalia.” Either he’d still be there when she woke up again or not long after. Since getting to the hospital, she’d practically never been left alone. He could have the piroshki and vodka waiting on her.

#from russia with love; natasha #discord; i won't be useless

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beginagainunsolved · 4 years

Text

RYAN: This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved, we look into the mysterious circumstances behind the ratification of the Sokovia Accords, and the unsolved mystery of what really brought an end to one of the most prolific superhero teams of all time.

SHANE: The Power Pack broke up?

RYAN: Really? You think the Power Pack is the most --- You know what? I’m not doing this with you today. Let’s just get started.

RYAN, NARRATION: In early 2016, Steve Rogers took a team of newly minted Avengers on a covert mission in Lagos, Nigeria.

SHANE: What was the mission?

RYAN: I don’t know.

SHANE: What? What do you mean you don’t know?

RYAN: I mean SHIELD doesn’t really tell people about their missions ---

SHANE: Did you even ask?

RYAN: Did I even --- Who was I going to ask?

SHANE: The eyepatch guy.

RYAN: You want me to ask Nick Fury about SHIELD missions?

SHANE: Or the arrow guy. I feel like the arrow guy would tell you.

RYAN: He probably would.

RYAN, NARRATION: While the original scope of the mission remains unclear, what happened next has gone down in history as one of the biggest superhero failures of our lifetime. An enemy agent triggered a vest bomb and, in an attempt to save her team, Wanda Maximoff, better known as the Scarlet Witch, levitated the man up into the air. It is unclear if it was a miscalculation on Maximoff’s part or if she was just too slow, but the bomb detonated before the agent was above the skyline, taking out the entire seventh floor of a nearby hotel and killing at least eleven people.

SHANE: Well.

RYAN: Yeah, that’s not --- It wasn’t great, Shane.

SHANE: No, not the best. It’s --- I keep saying, this is why math is ---

RYAN: Do not talk about math right now. People have suffered enough without you talking about math.

SHANE: I’m just saying, she could’ve --- a little bit of math might have ---

RYAN: No.

RYAN, NARRATION: The devastation of the explosion in Lagos came not long after a recently famous failure in Sokovia ---

SHANE: Evil robots.

RYAN: (wheeze) Yeah --- Yeah, there were evil robots. They were (wheeze) They were objectively terrible, but ---

(both laugh)

SHANE: Ridiculous, in hindsight. Evil robots. That’s --- Will Smith has made that movie eighty-seven times, Ryan.

RYAN: And you saw every one of them in theaters.

SHANE: I did.

RYAN, NARRATION: The devastation of the explosion in Lagos came not long after a recently famous failure in Sokovia, leading the United Nations to believe superheroes, as a whole, required regulation.

RYAN: Now, I don’t know if you have ---

SHANE: They were right.

RYAN: What?

SHANE: No, I mean --- They make a good point, Ryan!

RYAN: Not what I would have expected you to come back with.

SHANE: If the unsolved mystery here is whether or not superheroes need regulation, can I just say ---

RYAN: That’s not ---

SHANE: --- I solved it! They do.

RYAN: (wheeze) You’re going to make Magneto kill us.

SHANE: Frankly, Ryan, I would love to be killed by Magneto.

RYAN: You know what? You’re right. I mean, it’s ---

BOTH: It’s the coolest way to die!

RYAN NARRATION: This is where things get a little dicey. Records show that, while several members of the Avengers team signed the proposed registration form — the Sokovia Accords — right away, others’ names never appeared on the list at all.

SHANE: Ole Mr. America was feeling ornery that day. I know this story.

RYAN: Please don’t call Captain America ‘Ole Mr. America.’ I don’t want to get sued.

SHANE: How’s he gonna sue us? He’s a war criminal! What, he’s gonna --- he’s gonna get a lawyer? Take us to court? Nah, Ryan. He’d be arrested on the spot. We’re invincible.

RYAN: I don’t think we’re invincible.

SHANE: (shouting) We’re invincible, baby!

RYAN, NARRATION: A few days after the Avengers were presented with the Accords, several heads of state gathered in Vienna to discuss them. It is at this point that a bomb went off, ripping through the UN building and killing several prominent heads of state, including then-king of Wakanda, T’Chaka.

SHANE: Aw.

RYAN: Yeah, it’s --- it’s not a happy story.

SHANE: Why don’t we ever cover happy stories, Ryan? I want an unsolved mystery where a kid just --- a kid gets handed candy, and he ---

RYAN: --- You want us to do an episode about a --- a mysterious, uh, candyman?

SHANE: … No. No, because there’s --- there’s no way that wouldn’t end up being something creepy, is there?

RYAN: No, there isn’t.

SHANE: This sucks, Ryan! This sucks.

RYAN, NARRATION: Officially, the bomb was attributed to the Winter Soldier, a famous assassin whose identity has never been released to the public. However, there is some doubt as to whether or not this mysterious figure was the real bomber.

SHANE: Stop it.

RYAN: Stop what?

SHANE: You’ve got your conspiracy hat on, Ryan, and it’s unsettling. You need better hats. It’s embarrassing.

RYAN: Fuck you!

RYAN, NARRATION: The rest of the story, as far as public record goes, is fuzzy. It appears that the Winter Soldier was taken into custody at one point, but he promptly escaped.

SHANE: (wheeze)

RYAN: (wheeze)

SHANE: ‘Oh we --- we got him! We did it boys! We --- fuck he’s gone.’

RYAN: It doesn’t really inspire confidence, does it?

SHANE: They arrested him for two minutes, Ryan.

RYAN: It was a nice two minutes!

SHANE: He spent a minute and thirty seconds of it escaping.

RYAN: But they had --- they had a solid grip on him for thirty seconds.

SHANE: That’s true!

RYAN, NARRATION: It’s at this point that the Avengers appeared to split off into two factions. One side, led by Tony Stark, favored the Accords. The other, led by Steve Rogers, opposed it.

RYAN: So, you would have been on Iron Man’s side.

SHANE: I’ll take it. He’s rich!

RYAN: I’m pretty sure he didn’t pay everyone who agreed with him.

SHANE: Maybe if he had, the Avengers wouldn’t have broken up!

RYAN: (wheeze) Maybe!

RYAN, NARRATION: The two leaders and their respective teams faced off in Germany, where an altercation lead to the entirety of Rogers’s team minus Rogers himself and the Winter Soldier, who appeared to join forces with Rogers at some point during the aftermath of his escape, to be arrested and confined in the Raft.

SHANE: (wheeze) That’s not --- That’s not great.

RYAN: (wheeze) Hey guys, join Team Captain America, where everyone but me and my new murder pal go to supermax prison!

SHANE: Another good reason to be Team Iron Man!

RYAN, NARRATION: There appears to have been a secondary confrontation between Iron Man and Captain America, but the details of this are hazy at best. All that can be said for certain is that, at some point, Tony Stark retrieved the shield his father made from Steve Rogers. Sometime later, several members of Captain America’s team escaped from the Raft, leaving only Ant-Man and Hawkeye, who chose to serve out their sentences to avoid going on the run.

SHANE: Well, that was nice of him!

RYAN: Legally, we can’t say Captain America broke his friends out of supermax prison.

SHANE: Who else would have done it, Ryan? A ghost?

RYAN: (wheeze) Maybe it was an ant!

SHANE: Bullshit! I refuse to believe Ant-Man was useful.

RYAN: (wheeze)

RYAN, NARRATION: So, who was responsible for the bomb in Vienna? What happened in Germany? And what happened after? Let’s get into the theories. The first theory is also the simplest: it states that everything happened exactly the way the papers tell it. The Winter Soldier, working for Hydra or another covert organization, bombed the summit in Vienna. This theory goes on to state that Captain America was secretly affiliated with Hydra as a sleeper agent, and betrayed his team in order to help the Winter Soldier escape.

SHANE: Okay, that’s…

RYAN: Bullshit, yeah.

SHANE: You expect me to think that the guy wearing America underpants is a Nazi? I just ---

RYAN: --- He punched Hitler!

SHANE: In the face!

RYAN: (wheeze)

SHANE: Nobody punches Hitler in the face for a cover story! They do it because he’s Hitler! And his face needs punching!

RYAN: Yeah, I don’t think we need to spend a lot of time on this one.

SHANE: Agreed.

RYAN, NARRATION: Our second theory is that the Winter Soldier was not the Vienna bomber, and that Captain America decided to help him fight for his freedom after becoming aware of his innocence. Meanwhile, Tony Stark remained convinced that he was right, leading to the altercation between the two.

SHANE: I’ve gotta say, the idea that two grown men couldn’t use their words is a lame theory, but ---

RYAN: --- It’s still better than ‘Captain America is a Nazi.’

SHANE: Yeah, it’s still better than that.

RYAN: I mean… I could buy this one.

SHANE: You think the guy, the, uh ---

RYAN: --- The Winter Soldier ---

SHANE: The Winter Soldier, yeah! His name is the Winter Soldier, and you think he was just, just a nice misunderstood guy?

RYAN: Maybe!

SHANE: No! Look at him! He’s shady!

RYAN: (wheeze) He does look pretty shady, yeah.

SHANE: A shady dude! There’s no way that guy hasn’t --- hasn’t done a little murder. I mean, he’s --- it’s the hair, Ryan.

RYAN: What if he wore it in a man bun?

SHANE: (wheeze) Like, uh, like the Hipster Soldier?

RYAN: Yeah! Yeah, what if he was the Hipster Soldier?

SHANE: I would believe the Hipster Soldier was innocent.

RYAN: Well, I think you’re going to really like my last theory here ---

SHANE: Oh, no. Ryan, I swear to god, if you say ---

RYAN, NARRATION: The final theory is that Captain America, along with his team, was replaced by a group of shape-shifting aliens who wanted to take out what was arguably the largest obstacle standing between them and the planet --- the Avengers.

RYAN: (wheeze)

SHANE: (deadpan) Frankly, Ryan, I’m just disappointed.

RYAN: We’ve been invaded by aliens! Multiple times!

SHANE: That doesn’t mean everyone you meet is an alien! I mean, we’ve had --- there were killer robots in Sokovia, but that doesn’t mean the toaster’s out to get you.

RYAN: I’m just saying, this is… It’s not the most far fetched ----

SHANE: --- No, it is the most far fetched theory you’ve thrown out today.

RYAN: But not ever?

SHANE: I can’t say it’s the most far fetched theory you’ve ever thrown out. Most of your theories are pretty dumb, Ryan.

RYAN: (wheeze) They’re all well-known, actively discussed theories!

SHANE: Well-known and actively discussed by who? Anyone wearing a tin foil hat is not your friend.

RYAN: You’re just mad you couldn’t find a tin foil hat big enough to fit your head.

SHANE: I would never be mad about that. If anything, I’m relieved. If there was one that would fit me, you would make me wear it. I’m surprised you aren’t wearing one.

RYAN: I’m not a tin foil guy. I’ve told you that before.

SHANE: Sure. Holy water, though…

RYAN: Holy water works!

SHANE: I’m going home.

RYAN, NARRATION: So, what exactly happened to make the Avengers go their separate ways? Was the Winter Soldier really responsible for the bombing in Vienna, or were there other, more sinister groups at play? And what happened in the time between the arrest of Captain America’s team and their escape from the Raft? With any real answers locked tightly in top-secret files, the true story of the fall of the Avengers will remain… unsolved.

WHAT UNSOLVED MYSTERY DO YOU WANT TO SEE NEXT?

#beginagainunsolved #episode: the accords #true crime

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chibisquirt · 4 years

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Mrs. Chibisquirt, if you're actually doing the ask meme "give me a character and I'll give you five scenarios for maximum emotional hurt" I'd like a Steve Roger's, please and thank you

I am doing the ask meme! It’s kind of a mental stretch for me because I’m not normally a hurt kinda person, but I’m on vacation and tumblr memes seem just about the right speed, so let’s do it!

5. Steve has to travel back to the past, and while there he has an opportunity to meet his dad. Now, Steve’s in disguise (or something) to avoid upsetting the timestream, and he has a mission he has to achieve, but while he’s there he meets Joseph Rogers and gets to know him a little bit. Probably Mr. Rogers introduces himself as “Joe” and it takes a bit for Steve to find out his last name and put everything together.

Joe and Steve talk a bit, before Joe says something about “I just got word, I’m gonna have a baby waitin’ for me when I get back! I can’t wait to meet him–!” and Steve is all set to tell him and then–

War. Shit happens. This is why you shouldn’t have personal discussions on a battlefield, Steven.

By the time Steve gets to his side, Joe’s already gone. He never knew.

4. Steve has lost everyone he ever knew in the past, except for one person. Whether it’s a vampire, or Logan, or just someone who was really young then and really old now, they’re the only one he has left of his past, the only person he can talk to about the way things were and have them understand. He’s busy with his team, but he makes time for that friend still; it’s a lifeline that he’s hanging onto as desperately as he can–and then, something happens. Whether its a fucked up battle, or Magneto, or just old age, the last person in the entire world who understood him is gone, and–oh, wait, shit, this is just Captain America: Civil War, my bad.

3. Instead of waking up in 2010 (or whatever), or whenever comics say he wakes up (do even the comic writers know???), Steve wakes up in 1980. “You’re decommissioned,” SHIELD tells him, “and also confidential. Revealing your identity would be a treason charge, except that, if you even try, there won’t be time to charge you for treason because we’ll have you disappeared and/or dead before you reach jail. In fact, that’s not your identity anymore. You have a new name, new birthday, new everything, you don’t get to access your old one, and we’re purging all records of them now. Even if you do tell people you’re Captain America, you’ll look like a crackpot.”

Steve says, “Okay,” and goes out, and starts a new life, he guesses, meets some new people, makes some new friends… Mostly the same kind of friends he had before, so: leftist, marginalized, queer, POC, etc. It takes him a while to adjust to the whole “red scare” thing being what it is, but he’s getting there, and as far as getting out and dating, well, he’s on the queer scene while looking like that status post the whole “free love” thing, so you might say he’s getting the hang of it…

And then the AIDS crisis happens.

Steve can’t get it.

But he can pass it on, and all of his new friends can get it.

No one knows what’s going on. No one knows how it transmits.

By the time anyone figures out how it spreads–by the time Steve figures out how it spreads–he’s already infected at least five people, and those are just the ones he knows about.

2. I’m gonna blatantly steal from @sineala here… Steve wakes up the same as canon, and just as in canon, there’s a war to fight.

Steve winds up back in cryo after.

He wakes up again. After the first time Steve woke up, some of his friends were still alive, but even they have passed by now.

There’s another war to fight, so he does it. By the end, though, he’s tired. Making mistakes. He loses people–some of them, people he shouldn’t have lost. He ends up in cryo again.

When he wakes up, there’s another war to fight.

Everyone he’s ever known is dead. New York City is gone, too–he tried to save it, during the last war, but… He was making mistakes. Some of them were big ones.

He fights another war.

He dies–

–no, wait, he doesn’t die. He wakes up again.

By this point, people are worshipping him: god of war, who appears when your need is greatest to destroy your enemies… It’s the last thing he ever wanted. But what else can he do? There’s a war to fight. He fights it.

He seeks out cryo, this time. He’s tired. He wants to rest. He finds him a cryo set-up and–

He can’t sleep. His body collapses, but his mind stays awake. He tries to kill himself, but he can’t do that either. He really is a god of war, now, made unkillable by their belief in him.

He will never be free from blood and death and atrocity, ever again.

1. My Avengers: Endgame “””fix-it””” idea:

Steve goes to take back all the stones, as in canon. To take a stone from Vormir, you have to give it a death, right? Well, to return a stone to Vormir, you have to give it a life.

Steve has to return to the past, live out the rest of his life, and change nothing. Whenever he tries to change something, he sees an orange glow at the corner of his eye and he knows, he knows, that that’s Vormir giving the Stone to Red Skull. So he can’t let anyone know it’s him, can’t change anything, can’t avert any of the tragedy….

He’s locked in, trapped, silently screaming in his own mind for the next seventy years.

No wonder he looks old by the time he makes it to that park bench.

#Steve Rogers #angst #salt #WOW that was harder than expected!#chucktaylorupset

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writing-of-a-british-bitch · 5 years

Text

As it began

Fandom: Xmen: Apocalypse (with mentions of Xmen: Days Of Future Past)

Specified gender: Female

Pairing: Warren Worthington III x reader/ Platonic!Charles Xavier x reader

TW: language, death, mentions of suicide, a lot of angst

Genre: ANGST

Word Count: 9.4K

Requests: OPEN

Masterlist

A/n: THE GERMAN AND POLISH IN THIS PROBABLY ISN’T ACCURATE (There are translations) italics means flashback! The second gif will make sense when you read the fic ;) This is a Warren x reader, but it HUGELY focuses on Charles and the reader's relationship. And Bitch. I’ve been working on this fic for well over a month and I’ve been so hyped for it. I’m so incredibly happy that I get to post it. I got the title idea from White Queen by the way. Enjoy you guys! I’m so proud of this fic!!!!! Also, this is the longest fic I’ve ever written by FAR! Massive thanks to @writingfortoomanyfandoms for listening to my constant bullshit and proofreading certain parts. Ily wifey.

When Charles had taken her in as his own, it'd changed both of their lives. She'd been abandoned on the steps of his mansion when she was just two years of age, causing a large amount of panic to be instilled in the mutant. He and Hank had gone over any and every possible scenario, including making the decision on whether or not to keep her. Eventually, after a long, and quite heated discussion, Charles settled on the decision of keeping her. To raise her as his own. (Y/N) Xavier had her father wrapped around her little finger. There wasn't a thing he wouldn't do for her. That was until he began taking that evil serum that gave him his legs but took his powers. At that stage in life, she had been residing in the mansion for four years, meaning she had been there since 1968, six years after Charles losing any use of his legs. And for some reason, that thought agitated Charles. But he never yelled at her. His anger was always at Hank or anyone who tried to visit. However, even after he'd stopped taking the serum and reopened the school, he'd sent her away to Erik, knowing she would be safe in his protection. 1975 became (Y/N)'s worst year for that one reason. It was a little too much for the nine-year-old to understand. And no matter how many times Erik attempted to explain it to the young girl, she would never understand. She couldn't understand why mutants were exiles and reject, seeing as the only ones she'd yet to come into contact with were all beyond kind to her. Of course, she didn't understand.

But she understood now. A whole eight years later had brought equal amounts of good and bad knowledge of mutants to her vulnerable mind. Erik's family had become her own, though Erik would tell her stories of her own father at her times of need and fear. It comforted her, though she hadn't seen him in a long time, the memories she held of him were fond and brought a smile to her face. (Y/N) had been sitting on the couch reading a book and Erik's wife, Magda, was folding some clothes. It was peaceful. Magda was like a mother to her, as Erik was a second father, and Nina was like her sister. Suddenly, Erik rushed through the door, causing the teen to jump at the noise of the door bouncing against the wall. He was speaking through hurried words about how they all had to leave.

"You did a good thing; you saved that man!" Magda argued, putting a hand on Erik's arm as he began collecting belongings, dashing through the rooms, his wife hot on his heels. She watched from the couch, unsure of what to do, feeling helpless and lost.

"That's not the point. If I'm exposed, we're all exposed," Erik stopped, moving to stand before his wife, resting a hand on her cheek, "We have to go."

"This is our home. This is our two daughters home," She shot back, gesturing blindly towards (Y/N) and she felt her heart warm, despite the tense and fearful situation.

"We are their home. I told you who I was the first night I met you. I trusted you then. I need you to trust me now. We can't stay here anymore," A sigh escaped his wife's lips and she glanced at the girl, still sat frozen on the couch, though she was on the edge of her seat now. (Y/N) knew very well how dangerous it was for Erik's cover to be blown, despite being young at the time of his most recent incident. She was young and naive. But she wasn't completely stupid.

"I'll go get Nina," Magda stated before darting upstairs. Erik's eyes fell to the girl. Practically his other daughter. He could see the panic in her eyes. The fear she felt. He felt guilty. Slowly, Erik made his way over and pulled her into a hug. (Y/N) breathed him in, feeling safe in his arms. Her real father wanted nothing to do with her, she hadn't seen her adoptive father in years, so being held by a father figure was one of the nicest feelings she'd experienced.

"I know you're scared, but you've no reason to be. I made a promise to protect you and I will keep that promise to you, my wife and my daughter, even if it kills me," (Y/N) had never known sentimentality in his voice before Magda. It was almost like a breath of fresh air when you heard it for the first time. But the moment was broken by Magda, rushing back downstairs.

"She's not in her room," Magda's voice held trepidation and that made the teen incredibly anxious like never before. Instantaneously, she broke the hug and bolted to the window, seeing Nina's common spot barren.

"I don't see her out back," (Y/n) added, feeling her heart drop to her toes. Quickly, just as Erik and Magda began running around the house, she pulled on her shoes. Before she could get outside, Erik had already beaten her too it and the trio was sprinting to the forest, calling out the child's name. All of them felt their blood run cold at the sight of a group of police officers gathered in an opening, the front officer holding Nina in a tight grip, unrelenting even as she squirmed and struggled.

"Are you okay?" Erik called to his daughter, eyeing the police officers with narrowed eyes, anger spiking through him as they tightened their hold.

"Nic jej nie jest( she's fine), "The officer reassured coldly and Magda took a step forward, despite Erik's warning glance.

"Then let her go!" She yelled and (Y/N) carefully took Magda’s hand in hers to settle her despite the rage coursing through her.

"Zrobimy to. Chcieliśmy tylko porozmawiać (We will. We just wanted to talk)" Another officer added. The teen could spy Erik shooting Nina a reassuring look, and she calmed slightly.

"Nie nosisz odznaki. Żadnego metalu( You aren't wearing your badges. No metal)," Erik remarked quietly, watching as the officers shifted uncomfortably. It was clear they feared him despite their tough exterior. Their twitching. Their nervous habit. The things that made them so painfully human. The things that made them so weak.

"Niektórzy ludzie z fabryki powiedzieli, że coś dzisiaj widzieli. Coś, co nie miało sensu. Byłeś dobrym obywatelem, Henryk. Dobry sąsiad, dobry pracownik. Chciałbym w to uwierzyć. ( Some men from the factory said they saw something today. Something that made no sense. You have been a good citizen Henryk. A good neighbour, a good worker. I would like to believe that)" Magda took another step forward at that comment. Erik was a good man. (Y/N) thought so anyway.

"On jest (He is!)" She yelled, the hand that wasn't linked with (Y/N)'s clenched. However, th police simply ignored the woman, continuing on. (Y/N) was desperate to say something. But she knew better. She'd been taught, both by Charles and Erik, that in a moment of potentially life-threatening conflict, let adults talk, until she was one herself.

"Ale nikt w mieście tak naprawdę nie wie, kim jesteś (But no one in town really knows who you are)," The man raised his eyebrows a little, prompting Erik for a response.

"Wszyscy wiedzą. Jestem Henryk Gurzsky! Jacob, nawet zjadłem u niego obiad ( Everybody knows. I am Henry Gurzsky. Jacob, I even had dinner at your place)" Erik sounded panicked. Something she hadn't heard in a long time. He was scared. Terrified even. Jacob's eyes turned venomous, eyebrows turning down into a glare.

"A ty cały czas kłamałeś. Wpuściłem mordercę do domu (And you were lying all the time. I let a murderer into my house)."Jacob growled, but the family tensed in unison as the front police officer, the one holding Nina, produced a newspaper. It had a black and white picture of Magneto on the front, back in Washington, "Czy to pan nazywa się, Magneto? (Are you the one called Magneto?)" Erik's eyes turned desperate. He spared a glance at the women behind him. He couldn't do this to them. But he had to.

"Poddaję się. Proszę. Pozwólcie mojej córce odejść.( i surrender. please. Let my daughter go)" He begged, taking a cautious step forward, eying the archers with distrust evident in his blue hues. Tentatively, the officer released Nina, the girl instantly sprinting into her father's arms. Erik returned the hug tightly, wishing he could stay with her forever.

"Idź z matką. (Go with your mother)" Erik murmured to his daughter, tenderly pushing her so Magda could pull her into a protective embrace, tight against her body. (Y/N) wanted to intervene, offer herself instead, pull Erik back. Anything. She had been taught better to act on her emotions. Nina fought against Magda, trying to break free of her arms, screaming out.

"Proszę! Nie zostawiaj mnie. Nie pozwolę im cię zabrać! (Please! Don't leave me. I won't let them take you!)"Birds flocked in, seemingly, out of nowhere, aiming their sharp beaks and beady eyes at the officers. Their claws scratched and their beaks pecked, all of the officers ducking and flailing their arms in surprise. Magda speedily twisted Nina around, trying to stop her. But in all the commotion, everyone failed to notice a singular arrow shooting through the air.

(Y/N) let out a short scream as the arrow struck Nina, eyes widening and tears filling her eyes, hand covering a mouth as a sob escaped her throat. Erik's eyes were glossy and he sprinted over, collecting his wife and child in his arms. His nose was buried in his daughter's hair, tears leaking down his cheeks. She couldn't believe it. They were gone. A part of her wished it had been her instead of them. After all the hardship Erik had faced, he deserved happiness. And he'd found it. And in a second he'd lost it again. (Y/N) wished the arrow hit her. Erik barely glanced up as Nina's locket began floating before suddenly raced through the air. The metal glided through the men's necks, each of them falling one by one. He caught the bloodied locket in his hand, clutching it tightly, before letting out a sob into his girls' shoulders. (Y/n) felt terrified. She'd never felt that way before. Not around him. Never around him. Erik knew that without even looking. Why wouldn't she be?

"You should leave. You're no longer safe with me. Germany is the safest place for you right now. Away from me.

Only a few days later, (Y/N) had found herself in Germany, finally using the language Erik had taught her so many years ago. She was alone. Vulnerable. No one to guide her. No one to call a friend. Or a father. Her place of residence, given that she had no money, had become an abandoned bungalow. The bricks were disintegrating with every day that passed, rain pelting through the gaps in the roof whenever the weather called of it. Most of the doors had been knocked down, but the few that remained were slowly rotting away. It was always freezing and made her curl into herself and shiver, but it was the closest thing she had at home. Half of her brain was screaming at her to go back home to Charles, but she had no way of returning to her dad. So there she stayed, avoiding anyone she could, only leaving when she really needed to. Somehow, she fell into some sort of a schedule, giving her some peace of mind, Until they came. She'd been hurt. She was unprotected. She was a perfect target.

A large crash distracted (Y/N) from her task, instantly placing her on high alert. Erik's words swam around her head 'Don't let them corner you' ' Don't let them overpower you.' Carefully, and as silently as possible, she lifted herself onto a low hung piece of wood. The seventeen-year-old hoisted herself through a gap in the roof, head peeking over the side just as a small group barged into the room she was previously positioned in. There were two females, both held themselves defensively. One of them had pure white hair and the other had dark hair. Complete opposites but nothing particularly interesting to (Y/N). When her eyes shifted over to the two males, her opinion quickly changed. All of a sudden, the group had piqued her interest. The man, if she could call him that, was tall with a strong physique, easily towering over the others, His face was a light blue, dark navy etching decorating his face. Then she saw him. Blond curls sprouted from his head, making him look angelic as light filtered through the broken windows, huge opposition to the leather jacket he wore. He had gorgeous green orbs and (Y/N) felt her heart stutter. She watched as the group looked around, mumbling hushed words between them. She couldn't help but wonder if they were looking for her. But, surely, that was impossible. Why would they be looking for her?

"There's no one here. You were wrong," The woman with white hair stated, and the three younger followers turned their harsh stares to the man stood in front of them. The blue-faced man remained still, almost frozen until his eyes suddenly snapped to (Y/n). Her eyes widened in shock, her heart pounding, and she launched herself off of the short roof. As soon as she hit the floor, her legs were moving as fast as they could carry her, They may not have been a risk, but she didn't want to take that chance. She sped through the empty field that isolated the bungalow, desperately trying to reach the forest before they got too close. She prayed for luck. She didn't receive it. A loud clinking sounded from behind her, strong arms wrapping around her waist and pulled her backwards, letting go the moment before her body made contact with the hard floor. A groan broke from her cracked lips and she sat up slowly, shielding her eyes from the sun. A figure blocked the sun a second later. Then two. Then three. Then four. Her eyes opened, fear glistening in them.

'Don't show fear' the words, though spoken to her so long ago, snapped her back to reality. (Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows, glaring at the group.

"Wer seid ihr?( Who are you?" She demanded, using an arm to support her body. When she received no response, she could feel resentment rising in her.

"Ich sagte, wer Zum Teufel bist du? (I said, who the fuck are you?)" It was then she noticed that the curly haired boy had two silver, metal wings growing from his back. An angel in sense of the word.

"Wir Sind Hier um Ihnen etwas anzubieten ( we are here to offer you something), "The angel responded and (Y/N) stood up, finding amusement as the three younger people tensed, folding her arms over her chest.

"Oh? Und was wäre das? (Oh? And what would that be?)"Every second that passed made her feel more on edge, wishing Erik or Charles were there.

"A way to show your true potential. Your mutation is your greatest strength," The blue-faced man's voice was low, breathy. It sounded almost like he was choking.

"Verpiss dich ( Fuck off). I don't have a mutation. So thanks, but no thanks. You wasted your time," After living in Poland for so long, a slight accent tinted her voice, intriguing Warren greatly. Yet, it almost made her cringe, memories of Magda and Nina clouding her thoughts. Just as she had turned her back to the group, she fell to her knees, a scream of agony tearing through her mouth. Millions of thousands of voices filtered into her brain, all overlapping and shouting. Her ears rung and she brought her hands to cover her ears, nails digging into her scalp. For some unknown reason, the sight bothered Warren immensively and he had to turn his head away. Her screams made him want to vomit. In her moment of weakness, (Y/N) failed to notice the ice gathering around her knees and her fingertips. Frost patterned her hand and arms and the ice gradually slithered down to her elbow. But just as the voices had begun, they were cut off once more. Chest heaving, she looked over her shoulder, fearfully taking her hands from her ears.

"What did you do to me?" She breathed it. She'd never heard herself sound so defenceless. She hated it.

"I showed you your true ability. If you come with me, I can train you to your full potential," A voice deep down was telling her to run. But in that moment of unguarded emotion, she accepted.

When (Y/N) was brought back to Poland with Storm, Psylocke, Warren and Apocalypse, Warren could feel the uneasiness radiating from her. The assembly arrived outside a factory, a man she knew far too well stood in front of the entrance. She hid behind Warren and, despite only knowing her for a few hours, he felt like he had to protect her. The longing glances didn't go unnoticed by Psylocke, who narrowed her eyes in warning. Warren swiftly outstretched his wings just enough to cover the newly discovered mutants. He didn't know what had come over him. All he knew was that he would die for her, should it come to it.

"Who the fuck are you?" Erik turned to face them, flinching when Apocalypse took a step closer "Stay back. Whoever you are, don't try to stop me from killing these men," (Y/N) shuddered. Never before had she heard him speak like that. She knew what he'd done in the past. Who didn't? But hearing those words from his mouth unsettled her.

Their fingers were locked together as Apocalypse ran a hand down Warren's temple and cheek, leaving a black tattoo in his wake. It'd been days since he'd first met her, but something had clicked between the pair. An angel, who never allowed himself to trust anyone, had become attached in such a short amount of time. That alone made him anxious. And he wasn't the only one. Erik had nearly fought her trying to make her stay away. He wanted to protect one of the last family members he had left. Both himself and (Y/n) knew that he couldn't do that if she went through with it.

"You can't do this," Erik stated, watching as she patched up a hole in Storm's outfit. Something Charles and Magda had taught her.

"I can. And I'm going to," She replied, eyes still fixed on the needle and thread, pulling a piece of thread between her teeth.

"I won't let you" He shot back, and though his voice was calm, she could tell he was perturbed. Before he was discovered in Poland, he'd never been so firm with her. Upon her thirteenth birthday, she had been granted free will and trust. She never dared cross him. Always the perfect child. Erik not once failed to see Charles in her, though she wasn't biologically his. His characteristics had rubbed off on her. And Erik didn't know if he could bear to see her fall.

"Erik, don't try and stop me. I've made my decision," (Y/N)'s voice turned harsher, taking the thread from her teeth as she finished working on the outfit. Despite the tense atmosphere, she still gracefully folded the outfit. Something Charles used to do, Erik recalled.

"I promised Charles-" Alarm bells rang in Erik's head when she stood up, an ice blast shooting from her hand, narrowly missing his ear.

"Fuck what you promised Charles! He decided to give me away to you, so I couldn't care less what he says," She seemed surprised as he was. Not at any time had she said a bad word of Charles. She'd admired him for forever. She was already losing her way. It hurt to see. Though at that moment, Erik's emotions took charge, causing him to snap. Something he swore he'd never do in front of her. Yet it had happened twice.

"You're not putting yourself in danger! I won't lose you too!" In his rage, a stray piece of metal flew at her, knocking her into the wall. Her head made contact with the wall before she fell down onto her hands and knees. A shaky hand came to graze the back of her head, pulling back only to see a bit of blood staining her frosted fingers. Upon seeing the blood, Erik took a few steps back. No. He had hurt her. He was supposed to be her protector. How could he? With all the commotion, Warren had run in, instantly rushing to her side, a hand on her shoulder and another on her waist. He was glaring daggers at Erik as he carefully helped her out. Expletives escaped Erik's lips as he threw the nearest object at the wall, making it shatter on impact.

"Ow, fuck," (Y/N) hissed, flinching away from Warren's delicate touch. The angel narrowed his eyes, pulling her back to his chest.

"Hold still," His words were harsh, trying to hide the rising concern in his body, accidentally pressing a bit too hard on her head. She turned in his lap, now straddling him, slapping his shoulder sharply.

"Careful!" That tone frightened her. Since she was young, her words were soft spoken. Charles had instilled it into her. The coldness of her voice was icier than her mutation could ever be. It was like a shard of glass, impaling whoever it was directed at.

"Can't you see that I'm trying? I could just leave you here to sort your own shit out, "Warren grumbled, glaring at her. She let out a sigh, resting her head on his chest.

"I'm sorry. Thank you for taking care of me, Warren," (Y/N) was exhausted. He could see it in her eyes. She'd been pushed to the limit by Apocalypse when training. Never giving her a chance to catch her breath. It wasn't fair. But she needed to learn. Warren released a frustrated huff, linking his hands behind her back. Why couldn't he stay mad at her? He'd been notorious for holding grudges against people for years over the smallest things, yet he couldn't seem to bring himself to be angry at her. Somehow, that irked him more.

"Warren, did you hear me?" She repeated, causing Warren to snap out of his trance and look down into her sparkling (E/C) orbs. He didn't expect what he did next. He didn't know why he did it or quite how it happened, but before they both knew it, their lips were locked in a searing kiss. (Y/N)'s fingers tangled in his hair and Warren gripped her hips, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Her lips were perfectly moulded for his and he felt like he'd died and gone to heaven. Fitting for him, really. The moment felt amazing but Warren broke the kiss, placing his forehead on hers. He resisted the temptation to touch his lips, still tingling from the hard but oh so wonderful kiss.

"(Y/N), you know we can't do this," he mumbled, his hot breath fanning over her lips. The warmth of his lips was teasing her. But she knew that he was right.

"I know," She responded sadly, not yet daring to open her eyes. Because if she opened her eyes, she wouldn't be able to hold herself back.

"I don't want us to get involved. We're going to war in a few days. And if we carried this on when that happens, there's no guarantee we'll return to each other. I can't hurt you like that," His words were barely audible like he was terrified of the thought. And honestly, he was. Silently, she nodded, climbing off of him, beginning to walk the door. He swore he could hear both his and her hearts breaking as she stopped at the door.

"Thanks for fixing up my head. I appreciate you more than you think."

Erik was mumbling to himself as Apocalypse decorated (Y/N)'s back with a dark tattoo, a long-dead language imprinting her skin in barely legible writing, just about visual through the sheer costume she wore. Her (H/C) locks had been tainted a dark blue at the ends, closely matching the shade of her fingertips. The subtle changes made her look different. Erik wasn't quite sure he liked it at all. All of a sudden, Apocalypse turned abruptly, staring directly at Erik. His head turned up to the ceiling after an almost silent statement she couldn't hear.

"It's always the same. And now this. No more stones; no more spears, no more slings; no more swords! No more weapons! No more systems! No more!" The god's voice raised with each item, bouncing off the cold stone walls and reverberating through the ears of the mutants. (Y/n) clung to Warren's hand. And at first, Erik thought her to be scared. But to his great dismay, he saw a grin rise on her cheeks at Apocalpyse's declaration "No more superpowers." Erik couldn't bear to see her change of character. The evil glint in her eyes. The darkness that tinted her innocent smile. He barely noticed a portal being opened until Psylocke aggressively pulled him inside. The group reappeared in a hallway that was pain-wrenchingly familiar to Erik and (Y/n). She tried to ignore the ache in her heart when she noticed the shock and sadness that crossed Hank's face upon seeing her. Then there was her father, leant over, unconscious in his wheelchair.

"Erik," Raven began softly, only to be interrupted when Erik speedily extended his arm, Charles' chair being dragged to him, his body limp and lifeless. It hurt to see him but she rapidly turned with Psylocke and Storm and walked back through the portal. A violent cough escaped her lips as she inhaled some sand on the other side. Warm gusts of air blew her hair and a drift in the wind brought out a desperate scream.

"CHARLES!"

She couldn't bring herself to look at her father. Despite the change of views and perspectives being brought to light, she couldn't watch him in pain. Warren had noted it. Of course, he had. (Y/n)'s tense uncomfortableness had not been lost on him. It was a dead giveaway. He wanted to guide her. Help her. But he couldn't risk it. In such a life-threatening time, he couldn't let himself get attached. A thought tickled the back of his mind. Because he knew it was too late and he was absolutely, positively sewn to her. Anyone could suspect it, given how close in proximity they remained at any provided moment together. Erik could see it. And he knew the look they both gave each other. The look he used to give to his wife.

A groan rose from Charles' mouth as he slowly regained consciousness. Warren knew little of (Y/N)'s backstory, though, from the way she shifted beside him, he could perceive that she and the professor had some sort of history, as clearly strained as it was. Charles reached up, pinching the bridge of his nose. Something she remembered him doing when everyone's thoughts were particularly loud.

"You're blocking me. How?" He asked, annoyance and confusion concocted together in his voice. Hearing his voice after so many years almost made his daughter flinch and question herself. What was she doing? She didn't stand by Apocalypse's values. Yes, she did. Of course, she did. Why would she be here otherwise? Apocalypse leant down slightly before taking a seat before him. Charles' eyes were squinting from the almost blinding sunlight beating down on the group.

"I can shield their minds from your powers. One of the many gifts I've acquired over the millennia. But to see inside the mind... to control it. That's your gift," Apocalypse got closer, his voice lowering in volume. Menacing. Almost. "You saw it, didn't you? The glory of what's to come," Charles wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a response and jerked his head to Erik instead.

"You're going to take part in all this killing? The destruction?" Erik's eyes narrowed at the question.

"It's all I've ever known," He replied and Charles let out a weak, quiet scoff.

"No, it's not. You've just forgotten," Charles responded instantly, propping his arms against the floor so he could sit up. (Y/n) could remember being picked up by him and being driven around the mansion with him in his wheelchair, everything passing in a blur. She could remember, when he started taking the serum, chasing her around in circles, laughter echoing through the entire house before the mood swings kicked in. That was her father. And she was siding against him.

"No Charles, I remember. Your way doesn't work," As Charles tilted his head to look back at Apocalypse, a gleam of metal in the sun caught his eye. His heart almost shattered at that moment. She was there. His daughter. (Y/n) was stood right there, hand locked with Warren's, eyes glued to the floor. He'd watched her grow with Cerebro. But it was nothing like seeing her in person. He only wished it had been under better circumstances.

"(Y/N)," Charles called out softly. He observed helplessly when her face shifted before his view was obstructed by shining wings as Warren turned her around, arm around her shoulder, wings extended

The clinking of wings was the only way (Y/N) knew Charles had been placed down. Until there was a gentle request of her name.

"(Y/N), he's using you. You know that. This group aren't good for you. You don't stand for their beliefs," She didn't. She knew that. No. She did stand for them. She had to. Both desperation and disappointment were present in his voice. She narrowed her eyes, turning sharply on her heel.

"How would you know what morals I stand for? You haven't seen me since you gave me away," She snarled and Warren eyed the exchange curiously, watching sadness fill Charles' features. He was looking at her like he'd never seen her before. It took everything in her to not crack under Charles' gaze. And Charles could see it. In her eyes. But he also saw something darker. A force. A state of mind that he'd taught her to fight. And she'd succumbed to it. He couldn't see her fighting it once more.

"I gave you to Erik to protect you," He shot back, pushing himself up slightly.

"Well, look how that turned out," A loud crash outside distracted the two teens and Apocalypse made an entrance, his thundering footsteps slowly making their way closer.

"Enough," His voice, though hushed and lowered in volume, seemed to load the expanse of the room vibrate through every crevice."My children, you have done me well. Guard this place. Let not a soul disturb us."

"You're just another false god. Whoever's left to follow you and when this is all over they will betray you again, "Warren shoved Charles back against the stone slab, a grunt escaping his lips at the contacts. Charles had to keep his eyes on Apocalypse, for if he looked at (Y/n) he knew he'd see something he'd always feared. Seeing her lose to herself.

"(Y/N), go find Storm and Psylocke. I'll deal with the disappearing bastard," Warren did a tester spin, sharp feather-shaped knives firing from his wings. Perfect shot.

"Keep yourself safe," (Y/N) replied, adjusting her outfit. Warren gave her a smirk, disguising his concern with his bad-boy demeanour.

"No promises," With that, Warren launched himself into the air, flying to the peak of the building, positioned in the darkness. (Y/n) let out a sigh before sprinting out into the light, scrubbing her eyes as they adapted to the beating sun. In that second, however, a flash of silver knocked her over, a punch instantly being landed on her cheek. Another punch was placed in her ribs before someone pulled on her legs, tugging her so her head made contact with a stray stone, reopening the wound previously left by Erik. Peter attempted to strike the girl once more but ice swarmed around his ankles, pinning his feet to the ground. With a growl, a blue blast exploded from her hand, knocking Peter back. She was gone before he had the chance to get up. Loud snarls came from behind her, Hank gaining up on her. As he went to attack, she turned to face him and his eyes widened. The shock caused him to come to a harsh halt, his heels digging into the sand. She was here. A sharp pain tore through his body before he could contemplate the thought, ripping an agonised scream from his body, barely able to see Storm hover over to (Y/n) and pick her up to place her on a building top. It gave the mutant better aim. Storm hovered in the air, situated in the large gap between (Y/N) and Psylocke. Psylocke looked over at the two.

"Split them up!"She called, nodding at Scott, Hank and Jean. Storm's eyes transformed into a bright white, electrical sparks dancing between her fingertips. (Y/N) and Storm shared a look as (Y/N) sent ice in a line between the mutants, Storm using the solidified water to turn the ice deadly. The three x-men jumped out of the way, narrowly avoiding the skin-frying river between them. Just as (Y/N) went to assault them again, a flash of light distracted her, watching in horror as she saw Warren and Kurt disappearing and reappearing every few seconds.

"(Y/N)! No distractions!" Psylocke hissed, but she had already taken off, using the ice to quicken the place. That was until a red beam fired right beside her leg, singeing part of her outfit as she was sent to the side. She let out a pained moan, rubbing her ribs to ease the pain of landing on some metal. Suddenly, that same gust of wind returned picked the girl up and threw her in a pile of rubble, half of it collapsing on top of her. (Y/N)'s arms were pinned to her sides. She could barely breathe, only able to let out an almost silent call for help. She was going to die. No. She couldn't die. She'd never been so petrified in her life. Storm rushed over, earning a furious glare from Psylocke

"Leave her! She put herself in danger!" She exclaimed, using her neon pink rope-like whip to attack Hank, curling around his neck. Storm paid little mind, floating over to the pile (Y/N) was buried under. She began clawing at the rocks, tossing them behind her. All of a sudden, another pair of hands joined Storm in her quest to free the younger mutant and she looked up to see Erik pulling at the rubble. After a few seconds, though it felt like years, a hand poked through and the pair helped pull (Y/N) out. She coughed violently, holding her throat tenderly, rubbing her eyes to rid them of the dust that had fallen into them upon impact. Erik gestured for Storm to leave and (Y/N) attempted to silently ger up, only to be pushed back down by Erik.

"What are you doing? I need to get back out there!" She stated weakly, though the ambition in her eyes was undeniable.

"I think you've done enough for one day," Erik barely finished his sentence before he was sent backwards bt an ice blast. (Y/n) stood up, jumping onto a neighbouring rooftop, looking back ar Erik.

"Good thing I don't need your permission," she remarked and sprinted off.��

Warren noticed her on the roof as he soared through the air, risking a glance between the plane full of mutants and the girl. He yelled out her name and the duo shared a gaze as she leapt off the edge of the building. There were few people she trusted with her life. For some reason, Warren was one of them. Similarly to a few days ago, Warren's arms worked their way around her waist, but instead of tugging her to the ground, they elevated her instead. The winged boy landed on the plane, still keeping a tight grip on (Y/N), using his razor-blade feathers to cut a hole. (Y/N) and Warren dropped through the hole, facing the X-Men. She caught the group, each of them latching onto a different part of Kurt. She could barely look at Charles when an odd sense of guilt began climbing through her but she tried shoving aside as Warren began advancing. She quickly followed behind, watching with panicked eyes as the group started to flicker. But just as Warren went to pounce on the group, Hank jerked the plane so its nose was directed to the ground. The horsemen were sent backwards and (Y/N) let out a pained scream as Warren's wings lacerated her right arm. With an almost impossible strength and swiftness, Warren spun himself and the girl around. Tears had filled her eyes as the cut in her arm began throbbing and Warren's face contorted to one of sadness. No. She knew that look. He couldn't. He wouldn't. But he did. His wing sliced through the wall beside her and she latched onto him before he could get to the other side of her.

"No. Don't you dare. Don't you fucking dare, Warren," Warren closed his eyes at her plea, resting his forehead on her own.

"I'm sorry," He whispered before he jolted her backwards and cut the other wall. Her body was sent flying through the air, terrified shrieks tearing from her throat. Two arms caught her before she got too close to the ground and she looked up to see Storm giving her a worried look. She placed her down but as she went to speak, a yell broke from (Y/n) as the plane made contact with the floor with a near-deafening crack.

"WARREN!" Her feet couldn't seem to carry her fast enough. X-men kept trying to hit her but she dodged their attempts. Warren was the only thing on her mind. The wreckage was being swallowed by flames, her arm was stinging and her head pounding. She had to get to him, Casting snow over the fire, she looked around frantically until she spied his sweetcorn- blonde locks. Desperately, she began shoving metal and rubble out of the way, finally reaching him. Cuts and bruises bloomed on his face and neck and she dreaded to think what wounds lingered beneath his clothes. Tears dribbled down her cheeks as she cupped his face. (Y/N) was almost too scared to check his pulse. She didn't want him to be...he wouldn't be. He'd be fine. He had to ber. The x-men watched in shock at the interaction. They'd almost forgotten that most of the group were still kids. Just like them. Erik eyed the pair. He knew there had been something going on between them. She was like a daughter to him. And he knew he had to help her. Slowly, he extended his hand, face twisting in concentration, focusing on the plane. Shakily, the remnants of the plane began rising, lifting from the trapped boy and Erik placed it down a few metres away, Reluctantly, (Y/N) put her fingers on his pulse point, almost releasing a sob of relief when she felt a pulse, as erratic as it was. One of her tinted blue hands ran through his hair, lips wobbling slightly. Hank couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. Erik had saved Warren's life purely because (Y/N) cared for him. He'd never seen that much sentimentality in Erik. It gave him hope. For both Erik and (Y/N).

But now, there was a rage bubbling inside her like never before. Apocalypse had tricked them. Offered protection for his army in their most vulnerable moments and nearly gotten Warren killed. He had to be stopped. For Warren. She stood up on trembling legs. Her body language screamed weak, especially considering the blood that leaked down her arm, playing an acrobat act on her fingertips before dropping the ground. But the fire in her eyes was bone-chilling. Wiping away the last of her tears, she looked over to where Apocalypse was stood. Raven's throat was gripped between his strong fingers. (Y/N) could see the fear on her face. On everyone's face. But she couldn't see Erik. Where could he have gone? She froze, hiding behind a wall.

"The great hero. You are feeble. Just like the others," (Y/N) saw Storm's face, shock plastered on it. She could faintly recall Storm telling her that Mystique was her idol. And she was being strangled right in front of her. She couldn't imagine what that was like. She didn't want to "CHARLES! Come rescue your weaklings! Give your life for theirs!" It was then that her eyes latched onto silver strands. Peter's leg was crooked at a weird angle and an expression of pain was painted onto his face. "CHARLES! Will you do nothing?!" There was a pregnant pause, suffocating everyone in suspense. (Y/N) had no idea where her father was. She could only pray that he was safe. Swiftly, she spared a glance at Warren almost as if she was trying to build up her confidence. She had to do this. For him. He had to be safe. And if Apocalypse won, he wouldn't be. A loud thud pulled her eyes back to the group. Raven had been discarded on the floor, gasping for air, and Apocalypse had fallen to one knee. His eyes were squeezed shut and he kept wincing as if he was being abused by an imaginary force. Until he suddenly opened his eyes, a dark glare flooding to his features. His hand rose above his head as he stood once more, the wall to one of the few buildings scattered around Cairo being resorted to dust. (Y/N)'s mouth fell open and a small gasp escaped her lips when she saw who had been revealed. All the x-men (minus Peter and Raven) were crowded around Charles. Menacingly, Apocalypse began advancing, a sly smirk crossing his lips and as (Y/N) moved to step out, a large chunk of metal landed directly in front of Apocalypse, then another, creating an X. Apocalypse turned, as did (Y/N), and scowled. She grinned in parallel. Erik hovered over them, stone-faced.

"You betrayed me," Apocalypse stated, a glare taking his eyes captive.

"No. I betrayed them," Erik's voice was sharp before thousands of pieces of metal came shooting at Apocalypse's form. Carefully, (Y/N) adjusted the arm of her outfit covering the wound on her arm. She had more important things to worry about. Hank and Scott leapt from the building, Hank racing to Raven and moving her out of the war zone. Scott yanked his glasses from his eyes, a red laser beam coming from his orbs. (Y/N) looked between them before outstretching her arms ice blasts repetitively being discharged from her hands. Everything was going...well. Too well. As soon as that thought swam into her brain, Hank attempted to pounce on Apocalypse, only to be deflected and knocked unconscious upon hitting the wall. Erik was struggling and almost stopped when (Y/N) was sent flipping through the air, landing on her arm. She cried out when her arm with the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks in pain. Only two noticed Jean stepping out onto thin air. A loud scream was released into the atmosphere followed by an almost blinding orange light. With squinted eyes, she looked up, gripping her arm tightly. Upon the scream, Hank jumped awake, quickly punching Scott out of the wall. A purple force field began surrounding Apocalypse as everyone except (Y/N), unleashing their powers.

"He's getting away!" Hank growled. He'd barely finished his sentence when a crash of lightning struck the force-field sending a deafening crack into the air. (Y/N) watched with clouded vision, a tiny smile coming to her face in relief as Apocalypse began flaking away, his eery words lingering in the breeze.

"All is revealed," With a quiet sigh, (Y/N) let her head fall back against the grainy floor, allowing the gathering of black dots control her sight. The last thing she heard was two desperate cries of her names.

Warren had never been so worried his entire life. He couldn't sleep, he could barely eat. Charles had practically forced him to leave the infirmary. He was an outcast. He wished he could say he wasn't used to it. When she was there, he felt wanted and needed. But she was still unconscious a week after the battle. Charles had almost been sick when Erik had come to him with (Y/n), a deep gash implanted into her arm. And when she had woken up, he wanted to be the first one to see her. Unfortunately, she didn't want the same thing. Warren had given her the biggest smile she'd ever seen and, despite being high, on what felt like, nine different types of painkillers, (Y/N) smiled right back before, pulling him into a deep kiss. This time, Warren didn't push away. Though her father was ecstatic that they were happy, another part of him wanted to cry. Since she got to school, she'd avoided him like the plague. If he taught any of her classes, she took off the second he dismissed his students. She refused to accept the telepathic training he'd offered and never came to his office when asked to do so. After a lot of hesitation from the others, she soon made friends with Kurt and Peter but even then, she stayed with Warren. Hank had tried his best to talk to the girl, but only ever got curt responses. Warren and (Y/N) had been given a room together and it was filled with happy memories, despite her attitude outside of it. She'd never loved anyone the way she loved Warren and he could safely say the same.

"Warren, are you listening to me?" Charles asked, alerting the attention of his love-struck angel. Warren's eyes snapped back to the professor, a small smile still glued to his lips. (Y/N) had come outside with Kurt and the pair had sat together on the grass, sipping tea that Kurt had brought out with him. No words were exchanged between the two, just silence as their eyes both skimmed over their books. She looked so peaceful and content. Recently, she'd been beyond stressed because of Warren regrowing his old wings. She cleaned his wings every night and massaged his back when it got sore. Never did she complain. Never had he been touched so tenderly by another person since he was a child. it almost made his heartache for how much love she had to give. But when his eyes fell to her arm, a shiver ran down his spine. He did that. He hurt you. The guilt he felt seemed to triple every time his eyes grazed over the scar. However, he had his old wings back. Soft and fluffy and so much safer for her.

"Sorry professor, I got distracted," His head turned back to (Y/n), a grin forming. Charles sighed, heart, stinging, but forced a smile on.

"Go to her. We'll continue this another day," Not even a second after he'd finished, Warren had already flown halfway across the garden to (Y/N) and Kurt's picnic blanket, nearly knocking over the teapot. Kurt let out a playful grown that earned a laugh from Warren before he pecked her lips, beaming into the kiss. Charles watched with a heavy heart, only to freeze when your eyes locked with his. He gave her a small wave accompanied by a sad-smile, only to be disheartened further when she looked away. Warren's arm wrapped around her shoulder as Kurt babbled away.

"Everything alright, frosty?" He mumbled, eyes scanning her face from any discrepancies.

"I'm fine," She quickly turned back to Kurt, distracting herself with his excited explanation of a movie Scott took him to see.

"Professor?" A young voice called. Charles turned his head to glance to his doorway. Alexander stood there, red locks glittering in the light of Charles' fire, blue eyes shining in fear. The clock on the professor's desk read long past midnight. He shouldn't be awake, let alone other students.

"Alexander? It's late, what are you doing awake?" Charles placed his pen down, wheeling over to the eight-year-old.

"They're arguing again. And it's really cold," He had barely noticed that Alexander was shivering. No one had to who 'they' were. The past three nights, Warren and (Y/N) had been arguing, waking up other students with their yelling or (Y/N)'s lack of control over her mutations. However, in the past three days, Hank had dealt with it but Hank had gone to another country to collect a student. So it was time for Charles to face the music. With a miniscule shake of his head, Charles lead the boy back to his room, directing other students who'd left their room back into them. Kurt suddenly appeared in front of Charles.

"It's getting worse. I think that it's serious this time," Kurt said, concern filling his heavily-accented voice, his hair ruffled and eyes still crusted over with sleep.

"Alright, Kurt. Don't worry. I'll sort it out. Go back to bed, please," Charles reassured the mutants and Kurt gave him an awkward but grateful smile before disappearing once more. When Charles reached the door to (Y/N) and Warren's room, he could hear their conversation clearly through the door, shooing students who continuously exited their rooms.

"Babe, we both need fucking help! You can't keep being so selfish!" Warren boomed, his wings folding behind him as he circled the room anxiously.

"I never said you couldn't talk to him! I just don't want to myself!" She snapped back, a hand running through her hair. She was sick of having the same quarrel over and over again.

"Why not? He's your father! You said you were close!" Charles felt his heart stop. They were arguing about him. because of him.

"Yeah! We were! But how could I face him after what I did?" Her voice lowered, so Charles could only hear the beginning of her statement. A few more words were murmured behind the door before Charles turned the handle, both pairs of eyes snapping to him like deers caught in headlights.

"(Y/N), my office. Now. It's not a request this time, either," Charles commanded, though his voice was soft and kind. He made his way back to his office, waiting for his daughter. He daren't read her thoughts. He couldn't invade her privacy like that. After a few minutes, the quiet creak of his office door made Charles look up from the papers before him, watching (Y/N) sheepishly making her way into the room. Her eyes were fixated on her fingers, eyeing how small fragments of frost danced around them. From the moment she stepped in, a chill filtered into the air, making Charles pull his blazer closer to his body.

"(Y/N), you are aware of what you've done, aren't you?" His voice remained soft and gentle. A part of (Y/n) wished that she could open up to him. Be like they used to be.

"Of course I am. Just don't understand why Warren isn't here too. I wasn't the only one," She grumbled, picking at the old worn chair she sat in. That chair used to be in the living room when she was a little girl. Bought back fond memories that she'd rather not think about.

"Because I've needed to talk to you for a while but you've never come to my office," Charles responded pointedly, raising his eyebrows. (Y/N) looked to the burning fire to distract herself.

"I'm only here now because Warren made me," Charles remained silent for a moment, looking at the picture on his desk. It was an old picture, taken when (Y/n) was only three, of her in his lap. He was tickling her as she tried to read a book, her mouth open in laughter and a huge smile on his face. His girl. Sat right in front of him. And yet, it felt like he was talking to a stranger.

"You should know better than to disrupt other students so late at night. It's not fair to them. I know it's not the first time it's happened this week as well," He continued, folding his hands on the desk, gaze intense.

"Alright, I'm sorry. Can I go now?" She huffed, crossing her legs.

"Not just yet. Why won't you talk to me?" Charles sighed. He couldn't keep hiding from this. And he wouldn't let her either. Not anymore.

"I am talking to you," Charles scoffed, shaking his head.

"No, you're not. You're only giving me responses," (Y/N) looked beyond uncomfortable, shifting in her seat awkwardly.

"You really want to know why I'm not talking to you?" She looked up briefly, fire and fear in her eyes. Charles leant forwards, kindness glistening in his eyes. He was getting to her, slowly.

"Of course, I do," There was a pause, tension filling the space between them.

"Because I'm a disappointment. To you. I turned my back on the one person I loved more than life itself. If Warren wasn't here, I'd have probably killed myself by now," She didn't dare look at him. She couldn't. Charles features softened at her confession.

"(Y/N), I-I could never be disappointed in you. You're my daughter. My little girl. no matter what you do, I'd never be disappointed. I was scared that I was going to lose you," The professor reached over and took her hand, sadness flooding into his blue orbs "Why won't you talk to me?"

"I won't let myself. I don't deserve your love and affection," A small crack in her voice seemed to tear his heart from his chest. How could she think that?

"What about Warren?" Charles inquired, though nothing in his voice was demanding, hurt or judgemental.

"Neither of us believes we deserve each other, so being together reassures us both. We're both a little broke," (Y/N) attempted to joke but it only made her sound more troubled by the second.

"You don't have to be. I want to be here for you (Y/N). If you'll let me," She pulled away. No. She was closing off again.

"I can't let you, I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm a monster. I betrayed you. I joined Apocalypse and when you tried to reach out for me, I turned a blind eye," The room continued to grow colder with every moment that passed.

"You were lost and hurt. You did what anyone would've. You found a way to survive," He shot back, watching as the fire was extinguished due to the icy conditions.

"I could've found another way. You always told me that there's always another way," (Y/N) hissed, yanking her hands from him, fearful that the frost of her hands would hurt him. How hadn't she thought of that? She knew her dad would never admit if she was hurting him. She could've been hurting him this whole time and he'd never say a word. How could she be so stupid to let him hold her hand?

"And I've learnt in my time that that's not always true. Even so, sometimes it feels like we have no other option, especially if our minds are clouded. If we judged people by their darkest hour, we'd all be monsters. I mean, you've seen me in mine,"

'Who the fuck allowed him to be that wise at his age?' She thought before averting her eyes to the door. "But I hurt you."

"And I forgive you. Please, come over here," Charles signalled for her to come closer. With a truckload of reluctance, she slowly tiptoed around his desk, balancing on her knees so she wasn't towering over him, elbows placed on his legs. He rested a hand on her face, thumb running over her cold cheek. That's when the walls cracked and the dam burst. Salty tears made their way down her cheeks, her lip trembling. A sob cracked from her throat as more tears streamed down, dripping from her nose an chin. Charles carefully wiped them away, resisting a sad smile when she leant into his touch. After a moment, and a lot of internal debating, (Y/N) clumsily clambered into his lap, wrapping her arms around him, face buried in his neck.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," She couldn't form any other words and Charles reciprocated the hug, running a hand through her hair to calm her. Like he used to when she was just a young child. He pressed a kiss to her temple.

"It's alright. You're safe now. I'll never ket anyone hurt you ever again.”

Those words alone made her know everything would be okay. Maybe not now. maybe not tomorrow. But eventually, everything would be as it should be.

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#phoebe writes #Ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #warren worthington #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington iii #warren worthington iii x reader #warren worthington imagine #warren worthington iii imagine #xmen #charles xavier #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier imagine #erik lehnsherr #erik lensherr x reader

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