#as usual magneto was right

[jonny-versace]

Days of Future Past is a MUCH better film than I remember it being. In fairness I've only seen it twice max but still, great, brutal film

[wandaxpietro]

content warning for magneto inclusion in the ship bcuz I am deranged sorry 😔

ok but concept bcuz I am deranged. silver age brotherhood time. wanda and pietro having sex in their room, talking in their native language (serbian to me but you can choose) and giggling and being cute. they left the door open a crack on accident and magneto walks past and lingers for a few moments, not really knowing why he's watching them anyway. a few year later he finds out he's their dad. oopsie.

[thewingedwolf]

“he isn’t chaos he is sabotage” is such a great take on ledger’s joker put so succinctly that it made all the shit discourse i’ve ever seen on twitter before worth the pain

[ichorai]

snow spider ; miguel o'hara.

pairing ; miguel o'hara x spider!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; you were the ice to his fire—and miguel was burning for you.

words ; 4.4k

themes ; fluff, slight angst

warnings / includes ; set before the events of atsv, descriptions of injury/violence, cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions/appearances of other spidey characters, ben being a dramatic idiot, peter & may being adorable, cameos of magneto and doc ock, miguel is down so bad, can you guys tell i'm also in an asoiaf phase ? (winter is coming !!)

a/n ; there will be a part two set during the events of atsv !!

main masterlist.

You were Miguel’s seventeenth recruit. The first of your name. The first that wasn’t a Peter Parker, or a Jessica Drew, or a Ben Reilly. 

When Miguel dropped into your universe, one rife with crime and tragedy, stricken by a never-ending winter, he fell into a large pile of snow. 

“Damn it,” he whispered through chattering teeth, brushing off the frigid frost clinging to his suit and glancing around the iced-over city. There were sparse few people littering the streets, hovering over trash-fires and clutching rumbling stomachs. This was certainly a stark contrast to Nueva York—the universe looked dead, almost. A ghost town, frozen over into nothing but a glacial artifact.

Before Miguel could start forward to look for the Spider of the universe, a sticky web shot out from seemingly nowhere, binding his hands together. Ah. It seemed that you’d found him before he could find you.

“You’re not from here. I can’t smell the winter on you,” a voice echoed, saturated with curiosity, edged with caution. A second later, you materialized in front of him, clad in a white suit, sharp silver lines running over your form. On your chest was a spider, a pale snowflake engraved into its abdomen. Miguel stared at you with wide eyes. “Who are you?”

A beat of silence. 

“Your universe is cold,” was all he could think of saying, still caught off-guard. 

You took a step back. “My universe…?”

After clearing his throat, he shook himself out of his reverie. “My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m from a different universe. I’m here to recruit you into my team to help keep the multiverse from collapsing.”

You shifted, muscles still tense. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Lifting his wrists, Miguel twisted a hand and used his sharp claws to cut himself free of the sticky bonds. “Let me show you.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Miguel wasn’t supposed to like you this much. You were just meant to be another recruit for the Spider Society… maybe a close work companion, or a trusted friend at best. 

But as he watched you dart in and out of visibility, your suit only but flashes of white and silver, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to work with you. How much he genuinely enjoyed working with you, spending time with you, listening to you laugh at his stiff quips. And he really thought he was being subtle about it, but Jessica had already picked up on Miguel’s keen interest in you, always teasing him about having a crush on another Spider.

It wasn’t a crush, though. No, Miguel just really liked your work ethic.

Right?

“Heads up!” you yelled, swinging forward and using the momentum to kick an incoming car barreling right in his direction. The metal doors caved in beneath the power of your strike, veering to the left just in time to miss him. 

The two of you were taking down another anomaly that’d cropped up, one of the several dozens in only the past week. This anomaly, however, wasn’t the regular neighborhood villain they’d usually get, but instead an omega-level mutant: Magneto. 

Shards of metal rained down around you, but you were quick to deflect by thwipping out large, sticky webs to catch them before they could impale you. 

“This guy manipulates metal, Miguel!” you yelled. “Cuffs won’t work on him!” 

Another large metal pole rocketed straight for you, but Miguel dove towards you, yanking you out of the way.

“Thanks!” you told him, a bit too wound up to notice his large hands tightly wound around your midriff. “Can you distract him for me?”

Nodding wordlessly, Miguel shot out several glowing, synthetic webs in quick succession to momentarily blind Magneto. You used his shoulder to launch yourself upward, turning invisible in mid-air. 

Before the man could realize what was happening, you yanked his protective helmet off, landing a calculated strike to the back of his head. Immediately, all the bits of metal floating in the air came plummeting to the ground, and Magneto went limp in your hold. You swung down to the ground, coming back into view. 

“You’re gonna have to alert one of the Spiders that we need a metal-free cage for him,” you told Miguel, a bit breathless. 

Okay, a lot breathless. There was a sharp sting on your side—a broken piece of metal must have grazed you during the fight.

Miguel wound an arm around you to help you walk, concern festering within his chest at the sight of crimson staining your once-pristine white suit, his other hand dragging an unconscious Magneto by the scruff of his collar. With a tap of the watch, a portal opened up, flashing a multitude of bright oranges and purples. 

Back in his universe, Miguel was quick to hand Magneto over to a few Peters, telling them to be careful not to get any metal near him. You pulled off your mask and squeezed Miguel’s bicep in gratitude when he shifted his hold on you, ensuring that you wouldn’t put any weight on your injured side. Even exhausted, you were beautiful. Miguel remembered the first time he saw you without your mask: the entirety of his linguistic vernacular went flying out the window and he was left embarrassingly spluttering out a long string of incoherent sentences. You were patient with him, beaming wide and nodding emphatically, even though none of what he said had made sense. 

Yeah, alright, fine. Miguel had a crush. It really wasn’t a big deal (it was a very big deal). He’d be damned if he’d ever admit it to Jessica, though—that woman would never let him live it down.

Several Spiders waved hello to the two of you as you hobbled by, and you could only give them a winded half-smile in return. Some of them asked if you were alright, noticing the blood on your suit, but you reassured their worries away, “I’m fine. Miguel’s got me.”

A rush of protectiveness fell over him, and he clutched onto you all the tighter, hurrying to make his way back to the base. There were a few Spiders hanging around the control panels, chattering amongst themselves, and Miguel gave them a quick scan to make sure things were going smoothly since his departure. Once everything seemed to be in order, he finally tugged you into a more secluded room, helping you sit on a table as he grabbed the first aid kit. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, ripping off his mask as well. His dark hair was disheveled, sharp brown eyes softening with guilt. “I got distracted during the fight.”

“Hey, it happens,” you replied warmly, fingers lifting to pat his cheek. The feeling of your cold skin pressed up against the blistering heat emanating from his cheeks made a shiver dance up his spine. “We’re alive, and we got the anomaly. Everything’s fine.” 

“But you’re hurt.”

“I’ll heal.”

With careful, fleeting touches, Miguel drew back the ripped fabric of your suit to inspect the gash in your side. He cleaned away as much blood as he could, murmuring gruff apologies every time you flinched. The guilt worsened when he began deftly stitching up your wound—it didn’t go past his notice when your face twisted with the pain, and you bit your lip in a fruitless attempt to keep the sharp agony at bay.

“You did good out there, Y/N,” he said, desperate to distract you. “What was it like being the Spider in your universe?”

You spared him a loose grin, appreciating his attempts to keep you entertained. 

“Tiring,” you admitted, fingers digging into his shoulders when he began another stitch. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the same story a million times by now. I was a scientist, trying to find a way to reverse the never-ending winter. I was bitten by a radioactive winter-spider… the only kind of spider left after our world iced over. I, uhm… I lost my uncle. My mom, shortly after. She was captain of the police force.” 

There was a long pause. It was obvious that you weren’t too keen on divulging all the details just yet. Your eyes watered with the memory, a glimmering film of tears warbling over your lower lashes, and Miguel gently patted your knee in understanding, silently reassuring you that you didn’t have to tell him everything.

You drew in a deep breath. “I realized I had powers—I had all the abilities of a spider, and I could turn invisible, and withstand the cold much more than before. I was known as the Snow Spider. A lot of people died from the frost. I couldn’t save them. I tried to help as much as I could, but it was just never enough. And then… I met you.” A smile graced your expression, one that sparked life into Miguel’s heart. “I moved from just helping my city, to helping the entire multiverse.”

Before you knew it, Miguel was tying off the last stitch, biting the thread short with his sharp fangs once he was done. You murmured a sincere thanks, placing your palm flat against his chest, feeling the quick thrum of his heart slamming against his ribcage.

If you noticed how his pulse seemed to kick up a notch with your ministrations, you didn’t say anything. For that, Miguel was grateful.

“There you go. That’s a brief summary of my life story. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”

The man met your gaze, irises dark and warring with conflict.

“What’s there to say? I got powers, just like you. I lost people, just like you. I built the Spider Society… and then I met you.” The last bit was said as he nudged you gently, and he offered you a tentative smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Hesitant, you lifted your hand, softly grazing your knuckles against his cheek. Icy was your touch, but it felt nice—almost addicting. He found himself leaning against your hand, shutting his eyes as he exhaled.

“You’re a mystery, Miguel,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks for patching you up, before sliding off the table to stride away. Miguel watched you go with a lump in his throat. “Luckily for you, I like mysteries.”

“How long has that been a thing? I haven’t noticed because I’ve been too busy thinking about my… miserable past,” sighed Ben, coming to stand beside Jessica, the two of them watching Miguel follow after you like a lost puppy, face uncharacteristically mellowed with an undeniable lovesick expression. 

“It’s not a thing,” she replied with an amused scoff. “Not yet, at least.”

You halted what you were doing and turned around to grin at Miguel. “Look, I stitched my suit back together. It’s good as new!” 

His dark, molten eyes gleamed with affection. “It looks great.” He caught sight of your web-shooters, fixed against the base of your hand. “I still can’t believe you need those.”

“Well, I can’t believe you have spinnerets embedded into your skin. I can’t tell if I’m more grossed out or curious to know more,” you shot back, taking his hand to inspect his wrist with narrowed eyes. “What other kind of powers do you have?”

With a roguish grin, he bared his teeth, sharp fangs drawing out. 

“I can never get over those. They’re kinda intimidating, but in a cool way.” Before you could stop yourself, you tacked on, “And really fucking hot.”

Heat crawled up his neck. He stared blankly at you. “They’re poisonous.”

Still, you smiled at him, all sweet and flustered. “Hm. It’s a shame, really. I definitely would’ve asked you to bite me if not for the venom.” Neither of you were quite sure if you were joking or not.

Miguel was certain he was going to combust into flames. “I can still bite you without injecting the poison into your system. It’s a voluntary response.”

To his surprise, you burst into a fit of laughter. Gods, he was absolutely smitten with that sound. The way your nose wrinkled, the side of your eyes creased, the shaking of your shoulders as you chuckled… it was all too much for Miguel.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you warned.

“Oh, I can do much more than just tempt,” said the man in front of you, making your laughter taper away into silence. 

You studied him for a moment longer. Before you could say anything, both of your watches beeped simultaneously. With one more amused huff, you patted his shoulder, brushing past him and pulling your mask over your face. “Come on, mister. Anomalies to catch, universes to save… we can continue this conversation later.”

The months pass by in a blur. 

You were wrangling back another Doc Ock anomaly, having webbed up all his metal tentacles, easily tossing him into a temporary laser cage with a sweet smile. The villain was spitting obscenities, going on and on about the power of the sun in his grasp, how you’d ruined everything for him. 

“You’ll pay for this!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the glowing barrier. 

“Sorry, Doc,” you said with a mild grin. “I’ve met around a dozen of you, and so far, you were the most compliant. That makes you my favorite!”

You saluted him with a wink, before turning on your heel and striding away. It wasn’t long before Miguel found you, falling into step with your stride.

“Look at you, taking on anomalies all on your own,” he murmured lowly, nudging your side with his elbow. “Good job.”

With a scoff, you pulled off your mask, regarding him with an expectant gaze as you leaned forward, so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. He could feel the cold frost of your breath blow over the heated planes of his cheeks. “Well, then, Mr. O’Hara, wouldn’t I deserve a reward?”

The vampire-spider only flushed at your words, mouth falling open and shut as he struggled with a rebuttal. 

Your laugh, soft and tinkering, made his heart nearly seize within his chest. Still chuckling, you shoved away from him, saying that you had to get back to your universe to make sure everything was still in order there.

As you made your way out of the room, using your watch to portal through to your wintry hellscape, Jessica appeared out of nowhere beside him, one hand on her heavily pregnant belly, and the other cocked upon her hip. 

“God, you really can’t be more obvious, can you?” she asked.

Miguel spared her a glance, snapping out of his reverie and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Snow Spider. And don’t you deny it—I know a liar when I see one.” She watched Miguel frown, but didn’t bother protesting her claim. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Tell them, you big grump. Y/N deserves to know.”

Before he could reply, Jessica was already hastening away, yelling over her shoulder that she had to go to the bathroom because the damn baby was kicking against her bladder again.

Jealousy was not an emotion Miguel was well acquainted with. Ever since he witnessed an entire universe crumbling away in front of him, he was careful not to get too attached to anything. To anyone.

But he did. He grew attached to Jessica, who was his most trusted friend, always giving him the best advice and always available to lend him a helping hand. Though he’d never admit it, Miguel was also rather fond of Ben and his obnoxious penchant for his dramatic tragedies. And, most obvious of all, he was undoubtedly very close to his best soldier, Lego Peter.

Then there was you.

It infuriated him—the way you’d smile around him, give him the most fleeting of touches, always pleasantly cold, leaving prickly goosebumps in your wake. You would offer him an affectionate nudge and a myriad of teasing compliments that made his stomach want to fold in upon itself. But Miguel tried not to think too much of it: you were a generally kind person, with many of the Spiders in the society taking a certain liking to you. It didn’t go past his notice that you’d caught more than a few romantic eyes. Every time a Peter or a Ben would openly flirt with you, he could feel himself bristling, bile rising within his throat.

Again, Miguel wasn’t used to feeling jealous. He wanted to be the one cooking dinner for you, holding you in his arms, kissing you, touching you—

To his relief, you never paid them much mind, often politely declining with a poorly-forged excuse of having to return to your universe.

It was nearly a year since you’d first met Miguel when you were at Headquarters, holding a babbling Mayday as she crawled all over you. You laughed when she climbed up onto your shoulders, slipping down into your hands with a gleeful coo, blue eyes bright and wide. With gentle hands, you brushed her messy ginger hair away from her face. 

“She doesn’t look like you, huh?” you asked Peter B. Parker. “She must be a carbon copy of her momma.”

“A good thing,” admitted the man beside you, muffling a yawn as he dug the heels of his palms into his sleep-deprived eyes, adorned with dark bags. “Wouldn’t want her taking after her old man, now would I?”

“Why not?” you asked, amusedly watching when May shot out a web from her tiny shooters, swinging away to clumsily scale a nearby wall. “I think you’re very handsome. Trust me, the sleep-deprived look is very trendy right now. In my universe, at least. Nobody can really sleep well with the never-ending cold we got going there.”

Peter gave you a loose smile. “You know what, you’re right. Dad bods are making a comeback. By the way, did I tell you about my coin collection—”

Before Peter could finish what he was saying, your watch beeped noisily, and Ben’s slumped hologram appeared over your wrist. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. You had to hold your tongue not to retort that he was the one that’d called you. “I need you to come comfort me and hold onto my strong, muscular arms as I tell you about my gruesome past.” The pale image of Ben flickered as he flexed his biceps. 

You rolled your eyes to the side. Ben had become a close friend during your time with the Spider Society, nearly inseparable after you’d saved his life from an Electro anomaly once. That man was quite the emotional one, he was.

“I’ll be there, just give me a minute.” 

“Bring me one of those Spider-burgers, will you? Extra ketchup and no p—”

You tapped at your watch and his hologram disappeared before he could finish his request. With a mild wince, you glanced at Peter. “You wanna come with me and listen to Ben dramatically mope for an hour? I’ll treat you and May to Spider-burgers, because it looks like I’ll have to stop by there, anyway.”

“I would, I really would, but I gotta put May down for a nap,” he said with a sympathetic slant of his lips. As if on cue, the baby fell back into Peter’s arms, yawning widely. Bouncing her up and down, Peter absent-mindedly remarked, “Make sure Miguel doesn’t catch you being all sweet with Ben. That guy is crazy about you. Hah, he’d lose his marbles!” 

You blinked.

“What?”

Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.

“What?” he parroted.

“No, uh, what did you say, about Miguel being…”

“Nothing! Huh? I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did. I heard you. Peter, what are you saying? Miguel is—?” 

Sheepish, Peter scratched the back of his head. “Oh, wow, would you look at the time!” Peter pulled down the sleeve of his pink bathrobe to mimic looking at the watch. He hastily stepped away. “I have to go. I didn’t say anything. Bye! I’d love a Spider-burger with you another time! Bye! See you later!”

You watched in bewilderment when the older man swung away with his baby in his hands, muttering out a long string of panicked curses under his breath.

Miguel was crazy about you?

After a few seconds of deliberating your next move, you shot out a web and swung away, heading to Miguel’s private office, where you knew he would be buried in figuring out a solution to the influx of new anomalies. Surely Ben would be alright with you showing up a bit late (he wouldn’t, but you had more pressing matters at hand).

“Hey, Miguel,” you greeted with a soft voice, slipping inside after knocking twice. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

The man offered you a warm grin. “Never a bad time with you. What’s going on?”

“Well, I just… I had a rather interesting talk with Peter B,” you started, striding across the office until you stood just in front of his desk, with Miguel on the other side.

He tilted his head. “Was it about that collection of coins he lost to an anomaly? He needs to get over that.”

“I—what? The poor guy lost his coin collection? He’d been working on that for years!” Shaking your head, you mindfully got back on track. “Well, no, that’s not what we talked about.”

Dark eyes narrowing, Miguel crossed his arms, deadpanning, “What did he tell you?”

There was a rather mischievous hue to your expression that Miguel misliked. Slow and deliberate, you stepped around the desk, fingers dragging along the smooth top. You stood so close to him that your chest was only a hair’s breadth from his—if he were to take too deep a breath, the two of you would be touching by now.

“Hm… Peter accidentally let slip that you have feelings for me. Is that true, Miguel?” The way his name rolled off your tongue nearly made him choke as his brain short-circuited. 

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, echoing the exact thing he had said to Jess a month ago. 

You studied him, gaze dragging from his stiff face, to his tense stature, and back up again. It may have been a trick of light, but Miguel could swear he saw your eyes linger on his lips. 

With a hum, you leaned even closer. He could hear your heart thrumming now, a steady, strong beat—which completely juxtaposed against his own rapid pulse, drumming loud within his ears. Up this close, he could smell your perfume, see the flecks of color within your pretty eyes, notice the way your lips quirked up with a sweet smile. Even whilst teasing him, you made sure that you weren’t overstepping any bounds, giving him ample time to step away if need be.

“Oh,” you said, feigning confusion. Your hand rested upon his clavicle, nails lightly dragging down his neck. A sharp thrill struck down Miguel’s spine at the sensation. You were barely touching him, for God’s sake! “So you wouldn’t mind if I… go ask Ben out for dinner?”

A beat of silence. Miguel’s brows knitted together.

The next words were susurrated as you dipped forward to nudge your nose along his neck, pressing a cold whisper of a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “Or if I… I don’t know… if I invite him to stay at my place for the night?” 

Of course, there was no real weight to your words. Ben was simply a good friend, but damn if you didn’t enjoy the way Miguel’s eyes twitched.

Finally snapping, a low growl rumbled within his chest, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You were cold to the touch, the ice to his fire, as his fingers curled over your back, shoving you up against the wall behind his desk. As if on instinct, your hands came to clutch at his broad shoulders.

You smiled, wide and triumphant. You’d finally broke him. 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gruffed, staring deep into your eyes to make sure you were alright with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. From your gleeful expression, Miguel could see that you were just the opposite. 

“Oka—mmph!” 

His lips slanted over yours, warm and rough, yet cold and soft at the same time. It was a kiss of starkly juxtaposing contrasts, heavy with months and months of unspoken yearning. His large nose brushed against your cheek, angling his face to kiss you harder—deeper. 

When one of your hands slithered up the back of his neck to tug at the roots of his dark hair, he sighed against your mouth, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead over yours.

“He was right,” said Miguel.

“Who was?”

“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth, nudging your nose against his sharp cheekbone. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.” He surged forward to kiss you again, relishing in the way you just about melted into his touch. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I really like you, too.”

At your admission, Miguel beamed, loose and hesitant. “You still planning on asking Ben out to dinner and having him stay over at your place, then?”

You tapped a finger onto your chin, pretending to have a good, long think about it. “Give me a good reason to stay, and I won’t.” At Miguel’s slightly crestfallen expression, you patted his cheek, quick to say, “God, Miguel, I was just kidding. Ben and I are good friends. You and I, however… I wouldn’t exactly call you a friend—”

His lips met yours again, stealing the rest of your words from you. 

When you smiled into the kiss, he smiled back. It was a bit too early for love, sure, but Miguel already knew he was in too deep to back out.

He was falling in love with you. 

The thought terrified him to no end, but he merely kissed you harder, and clutched you all the closer to him.

[unluckiestmember]

Hey so I LOVED your X-Men x sweetheart reader and I was wondering if you could do a similar head cannon of X-Men x kind reader but their reaction to you being good with kids. I just feel like they would have various opinions or feeling if they saw you interacting with a child.

Coming right up!

X-Men '97 X Compassionate! Reader

Characters: Nathan Summers/Cable, Scott Summers/Cyclops, Jean Gray, Remy LeBeau/Gambit, Rogue, Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler, Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto, Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch, Pietro Maximoff/Quicksilver, Morph, Logan/Wolverine and Jubilee.

Warning: None. SFW.

A/N: So how did you guys feel about Deadpool and Wolverine?

Cable

“Well would you look at that! Seems someone knows how to get along with the kiddies… Oh don’t mind me, keep playing.”

Cable isn’t used to hanging out with children or being around them due to his workload, but he does enjoy the presence of kids that look up to him. He hasn’t really thought about wanting kids because of his fear that the disaster of a future he’s from would be too harsh for a child to be raised, let alone he is scared that something will happen to them.

However, when he sees you being so compassionate with children, it makes him reconsider a little bit! The sight of you and the kids at the local shelter on his base laughing and playing together makes his heart sour. Whenever he finds himself down in the dumps and needs a good boost or reminder of what he’s fighting for, he will just watch you and the children happily running around and realize why he’s the famous freedom fighter the young ones and yourself admire.

Cyclops

“Huh, you’re a natural at this! Makes me wonder how things would be when you become a parent of your own kid.”

When he sees you taking care of children on and off missions, Scott can’t help but stand and watch you with the biggest smile tugged on his lips. The sight of you all happily living your lives without a care in the world makes him remember the civilians he is fighting for. And more importantly, it makes him think of giving the family thing another shot!

Can you blame him? The way you are with children makes him daydream a perfect life away from the mansion raising a family together and properly being there for your child. Though there is hesitance to it all due to the result of Nathan and his last relationship, if you assure him, then he will definitely try to be a father again. Because with you by his side, can he really fail again?

Jean Gray

“Aww! Are you playing nice? Mind if I join in? I’m sure they would love to see my powers in action.”

Jean has thought of having a family with you when everything is settled down. So before she can have this ideal world of raising a kid with the love of her life, she can get a peek into a potential future in the brief moments of you caring for children, mutant or human. Whenever she sees you taking care of a child, usually during a mission, she will assist you in any way and naturally take up a mother role she’s used to having around the mansion.

The team can always find you two trying to make sad or distraught children on missions turn their frowns upside down with some powers or just speaking to them and making sure they are heard. You and Jean are definitely the go to for young ones, and if you both around children confirms anything, it’s that you two would be great parents someday.

Gambit

“Look at you all go! Mind if Gambit takes a stab at this, mon amour? I’m sure I can win their hearts. I won yours, didn’t I?”

Gambit is used to dealing with the younger folk of the world because of his time around them back home. So when he’s around children, he can easily adapt to them by playing some mindlessly fun games, pulling off tricks with his cards or telling some jokes. That’s not surprising though. What’s really surprising is him finding out you’re a pro when it comes to little kiddies!

When he found out you were a natural, he was beyond impressed by you and even let his mind wonder on a more intimate possible future down the line for the both of you. Around children, he’ll have you both as a package deal with you as the caring caretaker and him as the funny guy who will not hesitate to flirt and send signals your way in front of the kids. With how much he’s flirted with you, the kids always mistake you two for a married couple! A married couple… That doesn’t sound half bad.

Rogue

“You got these kids all excited, running and screaming like a bunch of baby banshees! You’re a natural, babe!”

Rogue wasn’t a big kid person on missions. She simply gets the job done and if there are children that need assistance she leaves it to someone who can be more intimate without fearing they’ll hurt them. She stayed this way until you showed off innocently how well you were with younger civilians.

At first when the mission called for dealing with kids, Rogue watched you from the sideline in silent awe of your tender love and care for children that were distraught or needed a distraction. Yet with time, simply watching you gave her the courage to join in and actually help out by giving out free rides on her back or showing off her immense strength. Together you two are a happy fun couple kids love to be around as much as Rogue just loves being around you. Now whenever there’s a mission with the young ones, she’s more than excited to tag along with you and live in the moment.

Nightcrawler

“May I cut in? I can play a mean game of tag!… Really?! Then round up the kiddies because I’m it!”

Because of Genosha, Nightcralwer is just as good with children as you are! He enjoys his time with the little ones around town or during stakeouts because of how accepting they are of him and how much their laughter fills his heart with joy. Now mix your own laughter in because of your handling with them and the blue devil was sure he was getting a slice of heaven.

The both of you are so well together and with others that the team delegates you both to taking care of the children on missions and making sure they’re okay. Around you both, the kids can expect a bunch of games to be played and a lot of memories to be made. Whenever a mission calls for babysitting, Nightcrawler knows exactly who to call on to assist him in having a little bit of fun on the job!

Magneto

“The future of mutants is bright if you’re around to bring such laughter and happiness.”

Though Erik has children of his own, he’s pretty subpar for a caretaker let alone a babysitter of mutant children. He tries his best of course, but the lack of fatherhood he was allowed made him a bit rough around the edges. Luckily he can depend on you to pick up where he lacks and he thanks you deeply for that.

Everytime he takes a moment to look at you with kids just minding your own business and being giddy without a care in the world, it makes him wonder if he’d be open to trying to raise a family once again. He knows with age and with the weight on his shoulders, it may be harder for him. But if you’re by his side, he wouldn’t mind giving it another try and stepping up to the plate to be a better father than he ever was for Wanda and Pietro.

Morph

“Hey, if the kids want to see a few tricks, send them my way, alright? I can throw them for a loop and think there’s two yous running around!”

Morph is decent with children, but they mainly leave that kind of work to you. When it comes to the more emotional attachment, they need a bit of work on that, but if you’re talking tricks and jokes? Then they are the right person to work with on missions dealing with kids!

They use your connection with children to playfully throw you for a loop by shapeshifting into someone and tricking you a lot just to get some laughter in the air. Most of the time he succeeds but there have been a few times where both of you just team up in some funny interactions that are bound to leave the children happy in your presence. Honestly, Morph wouldn’t care so much, but since you’re around? They don’t know- You just bring out that side of them! And they kind of love it!

Wolverine

“Of course you’d be good with the children, what did I expect?… Don’t mind me, I’m just keeping watch. Have fun.”

Children and Logan don’t mix that well. He just finds it annoying to babysit when he already does that with the teenagers at the mansion. Add that with some crying, whining and begging and he becomes pretty livid. Which is why he doesn’t like missions that deal with kids. That is, unless you’re there to help him out.

He finds your handling of children to not only be a big help for him but also a nice change of pace. It’s adorable seeing how kids easily gravitate towards you and how you let them do whatever they want. Whenever they have you pinned down in a game or surrounded, Logan can’t help but laugh at the cute little ambush before he breaks everything up. He doesn’t like kids and he still can’t stand them. But you make them more bearable, so there’s always that!

Jubilee

“Hey, babe! Send the kids over here- I’m gonna do a mad fireworks show for them!”

Jubilee is, surprisingly enough, really good with kids! She’s a lot like a cool aunt to your nurturing parent bit! She thinks it’s cute that you’re good with children and even compliments you around them when she’s not busy with other kids on a mission. The firecracker can rely on you to assist her or even stop her from making whacky moves that could get some children hurt out of pure excitement.

It’s not hard for everyone to know you two are a couple because of how much she calls you by pet names or makes fireworks that send signals to you if not make some look like you. It’s awfully sweet of her and it makes you comment that not only is she a great girlfriend, but she’d also make a great mom. Though, it’s highly recommended to hold that because if Jubilee hears you speak of motherhood, she’ll cringe at the thought. She likes kids, don’t get her wrong! But she could never be a mom!

If you got any requests for X-Men '97 or Arcane, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Marvel

how to return home by JBS_Forever

Flash Thompson is a good person, but not a great one, so when Peter Parker accidentally gets drunk at his house party, all he can do is say, “Shit.”

Or: the one where Flash is just trying to be a decent person and get a drunk Peter home. Peter, on the other hand, has different plans.

scandal of the century by joshriku

The headline reads:

STEAMY SEX TAPE BETWEEN MAGNETO AND PROFESSOR X LEAKED!

“All right,” Charles says. “I wouldn’t call it steamy, you know, that’s an exaggeration.”

“That is seriously not the point, Professor,” Jean answers.

(A sex tape is leaked. PR crisis ensues).

DC

two vigilantes carry a cake across gotham by JBS_Forever

Jason's had a nagging suspicion that Bruce keeps stalker-esque levels of tabs on all the places he’s lived, so when Tim Drake shows up at his apartment door, it takes only a half second for Jason to level his gun directly at Tim's stupid face and to say, bored, “Give me one reason not to shoot you.”

Honestly, he knew Bruce had a problem, but sending a bat to his doorstep? This is just ridiculous.

Or: in a scheming attempt to make them bond, Bruce forces Jason and Tim on what should be a simple quest: retrieve Alfred’s birthday cake from across town and make it back before the party.

But this is Gotham. And nothing is ever simple in Gotham.

racing on the thunder by merils

Fortunately or unfortunately, Clark Kent is kind of used to getting phone calls about his too-curious-for-her-own-good wife being held hostage somewhere. Superman usually handles it.

Conner Kent gets a phone call meant for Clark Kent, who is Superman, who is currently in space. Uh.... Have no fear, Superboy is here!

What could possibly go wrong?

Original Works

Halfway Home for Wayward Mages by hoebiwan

Part 24 of mage in a wolf pack (This whole series kills me)

He wouldn’t mind it if Lada collared him, if Khalida or Dimitri collared him, because none of them have forced him to hurt anyone, whether human or wolf. They mostly just want him to—

Live, Jaime. Live.

In which the wolves rescue Jaime, but he doesn't realize he's free.

the sin eater by whitegeraniums (puertoricansuperman)

Part 25 of mage in a wolf pack

Lada, alpha of the Hearthstone wolf pack, finds herself in possession of a captured, broken werewolf hunter.

ATLA

Keeping Ones Head Down by ApoplecticAtPeace

Part 3 of May You be Noticed by The Fire Lord

Bao lost his ability to walk when he was 19. Despite the prejudice of many Fire Nation citizens, he got a job as an accountant in the Royal palace, in the Department of Education. After 11 years of working quietly, keeping his head down and allowing his work to be claimed by others, he expected nothing to change when Fire Lord Zuko took the throne. He didn't expect the entire department to be reformed under the new Minister Shu-Lin, and Bao's overlooked position with it.

Clone Wars

Something in the heart beat like a drum by CombatBootsandDreams

Most Jedi only have to take three formal sexual education classes. Obi-Wan, in all their blessed biology has to take five.

Or: Obi-Wan growing up in a galaxy where Stewjoni are Succubi. This changes very little--but it does make certain things a hell of lot more interesting.

A Stewjoni are succubus au that has way less to do with sex, & is more about logistics, medical problems, and cuddling. Featuring Qui-Gon being an excellent master, codywan, aromantic Quinlan Vos, Obi-Wan using he/they/she pronouns, and plenty of costume changes.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Hey I absolutely love your fics and I was wondering if you could write a fic about Erik/magneto x reader and she has powers like pitch black but can’t control them and was tortured bc of them before the x men found her

I’ve had this idea for absolutely ages and would love to see how you write it :>

Comfort in the Darkness

The halls of Xavier’s mansion were quiet at night, the usual bustle of mutant life reduced to the soft hum of the building’s systems and the occasional creak of the ancient wood. Most of the residents were asleep, lost in dreams or, in some cases, nightmares. But you were wide awake.

Sleep had become a rare commodity since you had been rescued. Every time you closed your eyes, the memories came rushing back—dark, twisted things that made your stomach churn and your chest tighten. You had tried everything: reading, listening to music, even meditating as Jean had suggested, but nothing could chase away the shadows that haunted you.

Tonight, you had given up on the idea of sleep entirely. Wrapped in your blanket, you wandered through the mansion, hoping the familiar surroundings might bring some comfort. Eventually, you found yourself in the kitchen, your safe haven during sleepless nights.

The soft glow of the refrigerator light was oddly reassuring as you searched for something to take your mind off things. Your eyes landed on a tub of ice cream tucked away in the freezer. Ice cream had always been your guilty pleasure, a small comfort in a world that often seemed overwhelming.

You grabbed a spoon from the drawer and settled down at the counter, hoping the cool, sweet treat might soothe the anxiety gnawing at your insides. But even as you ate, the shadows within you stirred, the darkness that was part of you, yet something you couldn’t control.

You didn’t hear the door open, too lost in your thoughts to notice the figure that had quietly entered the kitchen.

“You should be asleep,” came a deep, familiar voice, the sound of it low and gentle in the stillness.

Startled, you looked up to see Erik Lehnsherr—Magneto—standing in the doorway. His expression was unreadable, but there was a softness in his eyes that you had come to associate with moments like this, when the world was quiet and it was just the two of you.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Erik didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he walked over to where you were sitting, his presence a calming force in the oppressive darkness of your thoughts. He glanced at the ice cream and the spoon in your hand, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“You’re not alone in that,” he murmured, pulling out a chair and sitting down beside you. “Many of us here have trouble finding peace at night.”

You nodded, knowing he was right. You had seen the signs in others—the haunted looks, the way some of them carried themselves as if they were constantly waiting for the next fight. The mansion was a sanctuary, but it couldn’t erase the past.

Erik’s gaze fell to the spoon in your hand, and with a small, almost imperceptible motion, he used his powers. The metal of the spoon shifted, reshaping itself with a quiet creak. When you looked down, the spoon was no longer a simple utensil—it had transformed into a delicate metal flower, its petals smooth and cool to the touch.

You stared at the flower, surprised by the gesture. “For me?” you asked, looking up at him.

Erik’s expression softened, his eyes meeting yours. “Yes,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “A small gift, to remind you that there is beauty in your power, even when it feels uncontrollable.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them back, focusing on the flower instead. It was a reminder that even the most chaotic forces could be shaped into something beautiful, something meaningful. And Erik, more than anyone, understood that struggle.

“Thank you,” you whispered, clutching the flower to your chest as if it were a lifeline.

Erik reached out, his hand gently covering yours. The touch was warm, grounding you in the present. “You’ve been through more than anyone should have to endure,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with sadness. “But you are not alone anymore. You have people here who care about you, who will help you find control.”

His words wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing the frayed edges of your nerves. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear that, to be reminded that you were safe now, that you weren’t fighting this battle by yourself anymore.

As you sat there, the ice cream forgotten, Erik began to speak in his native language—German. His voice was low and melodic, the unfamiliar words flowing like a lullaby. You didn’t understand what he was saying, but it didn’t matter. The sound of his voice was enough, comforting and steady, a beacon in the dark.

The tension in your body slowly began to ease, the weight of exhaustion finally catching up with you. You leaned against Erik, your eyes growing heavy as the soothing rhythm of his voice lulled you closer to sleep.

Before long, you couldn’t fight it anymore. You drifted off, your head resting on Erik’s shoulder, the metal flower still clutched in your hand.

Erik noticed the moment your breathing evened out, your body going limp against his. He fell silent, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. For a long moment, he just sat there, letting you sleep against him, the rise and fall of your chest a small sign of peace after so much turmoil.

Carefully, so as not to wake you, Erik slipped one arm under your legs and the other around your back. With ease, he lifted you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. You stirred slightly, but didn’t wake, your face buried against his shoulder.

Erik carried you through the quiet halls of the mansion, his footsteps soft against the polished floors. When he reached your room, he nudged the door open with a gentle push of his power, stepping inside and making his way to your bed.

He laid you down gently, tucking the blankets around you with surprising tenderness. For a moment, he just stood there, watching you sleep, a faint smile on his lips. You looked so peaceful, so much younger when you weren’t burdened by the weight of your powers and your past.

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch as light as a feather. “Schlaf gut,” he murmured in German, the words a soft wish for a peaceful night’s rest.

With one last look at you, Erik turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He would stay close tonight, just in case you needed him. You were safe now, and he intended to keep it that way.

[cera-writes]

"Ma chère, you are mine." 🃏

Part Three

Pairing: Remy "Gambit" Lebeau x F!Reader Tags: slow burn, angst, jealousy, mentions of death Remy never thought there'd be someone else besides Rogue who'd just waltz into his life, but there you were.

The world splintered into a cacophony of violence. Emerald energy, a malevolent serpent uncoiling across the Genoshan sky, lashed out with indiscriminate fury. Buildings crumpled like sandcastles under a child's fist, their infrastructure spilling forth in a grotesque display of shattered brick and twisted metal. Remy, with a snarl that mirrored the savagery unfolding around you, shoved you roughly to the ground, his body a meat shield against the onslaught.

The impact with the ravaged earth sent a jolt of searing pain through your body. A high-pitched whine filled your ears, a relentless wail that threatened to drown out the world. When the world finally refocused, its edges blurry and tinged with red, you found yourself staring into the smoldering ruins of what was once Genosha.

Remy lay beside you, groaning as he pushed himself up on one elbow. Dust and grime painted his face, a mask of grim determination etched beneath the grime.

"You alright, cher?" His voice, rough with concern, cut through the ringing in your ears.

"I'm fine," you rasped, pushing yourself up with a grimace. "But we need to find the others!"

Your gaze swept across the scene, a desolate wasteland where once stood a haven for mutants. Bodies, like fallen marionettes, littered the ashen landscape – stark reminders of the Sentinel's ruthless efficiency. A strangled cry escaped your lips, a prayer whispered into the acrid smoke-choked air. "Oh gods..."

There was no time for lamentations. Remy, ever the pragmatist, grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the meager cover offered by a half-collapsed building. As you stumbled through the debris, your eyes scanned the devastated landscape for any signs of life.

A flicker of movement – Rogue, her green eyes narrowed in fierce concentration, stood beside Magneto, who scowled at the wreckage with an almost inhuman intensity. Relief, a fragile butterfly taking flight in your chest, was swiftly extinguished by a cold dread that coiled around your heart.

"No...no, no! Kurt!" You tore free of Remy's grasp and sprinted towards the crumpled figure lying in the debris. Kneeling beside him, your hands shaking, you cradled his head in your lap. Blood, a crimson stain blossoming across his blue fur, marred his pale face. He lay unmoving, his chest rising and falling with a shallow rasp.

"Rogue!" Remy's voice, sharp with urgency, cut through the haze of terror that threatened to consume you. You looked up to see him kneeling beside you, his face etched with concern as he checked Kurt's pulse.

"He alive! So are you," Remy announced, his voice laced with relief. A wan smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he met Rogue's gaze.

The choked sob that escaped your lips caught in your throat. Tears, hot and stinging, streamed down your face. Relief, a tidal wave threatening to pull you under, washed over you. You squeezed Kurt's hand, murmuring a desperate plea for him to hold on. "Good," you choked out, your voice thick with emotion. "You can't die on me yet, you hear?"

The grim tableau before them hung heavy in the air, a macabre tapestry woven from shattered concrete and lifeless flesh. Magneto joined them, his voice a gravelly rasp cutting through the stunned silence.

"Gambit, how many?"

Gambit, his usual carefree swagger replaced by a haunted solemnity, shook his head, the movement conveying the immensity of the devastation better than words. "Too many...so many," he muttered, his voice thick with a grief that mirrored the ashen wasteland that stretched before them. "Some vile Godzilla. You go at it, you wind up dead. Can't even dent it. We tryin' to evacuate folks now, but the Morlocks… they stuck in the bay. Right under it's belly and there's no way to get to em'."

A cold dread coiled around your spine, its icy tendrils tightening with each passing moment. "Remy's right," you confirmed, your voice a mere whisper against the cacophony of devastation still echoing around you. "This… this is beyond anything we've ever faced before."

Magneto, his face a mask of thunderous fury, stood with his head bowed, lost in a war council of one against the smoldering ruins. Finally, he raised his head, his steely gaze meeting yours. "A promise was made," he rumbled, his voice heavy with a barely concealed tremor of emotion.

You nodded in grim agreement, a shiver racking your body despite the oppressive heat radiating from the smoldering wreckage. "We have to stop this, Magneto," you stated, your voice firm despite the fear threatening to bubble up.

"Eclipse is right," Gambit concurred, his eyes landing on a lone motorcycle half-buried in debris, its chrome glimmering defiantly against the ashen landscape. It might not be much, but it was a lifeline in the storm. Just enough to get them where they needed to be, fast.

Rogue was about to place a gentle hand on your shoulder, but thought better of it. Instead she offered words, a grounding force amidst the swirling chaos. "Then let's do what we X-Men do best, sugah," she said, her voice laced with a steely resolve. "Nightcrawler wouldn't want us sittin' here mournin'. He'd want us fightin', protectin' those who can't protect themselves."

With a reverence born of desperation, you lowered Nightcrawler onto a scrap of relatively undamaged concrete. A silent promise hung heavy in the air, a vow to see him again, hopefully under skies that weren't choked with the acrid tang of destruction. You had to. All of you had to. This wasn't just about survival; it was about clinging to the fragile thread of hope that remained for the mutants trapped beneath the metallic behemoth.

Striding towards the lone motorcycle, you felt a surge of renewed determination. The roar of the engine, a guttural growl that echoed off the shattered buildings, was a battle cry, a call to action. Joining Remy on the steel stallion, you wrapped your arms around his waist, a silent anchor in the impending storm.

Beside you, Rogue was ready to fight, flying high through the smoky air beside you. A grim exchange of glances solidified the unspoken plan. Magneto, his voice a rasp, spoke, his words carving through the chaos.

"I will draw its fire away from the gardens," he commanded, his gaze unwavering. "Rogue, clear a path for Gambit and Eclipse to reach the Morlocks. Save as many as you can."

A flicker of admiration ignited in your chest, a brief respite in the maelstrom of emotions. Magneto, the master of metal, would become a lightning rod, drawing the Sentinel's wrath and diverting its destructive energy. It was a desperate gamble, but one he was willing to take.

"Hang on tight, cher!" Remy's voice was a shout over the engine's roar as he revved the motorcycle to life. With a surge of power, they shot forward, a precarious bullet weaving through the hail of emerald blasts.

You channeled the shadows, a tapestry of darkness swirling around the three of you, forming a shield against the Sentinel's onslaught. It was a delicate dance, a constant push and pull against the relentless energy.

"Never much cared for roulette," Remy shouted above the din, his voice laced with a sardonic humor that belied the seriousness of the situation. Each dodged blast, each fleeting moment of reprieve, was a victory won in a game with impossible odds. You knew it wouldn't last forever, but for now, it was enough. They had to reach the Morlocks, had to offer them a sliver of hope in this crucible of despair.

A rebellious glint sparked in Rogue's eyes. "Then how bout we spice up these rules?" she quipped, her flight maintaining a steady pace alongside the motorcycle.

You smirked, one hand gripping Remy's waist for dear life while the other channeled shadows. The shield pulsed around you three, a tangible darkness that defied the emerald onslaught.

Suddenly, Sentinels loomed ahead, their metallic forms blocking the path. With a guttural roar, Remy pushed the engine to its limit, the motorcycle whining in protest as he executed a death-defying drift.

You narrowed your eyes, focusing your energy away from the shield and towards the lead Sentinel. It was a hulking monstrosity, hell-bent on ending your desperate mission. A surge of power coursed through you, manipulating the shadows into tendrils of inky darkness. They latched onto the Sentinel's head, momentarily obscuring its vision.

"Let's shuffle the deck, chere!" Remy yelled, a wild grin splitting his face. With lightning-fast reflexes, he charged his playing cards with a surge of kinetic energy. They shot through the air, imbued with raw power, and whipped into the Sentinel's head.

The impact was a thunderous roar. Metal shrieked as the Sentinel's head detached from its body, the emerald blasts it had been firing careening wildly into other Sentinels. A chain reaction erupted, triggering explosions that showered the landscape with molten debris.

"Three down, mon ami!" You crowed, a wide grin splitting your face. "But leave a few targets for the rest us, okay?"

Gambit chuckled, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the fight. He wrenched the motorcycle's handlebars, veering off into another direction as the echoes of the explosions faded behind them.

But their precarious victory was short-lived. A colossal Sentinel, dwarfing its brethren in size and ferocity, came hurtling through a building in a desperate bid to cut them off. Rogue, a whirlwind of fury and concentration, was fending off one of them on her own.

A roundhouse kick, a ballet of raw power and focused fury, connected with the Sentinel's chest cavity. The impact resonated through the air, a metallic clang that echoed through the smoke and debris. The machine itself didn't stand a chance. Rogue's enhanced strength cleaved through it like a hot knife through butter, transforming the Sentinel into a shower of sparking fragments and molten slag that rained down upon the ravaged cityscape.

In the rearview mirror, you watched as the fire and smoke of the Sentinel's demise dissipated into the acrid air. Relief flickered in your chest, a fleeting ember in the inferno of destruction that surrounded them. Rogue rejoined their formation, a whirlwind of emerald energy coalescing beside you.

"Badass!" you shouted over the engine's roar, a silent nod of approval telegraphed through the urgency of the moment. There was no denying it, Rogue was a force of nature, a badass sculpted from pure determination and raw power.

But even the sweetest victories were fleeting in this war of attrition. Each Sentinel they felled seemed to be replaced by another, a relentless metallic hydra rising from the ashes of its fallen brethren. Yet, you pressed on, driven by a desperate hope and the dwindling sliver of time before they reached the Morlocks.

The tunnel entrance loomed ahead, a dark maw in the concrete sprawl. Just as you were about to reach it, a colossal Sentinel, a leviathan dwarfing its brethren, materialized from a side street, blocking their path with menacing intent.

"Ready, cher?" Remy's voice cut through the din, a question punctuated by a steely crimson glint in his eyes. You met his gaze, a silent understanding passing between you. A curt nod was all the confirmation he needed.

With a screech of tortured metal, Remy slammed the motorcycle through the shattered window of a nearby building. The sudden change of course was a tactical maneuver, a desperate gamble to gain the upper hand. You and Remy dismounted, back to back, facing the encroaching Sentinel.

Remy whipped out his bo staff, a blur of lethal grace as he parried the Sentinel's initial energy blasts. You channeled your power, weaving the shadows into a thick, inky cloak, obscuring the Sentinel's vision and preventing it from unleashing a devastating blast upon the already-fragile tunnels below. The air crackled with raw energy as the battle raged.

Remy, a whirlwind of movement, landed blow after blow on the behemoth with his staff. Finally, with a flourish that belied the gravity of the situation, he hurled one last charged card directly at the Sentinel's head. The impact triggered a chain reaction, igniting a spectacular explosion that ripped through the metallic monstrosity, leaving only smoldering wreckage in its wake.

"Bonne soiree, mes amis. Now, kindly follow Eclipse and me."

Your outstretched hand met Leech's clammy grasp, a beacon of hope in the choking gloom. Together, a ragged procession of Morlocks tumbled out of the tunnel entrance, faces etched with terror and exhaustion. But before you could savor the brief reprieve, a soul-rending scream tore through the smoke-choked air. A pillar of emerald energy slammed into Magneto, sending him hurtling through the air like a discarded rag doll. His body crumpled with a sickening thud against the mangled wreckage of a car.

A guttural curse ripped from your throat, a stark counterpoint to the symphony of destruction. While your attention had been momentarily diverted, a hulking chunk of debris – a twisted remnant of a building sheared in two – hurtled towards the fleeing Morlocks.

Gambit's reflexes, honed by years of navigating chaos, kicked in with lightning speed. With a flourish that belied the urgency of the moment, he ripped the silk of his blue scarf from around his neck. In a single, fluid motion, he charged it with a surge of kinetic energy. The scarf, imbued with raw power, transformed into a blazing projectile, slamming into the hurtling metal with a deafening boom.

The resulting explosion, a spectacle of incandescent pink, vaporized the debris into a cloud of shimmering particles.

You, meanwhile, fought on a different front. Your hands danced a desperate ballet in the air, weaving shadows into a thick, inky tapestry around you and Remy. You poured every ounce of your will into the shield, praying it would hold against the relentless onslaught. Rogue coalesced beside you, her arrival a much-needed reinforcement.

A chilling mechanical voice boomed from the depths of the Sentinel's metal maw, pronouncements echoing through the shattered cityscape. "Omega-level threat detected," it intoned, its robotic pronouncements devoid of any emotion. Its cyclopean eye, a glowing orb of malevolent green energy, locked onto you and your companions, a death warrant hanging heavy in the air.

"No..." you rasped, your voice strained from exertion. You gritted your teeth, pushing your powers to the limit, desperately trying to maintain the integrity of your shadow shield.

Across the battlefield, Magneto, miraculously still alive, rose shakily to his feet. Anger, a molten inferno, burned in his eyes. He raised his hands, and the wreckage around him pulsed, metallic tendrils snaking towards the Sentinels in a defiant show of force. He, too, would stand his ground, a lone bastion protecting the vulnerable. The stage was set for a final, desperate confrontation.

The clash of energies painted the sky in a grotesque ballet of destruction. Where Magneto stood, resolute and defiant, a shimmering dome of crackling crimson energy deflected the Sentinel's emerald onslaught. It was a titanic struggle – the telekinetic master against the cold, calculating fury of Sentinel technology.

You, wracked with concern for Magneto, pushed your own abilities to the limit. Your shadow shield strained, a flickering ebony curtain attempting to hold back the storm. You channeled just enough raw power to deflect the brunt of the impact away from you and Remy, but not enough to completely isolate the battle raging before you.

Rogue, ever the impulsive force, couldn't bear to witness Magneto face the Sentinel alone. A primal urge to protect flared within her, overriding all sense of caution. With a defiant snarl, she shot towards the emerald death ray, a solitary speck of emerald defiance against the mechanical behemoth.

Remy, his face etched with a mixture of fear and determination, lunged towards Rogue. "No, chere! It's too dangerous!" he roared, his voice swallowed by the cacophony of the battle.

But his warning came too late. A sudden surge of crimson energy erupted from the clash above, a sign that even Magneto's defenses were faltering. The resulting shockwave slammed into you with the force of a freight train. You, Remy, and Rogue were sent sprawling backwards. Your shadow shield, overwhelmed by the sheer force of the impact, disintegrated into wisps of darkness.

The three of you found yourselves pinned. The impact had caused you, Rogue, and Remy to become pinned beneath a large piece of warped metal. You were trapped, cocooned in a makeshift cage of debris, mere feet away from the epic clash unfolding beyond the barrier.

You could hear Rogue's frustrated screams, the Sentinel's monstrous pronouncements, and the clang of Magneto's valiant defense, but you were helpless to intervene. Panic gnawed at the edges of your resolve, but a stronger emotion burned bright - the desperate need to find a way out, to rejoin the fight. You were trapped, but you wouldn't be broken.

The detonation echoed through the shattered cityscape, a thunderous knell that shattered your fragile shield. Inky tendrils of darkness dissipated into the smoke.

A primal scream ripped from Rogue's throat. It wasn't a battle cry, but a torrent of raw emotion – a desperate plea laced with anger and a flicker of something resembling fear. "Don't you dare, Erik!" she roared, her voice cracking with the strain of witnessing him teetering on the precipice. "You hear me?!"

"He's trying to protect us, Rogue!" he shouted above the din, his voice a beacon of reason amidst the chaos. You watched, heart clenching in your chest, as the battle lines shifted. Magneto, his face a mask of resolute determination, wasn't fighting for dominance; he was fighting for a sliver of time, a desperate gamble to shield you and the Morlocks from the Sentinel's relentless assault.

A metallic groan sliced through the air as Magneto exerted his telekinetic prowess to the limit. The twisted wreckage around you pulsed once more, the mangled metal coiling and twisting into a grotesque, protective cocoon. This wasn't a cage – it was a desperate shield, a last-ditch effort to buy you precious moments. You could feel the strain on him, the telekinetic exertion echoing in the way his features contorted in concentration.

And behind the flimsy barrier you were forced behind, the Sentinel loomed, a mechanical monstrosity bristling with malevolent energy. The air crackled with anticipation, the inevitable doom hanging heavy in the air. You could only watch in horror as the Sentinel, unfazed by Magneto's valiant defense, continued to barrage the shield. There was no escape, no recourse.

You were trapped, forced to witness the battle through the warped metal bars of your makeshift cage, a helpless spectator in a life-or-death struggle.

The pronouncement echoed through the ravaged cityscape, a metallic monotone devoid of any semblance of triumph. "Omega threat eliminated." The words hung in the air, a chilling epitaph for the valiant stand Magneto had taken.

You stared, your voice a mere rasp escaping your lips. "No...oh my god," the words tumbled out, barely a whisper against the symphony of destruction that roared around you. It was as if the world itself had been plunged into an abyss of despair.

But within that despair, a flicker of primal rage ignited in Rogue's emerald eyes. Grief, raw and unbridled, morphed into a terrifying fury. With a strength that seemed to defy physics, she ripped apart the metallic cocoon that had served as your temporary prison. The mangled metal groaned in protest as it yielded to her touch, showering you with debris.

You and Remy scrambled to your feet, your gaze falling upon Rogue. Her form, a whirlwind of primal raw energy, streaked across the battlefield towards the colossal Sentinel. 

A desperate cry escaped your throat. "She's gonna get herself killed!" The raw terror in your voice resonated with Remy, his face mirroring your own growing panic.

He didn't hesitate. In a blur of motion, he launched himself onto a nearby motorcycle, a battered relic amidst the wreckage. The roar of the engine masked the fear that gnawed at him. He sped towards Rogue, desperate to intercept her suicidal charge. He ignited the bike in kinetic energy, sending it flying toward the sentinel and saving Rogue in the process. 

The air itself crackled with anticipation as the Sentinel, its victory seemingly assured, prepared to unleash another earth-shattering blast. A beam of emerald energy, the largest and most destructive you'd ever witnessed, beamed within its metallic eyes, threatening to annihilate the last vestiges of life on Genosha.

Your eyes darted back and forth, taking in the scene with a horrifying clarity. You looked back at your friends.

 You couldn't let them die. This wasn't an option. With a glance back at the imminent threat, a resolute determination hardened your gaze. You knew what you had to do.

"Hey Rogue," you called out, your voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor in your heart. You turned to face her, forcing a smile onto your face despite the tears that welled up in your eyes. You wanted to etch this image of her – beautiful, strong, defiant – into your memory. Then there was Remy. You're best friend. The one person who had your heart forever. 

A single tear escaped, tracing a glistening path down your cheek. You had found love in this fractured world, and now, you were ready to give it all up to save them.

"Take care of Remy." 

The words hung in the air, a stark counterpoint to the cacophony of devastation. You looked at Rogue, her emerald eyes blazing with a grief that threatened to consume her. This wasn't her fight anymore, not if you had anything to say about it. You couldn't risk looking at Remy one last time in fear that you wouldn't be able to go through with this. You turn a heel and looked up towards the hazy smoke filled sky. 

With a resolute nod, you rose. It wasn't a physical movement; you willed yourself upwards, defying gravity with a surge of pure, unadulterated power. Your body became a mote of light, ascending towards sun. It was partially obscured by the Sentinel's monstrous shadow, but it held the key to your desperate gamble.

Your mind became a crucible, a furnace where your mutant abilities burned at their most intense. You channeled every memory of a total eclipse, every flicker of darkness that had ever devoured the sun's brilliance. You needed more than just darkness, though. You needed a celestial eclipse, a cosmic puppet master pulling the strings of the solar system.

The effort was Herculean, a battle waged on a universal scale. You could feel your very essence straining, the potential for oblivion a mere hair's breadth away. But the thought of your friends, their faces etched in your mind, spurred you on. You wouldn't let them die. Not today.

As you neared the sun, its corona, a fiery halo, blazed with an intensity that threatened to immolate you. But you pressed on, driven by an unwavering determination. You were a cosmic moth drawn to the flame, but instead of destruction, you sought a metamorphosis, a transformation that would turn the tide of battle.

Your body, now a conduit for celestial energy, reached a critical point. With a cry that echoed through the shattered city, not as sound, but as a ripple of pure willpower, you unleashed the culmination of your efforts. A shadow, vast and obsidian-hued, erupted from you, engulfing the sun. The once-shining orb receded completely, swallowed by a darkness born not of the moon, but of your desperate will.

The Sentinel, its emerald death ray poised to deliver its final, apocalyptic blow, faltered. Its mechanical systems sputtered in the sudden absence of its power source. A wave of unnatural darkness blanketed the battlefield, turning the day into a spectral twilight. The battle was far from over, but for now, you had rewritten the rules of the game, drawing power from the heavens themselves to tip the scales in favor of humanity.

The strain was immense, a war waged not just on the battlefield but within your own essence. The air crackled with raw power, a testament to the titanic struggle being waged. Visions flickered at the edges of your consciousness – your friends' faces, etched with worry and determination, a stark reminder of what you were fighting for. You wouldn't let them down. Not today.

The shadows that now pulsed through your body, tendrils of darkness imbued with the power of a celestial event, surged outwards. They lashed out at the Sentinel, a tidal wave of midnight propelled by your unwavering will. You roared, a primal sound that escaped your hoarse throat, "Go to hell!"

The shadows connected. The deafening hum of the Sentinel's weapon died with a whimper, replaced by an eerie silence. For a heartbeat, the battlefield held its breath. Then, with a sickening groan of metal, the Sentinel began to disintegrate. The shadows devoured it, consuming the mechanical monstrosity whole until nothing remained but a smoldering pile of scrap.

As the last remnants of the Sentinel crumbled, you felt the darkness within you begin to recede. It was like a tide pulling back, leaving you drained and adrift. Your vision swam, the familiar faces of your friends blurring at the edges. You had achieved the impossible, but the victory came at a steep price. The world faded away, consumed not by the eclipse you had created, but by the exhaustion that finally claimed you.

Your body fell gracefully back down to the earth that was once a lively Genosha. Your body, still the color of faded moonlight, lay motionless on the dirt and ash surrounding you. The last thing you could hear were footsteps dashing madly in your direction. Your eyelids were getting heavier. You didn't know how much time you had left. 

The world dimmed around Remy, the edges blurring with a sickening dread. Eclipse, usually a beautiful, sarcastic ray of light, lay fragile in his arms. Her eyes fluttered open, a spark of confusion battling the haze clouding them.

"Remy?" You whispered, your voice faint.

He choked back a sob, tightening his hold on you. "I'm right here, mon coeur. You're gonna be okay. Gambit's gotchu." Each word scraped against his throat, a desperate promise at odds with the chilling fear that coiled in his gut.

Eclipse blinked slowly, your eyelids heavy. "It hurts, Remy."

He traced a gentle hand over your cheek, his fingers brushing against a damp tear track. "I know, mon amour. But the medics are almost here, you just gotta hang on."

A weak smile played on your lips. "Always the hero, huh?"

Remy forced a smile back, his heart shattering with each shallow breath she took. "Always." He knew better. This wasn't a situation he could fight his way out of. But he wouldn't let you face the darkness alone.

Your grip on his hand tightened, then relaxed. Your eyes fluttered open once more, a question lingering in their depths. "Promise me..." Your voice trailed off, barely a whisper.

Remy pressed his forehead against yours, willing his strength into you. "Anythin', Eclipse. Promise anythin'."

A single tear escaped your eye, tracing a glistening path down your temple. "...don't forget me."

Remy's breath hitched. "Never. Tu me hanteras toujours."

He choked back a sob, burying his face in your neck.  Your hand, cool against his cheek, brushed against him one last time, a whisper of a touch before falling limp.

A/N: I'm adding one more part to this, just to close this fic out. How we feelin'?

[starlight-artbby]

The X-Men 97 finale was everything and more. The way that I screamed because I KNEW! We were gonna get the Death!Gambit Plotline so hopefully more Romy and hopefully it gets adapted well. I can not wait for the X-Men to get reunited.

But I really would love to know where the fuck Storm, Morph, and Wolverine are. Hopefully they are safe.

Now onto the episode. Good thing Bastion died because he doesn't deserve any kind of redemption. The X-Men are too good sometime (just my personal opinion) I am so happy Kurt didn't die cause the way that I genuinely was scared that he would get killed scared me.

Seeing Sinister grow old and bald made me fucking day. Cause I already knew Phoenix was coming and she ate down (per usual)

Also Rogue beating up Bastion was so damn satisfying especially since it was in the name of Remy. I am so happy the Jubilee and Roberto made up. I also thought that Magneto and Xavier were going to kiss like multiple times.

I love how Scott was telling Logan to heal it was perfect just like how I love how Morph was there for Wolverine. Like Morph is down bad for him and you can not convince me otherwise.

I also loved seeing that Magneto was thinking of Wanda, Pietro, and Polaris. We should really get to see them. And damn does Pietro look like his daddy.

The fight sequences where so gorgeous and the way the X-Men refused to abandon each other when stopping the asteroid was everything to me. They are family and it's time to show it. I loved when Roberto saved Jubilee and how Jubilee slayed by blasting Bastions face.

The talk between Nathan, Scott, and Jean made me emotional. I hope they get an opportunity to be with their son even just for a little bit. I also knew good and damn well that they were gonna run into apocalypse. I can not wait for the next season I genuinely super fucking excited.

Also we finally got Bishop back!!! Woo hoo!! And Forge and Bishop going on a mission to save the X-Men is gonna be worth seeing. Very curious about who they plan on bringing with them. Like obviously I believe they are gonna have Roberto and Jubilee but aside from that who else.

On another note I hope Jubs is okay because she lost her family right infront of her eyes.

Loved the episode so fucking much!

[xthejazzdalorianx]

Kindred Souls (One-Shot)

pairing(s): Erik (Magneto) Lehnsherr x Telekinetic!Mutant!Female!Reader

warning(s): EXPLICIT SO MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, angst, SMUT, fluff, yearning, angst, fluff, p in v sex, reverence, and romance. Erik is rude as hell, but he warms up anyway. Oh yea, edging, too.

a/n: credit to my coworker for the title name, but i hope y’all enjoy this one! this would be my second fan fiction that i have ever written so please let me know if you have any tips & tricks or if you would like to see more! <3

word count: 4.1k

- - - - - - -

summary: In this story, Erik, struggling with Charles' death and his new role as X-Men leader, faces unresolved feelings for you. Your sudden return after ten years rekindles their deep connection, leading to a heartfelt confrontation about love and regret. The story ends with an intimate reunion that symbolizes healing and growth, as Erik seeks forgiveness and you offer unwavering support, setting the stage for a shared future.

- - - - - - -

It was evening in New York at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, and the air was cool and crisp with a hint of winter. The mansion, usually bustling with activity, was eerily quiet since Charles' passing. Outside, the city slept in blissful ignorance of the heavy decisions weighing on Erik's shoulders.

The sky above the mansion was a deep shade of indigo, the street lamps casting a soft golden glow on the surrounding buildings. The bare trees rustled in the crisp breeze, their branches casting long, spindly shadows across the quiet grounds. The mansion itself was a grand, old-fashioned building, its windows dark and silent.

Before he died, Charles had left a will with a profound request: that if anything were to happen to him, Erik would take over as leader of the X-Men and continue their mission to create harmony between humans and mutants. Though Erik wasn't sure if he still believed in this vision, it was something he cared deeply about. Charles had been more than just a friend; he was like a brother. And it was Charles who had seen the depth of Erik's feelings for you.

You were the light that brightened Erik's life, and your absence has left a void that he struggles to fill. The pain of losing you lingers like a shadow, a constant reminder of what once was. He buries his emotions deep inside, masking them with a facade of strength and control, but they never truly go away.

Erik now goes by Magneto, embracing the name as a symbol of power and dominance. It shields him from the world and makes him feel invincible. But at the same time, it creates a barrier that prevents him from facing his own vulnerability. His helmet serves as both a shield from external noise and a cage that keeps him isolated from his own feelings.

- - - - - - -

Sitting in Charles' old wheelchair, its leather worn and creaky under his weight, Magneto stared at his helmet. The metallic surface reflected the dim light of the room as he let out a heavy sigh, conveying the weariness in his soul.

He reached out, his fingertips brushing the cool metal of the helmet. With a flick of his wrist, it rose into the air, spinning slowly before his eyes. The power coursed through him, as natural as breathing, yet it brought him no comfort.

"What would you do, old friend?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper in the empty room. The silence that answered was deafening.

He was facing a harsh reality: he had lost your love and with it, a part of himself. His determination to fight for mutant rights often felt hollow without you by his side. The X-Men, who had once seen him as an enemy, now looked to him for guidance with a mix of suspicion and hope. He couldn't blame them; his actions in the past had been driven by his own relentless pursuit of power and control.

Despite the mistrust and fractured mission, Erik clung to Charles' vision. Though it may have faded over time, he still believed that mutants deserved equality, respect, and a chance at peaceful coexistence with humanity. It was a dream that seemed just as distant as the warmth he once found in your embrace.

Leaning back in the wheelchair, Magneto tried to focus on plans for the X-Men, but his mind kept drifting back to you. The plans seemed insignificant compared to the memories of your laughter and touch. As he attempted to steer his thoughts back towards the future he was trying to build, the weight of his emotions bore down heavily on him. The road ahead felt isolating and uncertain, but for Charles, for the X-Men, and for the hope of a better world, he would continue forward - no matter how shattered his heart may feel.

The door creaked open and shut quietly as you stepped into the room. For a moment, everything seemed frozen in time. It had been ten years since you last laid eyes on each other, and seeing Erik in the dim light of the study felt almost surreal. Your heart raced with uncertainty as you questioned whether this moment was real or simply a figment of your imagination.

- - - - - - -

"Erik?" Your voice was a hesitant whisper filled with a mix of emotions - uncertainty, longing, and the weight of years apart.

Erik's head whipped around upon hearing his name, a flicker of disbelief flashing across his face. For a moment, he thought he must be dreaming, but as he turned to fully face you, the reality of your presence was undeniable. His expression hardened into a mask of controlled stoicism, a defense mechanism honed from years of guarding his heart.

"What are you doing here?" Erik's voice remained steady, but a hint of vulnerability seeped through. "I wanted to be alone, and you have no right to call me that." His frown deepened, his emotions threatening to break through the carefully crafted facade he tried so hard to maintain.

As you laid eyes on him, the tension between you seemed palpable, almost visible in the air. His rigid stance and guarded expression were like a shield, shielding him from the emotions that threatened to break through.

Erik's body language spoke volumes - his stiff posture, the slight tensing of his jaw, the way he avoided making direct eye contact. He seemed to be trying to hold his emotions in check, but his eyes betrayed him, revealing a mix of longing and pain.

"I heard about Charles," you said softly, your heart aching for him. "I came to see how you're doing. The X-Men are worried about you, and I know how much he meant to you..." Your eyes were filled with sadness as you spoke, reaching out for him despite his attempt to push you away. You wanted to offer comfort, but hesitated, unsure of how he would react.

Magneto scoffed at your concern, his face a blend of disbelief and anger. He couldn't help but wonder: Did you truly care about Charles, or was there another reason for your return? What was your true agenda? "Why are you really here?" His voice held a hint of frustration, but beneath it lay a vulnerability he could barely acknowledge.

You were taken aback by his coldness, but took a deep breath before responding. "I'm here for both you and the X-Men, Erik." You paused before correcting yourself, "Magneto." Lowering your gaze briefly before looking back up at him, you continued, "Just because we have history doesn't mean I don't still care about you."

“You walked away,” he spat, his words stinging like a whip. “And now you're not my responsibility anymore.” His tone was harsh and sharp, piercing through your heart, but you knew it was just a mask to hide the pain you had caused him. You could feel the hurt that lingered from your departure, and while you understood his anger, you couldn't help but wonder if he was also struggling with his own unresolved emotions. Was he trying to come to terms with why you had left? Beneath his calm facade, you sensed a tempest of emotions brewing, but you weren't sure if he was ready to confront them.

You took a hesitant step forward, drawn towards the comforting warmth of the fireplace near his desk. He watched you closely, tracking your every move. As you gazed into the crackling flames, you tried to gather your thoughts and find the right words to address the past.

Turning back to face him, your mouth opened and closed as you struggled to speak. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but you looked away, unwilling to show him your vulnerability. “I left because I wanted a future with you,” you said softly, barely above a whisper. “I wanted us to have a family together. But then things changed...you started hurting people, Erik. You scared me…” Your voice trailed off as you wrapped your arms around yourself, unable to contain the weight of your emotions any longer.

Erik's expression softened as he placed the helmet on the desk and stood up from Charles' wheelchair. He walked towards you with purpose, his footsteps slow and deliberate. Gently, he lifted your chin to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry, liebling," he said, his voice tinged with a rare vulnerability.

- - - - - - -

As tears slowly rolled down your cheeks, Erik tenderly brushed them away with a gentle touch. "I wish you had told me," he whispered regretfully. "But I understand now why you left. I thought I was doing what needed to be done..." His voice trailed off as he searched for answers and a connection that he believed was lost forever.

His hand moved to rest against your cheek, and you leaned into it, closing your eyes. Your heart skipped a beat at his presence. "I know...my love," you said softly, filled with tenderness.

Erik's eyes widened as the word "love" fell from your lips. It was a word he hadn't heard in years, and it brought back memories that still haunted him. He struggled to find the right words, his heart racing at the thought of finally admitting his feelings for you. He opened his mouth several times, but no sound came out. After a few moments of silence, he managed to choke out, "Why...now?" He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. "Why are you telling me this now?" Despite the distance and time that had passed since they were together, his love for you had never truly gone away. It had always been there, even amidst his strong dedication to mutant rights.

You were at a loss for words. Your mind was buzzing with thoughts, unsure of what words to form or if you should even say anything at all.

He cautiously stepped closer, closing the gap between you. His familiar scent enveloped you, reminding you of all the memories you had tried so hard to bury. Your heart raced as he reached out, his fingers barely grazing your arm.

"I never thought I'd see you again," he murmured roughly, overcome with emotion.

You fought back tears as best as you could. "I didn't think you'd want to," you whispered.

A shadow of pain passed over his face. "I've regretted that day for years," he admitted. "If I could go back..."

You shook your head, cutting him off. "We can't change the past, Erik. I couldn't stay away any longer," you confessed. "I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you focus on your mission. But then I realized..." You took a deep breath, trying to hold back your emotions. "I realized that life is too short and unpredictable, especially for people like us."

Erik winced at your words. He had been younger then, fueled by his intense hatred towards humanity and the injustices he had endured. He hadn't expected that hatred to overshadow his ability to love, and your words left him struggling to find a response.

You pleaded with him, desperate for a response. Your eyes scanned his face, hoping to catch a glimpse of what he truly felt. Suddenly, you noticed a change in his expression - a fleeting look of desire and vulnerability.

In a rush of emotion, Erik blurted out, "Will you stay with me?" His voice quivered with unspoken worries. "I can't handle losing you again, mein liebe."

You didn’t hesitate to agree to stay. The thought of being apart from him once more was unbearable; you had missed him desperately. Erik never truly believed that you would return to him. He thought you would want nothing to do with him after everything that had happened.

- - - - - - -

As soon as your words left your lips, his heart began to pound and his mind raced out of control. Memories of your love flooded his mind: the feel of your skin, the sound of your voice, the scent of your perfume. They overwhelmed him, filling the space between you with a powerful and bittersweet nostalgia.

Your voice trembled with emotion as you spoke again. "I will never leave you again," you said softly. "My love for you has never faltered. Even after all these years apart, I never moved on." Your words hit him hard, a gut-punch he wasn't expecting. His heart felt like it was about to burst from the intensity of emotions that surged through him. Hearing you declare your love once more was a truth he had struggled to accept himself. Deep down, he had never truly let go of his feelings for you.

He took a shaky breath and gently placed his hand on the back of your neck. You both closed your eyes as he pulled you in closer until your foreheads were touching. “I have never stopped loving you,” he whispered, barely above a murmur. “It was torture when you left…” He swallowed hard, trying to contain the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. All the years apart, battles fought, and loneliness endured came crashing down in that moment.

With a few calming breaths, you both opened your eyes and slowly pulled apart, the closeness still tangible. His gaze held yours, baring his heart in a raw, vulnerable state. "You were my everything," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I didn't realize until now how lost I was without you." He searched your face for any sign of the promised love, hoping against hope that this time would bring something different.

There was an invisible force between you, pulling you together with a magnetic power that could not be resisted. Your eyes remained locked on each other's lips, filled with anticipation and unspoken promises. Then, without hesitation, your lips met in a passionate embrace. As the kiss deepened, years of yearning finally gave way to the storm of emotions between you.

The initial touch of your lips sparked an electric current through him, nearly causing him to lose his balance. Guided by a tender yet commanding force, his hands firmly grasped your hips and drew you closer. A deep hum escaped him as each kiss reignited long-suppressed desires. Amidst the exchange of fervent kisses, you whispered how much you had missed him, soothing his aching heart with every word.

Erik felt another surge of longing as each kiss intensified their shared confessions, drawing them closer with every heated touch. The urgency in their kisses grew more insistent, begging for closeness as he pulled her tighter against him. Unable to wait any longer, he reluctantly broke the embrace and gazed at her pleadingly as she reached for him. In a raw and desperate voice, he whispered, "Please...I need you." There was no room for hesitation in his tone, only an overwhelming urgency that demanded immediate action.

- - - - - - -

As your eyes meet, a silent understanding passes between you. You use your powers to change the room, and the furniture rearranges itself as if by magic. The soft glow of the fireplace reflects off the cozy blankets and plush pillows, inviting you to indulge in the moment.

The room was quickly transformed into a warm and inviting space, the furniture moving under your careful control as you worked together. The blankets and pillows seemed to dance in the air, creating a cozy and intimate nook by the fireplace. The flickering flames cast a soft orange glow, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

Erik led you to a cozy nest of pillows and blankets near the flickering fire, gazing at you with a mix of longing and adoration. He guided you onto the soft surface with gentle movements, his eyes drinking in every curve and contour of your body as if he wanted to commit them to memory.

His thumb traced along your jawline, causing you to let out a gasp. The tension in your body only fueled Erik's desire for you. His hand ventured down your body and slipped into your pants, finding the heat and wetness waiting for him.

Your breath caught at his touch, and your body instinctively moved towards him. The intensity in Erik's eyes grew as he watched your reaction. With skillful precision, he brushed his fingers between the folds of your sex, hitting all the sensitive spots that sent waves of pleasure through you. Your body trembled beneath him as he continued to pleasure you.

Erik’s lips traced a path down your neck, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive skin. With his free hand, he worked on unbuttoning your shirt, revealing more of your flesh to his hungry gaze. As each button came undone, he placed soft kisses on the newly exposed skin, gradually making his way down your chest. Your breath hitched as he reached the swell of your breasts, teasingly brushing his hot mouth against the edge of your bra.

"Erik, please," you whimpered, arching into his touch.

He looked up at you, eyes dark with desire. "Tell me what you want, love," he murmured against your skin.

"I want you," you gasped. "All of you."

With a growl, Erik captured your lips again in a searing kiss. His hands made quick work of the rest of your clothing, leaving you bare beneath him. You tugged at his shirt impatiently, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

Erik let out a soft chuckle as he pulled away, discarding his clothes before settling back above you. Your eyes drank in the sight of his toned body as he positioned himself back into place. One hand stayed close to your head while the other made its way down to your center. As he began to gently massage small circles on your most sensitive spot, your muscles tensed and your breath hitched in your throat.

He craved your scent, wanting to lose himself in it completely. He wanted to savor every bit of you.

Suddenly, he slid his middle and ring fingers between your folds, causing you to cry out in shock. As he started to move in and out of you, you couldn't help but whisper his name like a holy chant. "Erik," you moaned, cherishing the way his name felt on your lips.

Erik's smirk only widened as he continued to tease you with his fingers. "Liebling, if you keep calling my name like that, I don't know if I can hold back much longer," he playfully warned.

His fingers slipped into you at a frustratingly slow pace and you could feel yourself reaching the brink of pleasure. "Please, Erik... faster..." you pleaded, desperate for him to pick up the pace. He obliged, finding that perfect spot inside of you that sent waves of ecstasy through your body. The books on the bookshelf started to topple as your telekinetic powers reacted to the overwhelming sensation. Erik clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"I'm close," you whimpered, but Erik shook his head.

"Not yet... not until I say so," he said with a teasing tone. This only made you groan in frustration, your hips moving in rhythm with his fingers in a desperate attempt to reach your climax. But just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, he pulled his fingers out.

You let out a whimper at the loss of his touch. Erik chuckled softly and positioned himself between your legs, pumping himself a few times before rubbing his cock against your folds, teasing you even further.

"Stop teasing me," you pouted, your frustration palpable. You wanted to smack him for holding back your release and taunting you with his erection.

After some playful teasing, he entered you, emitting a deep groan as he felt the warmth radiating from you. He waited for you to adjust to his size before moving again.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders. "Yes," you gasped. "Please..."

Erik started to move at a gentle pace, each thrust bringing waves of pleasure. You arched your back, matching his movements. His lips found their way to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your sensitive skin.

As passion overtook both of you, the tempo increased gradually. The air was filled with soft moans and gasps as Erik's strong arms held you close, driving deeper into your body. You ran your fingers through his hair, overwhelmed by the intense sensations.

"Erik," you cried out as waves of ecstasy began to build inside you. Your body trembled under his urgent movements as he buried his face in your neck, sending shivers down your spine with his hot breath.

"You feel amazing," he groaned, his voice thick with desire.

Your fingers dug into his broad shoulders as the intensity grew, and Erik's lips found your neck, leaving hot kisses along your sensitive skin. You arched your back against his solid chest, unable to hold back your pleasure any longer.

"Oh god, Erik," you moaned desperately.

He responded by increasing his pace, driving you both closer to the edge. The friction between your bodies was almost too much to bear. You could feel yourself on the brink of release.

Erik's ragged breathing and urgent movements pushed you over the edge. "Come for me," he growled in your ear, his desire evident in his husky voice.

Those words were all it took for you to tumble into mind-blowing ecstasy. Erik followed moments later, whispering your name as he found his own release.

You clung to each other, riding out the waves of pleasure together.

His hand moved to your clit, gently rubbing it in slow circles that made you arch your hips up in delight. "E-erik!," you gasped, unable to contain yourself. He silenced you with a tender shush and continued peppering kisses along your neck, marking you as his own.

The pleasure was reaching an overwhelming level, rendering you speechless as your brows furrowed in sheer ecstasy. He wanted to prolong your orgasm, drawing out every moment of bliss. Suddenly, without warning, a surge of release overcame you and you gasped for breath. Erik smirked, pleased with the outcome of his actions. He withdrew from you, leaving a mix of his cum and your juices scattered around.

"Good girl," he whispers, kissing your forehead. As Erik shifts to the side, you snuggle against his chest and feel the quick thumping of his heart. His arms wrap around you, keeping you warm and secure as your breath slows back to a steady rhythm. A sense of deep satisfaction washes over you as you revel in the peaceful aftermath.

For a long while, you lay together in contented silence, basking in the afterglow. Erik's fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin as you nestled against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow. The crackling fire cast a warm glow over your entwined bodies.

"I've missed this," Erik murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Missed you."

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, seeing a vulnerability there that he rarely showed. "I've missed you too," you whispered. "More than you know."

His arms tightened around you. "I was a fool to let you go," he said, voice thick with emotion. "I won't make

The room was bathed in a warm glow from the fireplace, casting dancing shadows on the repositioned furniture. The blankets and pillows seemed to float effortlessly through the air, creating a cozy and inviting space.

As your eyes meet, a silent understanding passes between you. You use your powers to change the room, and the furniture rearranges itself as if by magic. The soft glow of the fireplace reflects off the cozy blankets and plush pillows, inviting you to indulge in the moment.

The room was quickly transformed into a warm and inviting space, the furniture moving under your careful control as you worked together. The blankets and pillows seemed to dance in the air, creating a cozy and intimate nook by the fireplace. The flickering flames cast a soft orange glow, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

- - - - - - -

Erik led you to a cozy nest of pillows and blankets near the flickering fire, gazing at you with a mix of longing and adoration. He guided you onto the soft surface with gentle movements, his eyes drinking in every curve and contour of your body as if he wanted to commit them to memory.

His thumb traced along your jawline, causing you to let out a moan. The tension in your body only fueled Erik's desire for you. His hand ventured down your body and slipped into your pants, finding the heat and wetness waiting for him.

Your breath caught at his touch, and your body instinctively moved towards him. The intensity in Erik's eyes grew as he watched your reaction. With skillful precision, he brushed his fingers between the folds of your sex, hitting all the sensitive spots that sent waves of pleasure through you. Your body trembled beneath him as he continued to pleasure you.

Erik’s lips traced a path down your neck, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive skin. With his free hand, he worked on unbuttoning your shirt, revealing more of your flesh to his hungry gaze. As each button came undone, he placed soft kisses on the newly exposed skin, gradually making his way down your chest. Your breath hitched as he reached the swell of your breasts, teasingly brushing his hot mouth against the edge of your bra.

"Erik, please," you whimpered, arching into his touch.

He looked up at you, eyes dark with desire. "Tell me what you want, love," he murmured against your skin.

"I want you," you gasped. "All of you."

With a growl, Erik captured your lips again in a searing kiss. His hands made quick work of the rest of your clothing, leaving you bare beneath him. You tugged at his shirt impatiently, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

Erik let out a soft chuckle as he pulled away, discarding his clothes before settling back above you. Your eyes drank in the sight of his toned body as he positioned himself back into place. One hand stayed close to your head while the other made its way down to your center. As he began to gently massage small circles on your most sensitive spot, your muscles tensed and your breath hitched in your throat.

He craved your scent, wanting to lose himself in it completely. He wanted to savor every bit of you.

Suddenly, he slid his middle and ring fingers between your folds, causing you to cry out in shock. As he started to move in and out of you, you couldn't help but whisper his name like a holy chant. "Erik," you moaned, cherishing the way his name felt on your lips.

Erik's smirk only widened as he continued to tease you with his fingers. "Liebling, if you keep calling my name like that, I don't know if I can hold back much longer," he playfully warned.

His fingers slipped into you at a frustratingly slow pace and you could feel yourself reaching the brink of pleasure. "Please, Erik... faster..." you pleaded, desperate for him to pick up the pace. He obliged, finding that perfect spot inside of you that sent waves of ecstasy through your body. The books on the bookshelf started to topple as your telekinetic powers reacted to the overwhelming sensation. Erik clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"I'm close," you whimpered, but Erik shook his head.

"Not yet... not until I say so," he said with a teasing tone. This only made you groan in frustration, your hips moving in rhythm with his fingers in a desperate attempt to reach your climax. But just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, he pulled his fingers out.

You let out a whimper at the loss of his touch. Erik chuckled softly and positioned himself between your legs, pumping himself a few times before rubbing his cock against your folds, teasing you even further.

"Stop teasing me," you pouted, your frustration palpable. You wanted to smack him for holding back your release and taunting you with his erection.

After some playful teasing, he entered you, emitting a deep groan as he felt the warmth radiating from you. He waited for you to adjust to his size before moving again.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders. "Yes," you gasped. "Please..."

Erik started to move at a gentle pace, each thrust bringing waves of pleasure. You arched your back, matching his movements. His lips found their way to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your sensitive skin.

As passion overtook both of you, the tempo increased gradually. The air was filled with soft moans and gasps as Erik's strong arms held you close, driving deeper into your body. You ran your fingers through his hair, overwhelmed by the intense sensations.

"Erik," you cried out as waves of ecstasy began to build inside you. Your body trembled under his urgent movements as he buried his face in your neck, sending shivers down your spine with his hot breath.

"You feel amazing," he groaned, his voice thick with desire.

Your fingers dug into his broad shoulders as the intensity grew, and Erik's lips found your neck, leaving hot kisses along your sensitive skin. You arched your back against his solid chest, unable to hold back your pleasure any longer.

"Oh god, Erik," you moaned desperately.

He responded by increasing his pace, driving you both closer to the edge. The friction between your bodies was almost too much to bear. You could feel yourself on the brink of release.

Erik's ragged breathing and urgent movements pushed you over the edge. "Come for me," he growled in your ear, his desire evident in his husky voice.

Those words were all it took for you to tumble into mind-blowing ecstasy. Erik followed moments later, whispering your name as he found his own release.

You clung to each other, riding out the waves of pleasure together.

His hand moved to your clit, gently rubbing it in slow circles that made you arch your hips up in delight. "E-erik!," you gasped, unable to contain yourself. He silenced you with a tender shush and continued peppering kisses along your neck, marking you as his own.

The pleasure was reaching an overwhelming level, rendering you speechless as your brows furrowed in sheer ecstasy. He wanted to prolong your orgasm, drawing out every moment of bliss. Suddenly, without warning, a surge of release overcame you and you gasped for breath. Erik smirked, pleased with the outcome of his actions. He withdrew from you, leaving a mix of his cum and your juices scattered around.

"Good girl," he whispers, kissing your forehead. As Erik shifts to the side, you snuggle against his chest and feel the quick thumping of his heart. His arms wrap around you, keeping you warm and secure as your breath slows back to a steady rhythm. A sense of deep satisfaction washes over you as you revel in the peaceful aftermath.

- - - - - - -

For a long while, you lay together in contented silence, basking in the afterglow. Erik's fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin as you nestled against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow. The crackling fire cast a warm glow over your entwined bodies.

"I've missed this," Erik murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Missed you."

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, seeing a vulnerability there that he rarely showed. "I've missed you too," you whispered. "More than you know."

His arms tightened around you. "I was a fool to let you go," he said, voice thick with emotion. "I won't make that mistake again."

"We both made mistakes," you replied gently. "But we're here now. That's what matters."

Erik nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. His fingers continued to trace lazy patterns on your skin as you lay nestled against him. The crackling fire cast flickering shadows across the room, enveloping you both in warmth and intimacy.

"What happens now?" you asked softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Erik was quiet for a moment, his hand stilling on your back. "I don't know," he admitted. "Charles left me with an enormous responsibility. The X-Men, the school... it's all in my hands now." His voice held a note of uncertainty you'd rarely heard from him before.

You propped yourself up on an elbow to look at him. "You don't have to do it alone," you said. "I'm here. And the X-Men - they may not trust you fully yet, but they'll support you. It's what Charles would have wanted."

Erik's eyes searched yours, a mix of emotions playing across his face. "You're right," he said softly. "Charles always believed in the power of unity, even when I couldn't see it." He paused, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "But can you forgive me for the things I've done? The pain I've caused?"

You leaned into his touch, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. "I forgave you a long time ago, Erik," you whispered. "The question is, can you forgive yourself?"

He closed his eyes, a pained expression crossing his face. When he opened them again, there was a determination there that you recognized. "I want to try," he said. "For Charles. For the X-Men. For us."

You smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "Then that's where we'll start.”

- - - - - - -

glossary: liebling = darling, mein liebe = my darling

[ratlikeclown]

WIP Wolverine x femReader 18+

“God, do you ever suck on anything other than Wade’s dick and cheap cigars?”

He leaned in close to your ear and growled,

“Ya lookin to find out Princess?”

x Deadpool kinda eventually lmfaoooo

FemY/n is mid 20’s - early 30’s

Tw for depression and like drug use mentions ig

🌶️🫵

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello 👋 This is the first fanfic that I have written in over 10 years the brain rot is so unbelievably real for wolverine and deadpool rn

its a little embarrassing tbh lmfaoo

—————————

I’m not really sure how to tag this tbh. I’ve never posted on tumblr. . It’s a little spicy and will get more interesting later. I just wanted to toss this small part out for readers to test the waters. Anyway um I’m not experienced writing y/n pov so please be nice.

Your friend, Wade Wilson, couldn’t take no for an answer. You knew that and yet you still had the audacity to tell him ‘no’ three times tonight. And about thirty minutes after you ignored his last phone call there he was, practically knocking down your door. It wasn’t like he couldn’t actually kick in your door, he was just being polite. 

The apartment buzzer went off. You sat up from your position on the couch, hoping he’d just give up and leave if you didn’t acknowledge him. Like a stray cat. Or a crackhead.

“Knock knock~” you heard his voice through the door. “I smell Hot Pockets and sadness I know you’re in there”

Gripping the arm of the sofa you waited hoping he’d have the common courtesy fuck off .You heard the door knob rattle. Dumbass.

With a click of the lock, your door swung open revealing Wade, grinning as he shoved his Baby Knife back into his coat.

“Wade, what the fuck? I told you-“

He clapped his hands loudly, interrupting you.

 “Let’s go Funshine Bear, the nights young and I’m not going anywhere without you” Wade marched past you, straight to your bedroom humming to himself.

“You look awful by the way, we’ll fix you up though.” He clicked his tongue and crooked a finger in your direction. You huffed angrily, sliding off the couch to follow him. 

You stopped in the doorway, almost refusing to step inside. He was elbows deep in your closet drawers, throwing clothes onto your bed, muttering his disapproval at every item he tossed.

You crossed your arms as you watched him. 

“Do you have anything that doesn’t look like you took it from the Walmart dumpster?” He pulled a drawer out from the dresser and dumped it on the floor. “You know the one I’m talking about, right? Where all the coke addicted bronies go to have a bone sess before band practice.”

You crossed your arms as you watched him. “Wade, I’m not in the mood to go out.”

You heard him sigh, but continued to riffle through your things. 

“That’s nonsense, the plot can’t continue with out you. Annnd we made these plans last week.”

He peeked at you from behind the open closet door. “I’m a little worried about you. You aren’t your chipper self lately”

“I’m just tired” You replied dismissively.

It wasn’t like Wade hasn’t been trying to cheer you up in his own way. For the last few weeks he’d text you obscure and quite frankly disturbing memes at 3 AM. Excitedly offer you drugs that he’s pilfered from the his blind roommate- (he knows you don’t do drugs, he just wanted to brag about stealing coke from Blind Al)

He’s also been sending you the strangest X-Men fan fiction. (His favorites were ‘old man yaoi’ including Professor Xavier and Magneto) Usually you eat that kind of stuff up, finding it funny that you knew some of the people that the fanfiction was written about, like a private joke between you and Deadpool. But worst thing he’s done has beencalling you almost every day and attempting to make plans with you, but you always seem to cancel last minute. So yeah, he has been trying. It just.. didn’t help.

Your eyes flickered to your wall of photos next to the closet door.  Pictures of your closest friends and family. Their arms around you laughing, smiling. Pictures of trips and silly outings that meant the world to you. You felt so much guilt and regret looking at them.

Depression was a bitch. It was like a rabid dog that wouldn’t let you get back on your feet. You felt it gnawing at you, causing you to lose interest in everyone and everything. You felt alone. Your eyes fell back to Wade, you watched your friend hard at work trying to match your shoes with a dress he had found. He was clueless. You couldn’t tell him any of this though, it would just make him worry more.

There was someone you did want to talk to though. To tell everything to. Someone that you had grown so close to the last few months.

You missed Logan.

This realization caused your face to heat and anxiety weld up in your chest. You balled your hands into fits thinking about that arrogant jerk. You’ve tried to be a friend to Wolverine. After all this wasn’t his reality. He was your timeline’s replacement. (Idk you should go watch the movie. I’m not explaining it.) and for a while, you thought you were friends.

Lately, if he wasn’t drunk and depressingly moody, he was angry and a massive dick. 

“Y/N? Look a little pink at the cheeks are you feeling OK?” Wade was now standing less than a foot from you, his brows furrowed. You hadn’t noticed him move.

Snapping back from your thoughts by Wades voice, you ran hands over your face as you turn towards the attached bathroom.

“Dude, I told you I’m just not feeling good-” You stepped into the bathroom and turned on the faucet “I don’t wanna hang out with-“

“Logan?”

“Your friends.” You finished. You felt your face flush deeper at his name being mentioned.

“That’s what I said” Wade followed you to the bathroom, but thankfully didn’t come in. He stood outside while you closed the door. 

“Trust me honey, I know he’s the embodiment of a sentient happiness starved cactus whose father never loved him but-“

You groaned, trying to avoid Wades ramblings you turned the water on full blast, drowning out the remainder of his sentence. You splashed water on your face and ran a comb through your hair. You heard Wade continue talking, almost to himself while also sounding like he was talking to someone else in the room  as well. Someone you couldn’t see. He did that often. It was creepy.

You swung the door open frowning.

“-sometimes he stabs me through the face to shut me up, but I know he does it because he’s not good with words.”

Wade smile faded when he saw your face. 

“It’s kinda hot”

“I don’t want to talk about it Wade.” You sat down onto your bed with a huff despite the pile of clothes and plastic hangers. You stared at your hands. You felt the overwhelming weight of your anxiety in your chest and stomach. Maybe you should go out. Maybe he won’t show up tonight. Maybe-

“You look like you wanna talk about it Friendo.”

Wade joined you by dramatically pushing all the clothes off the bed, making an even bigger mess of your room. He flopped down onto your bed stomach first, propping himself up by his elbows. He kicked his feet and smiled at you.

“I’m all ears.”

“I don’t know how to start” You admitted.

“Start with an ‘I feel’ statement” 

Another sigh escaped your mouth. How did you feel? It felt complicated. You met him a few months ago. At first he was rude and closed off. Then he slowly began to open up, sure you still bickered and fought like cats, but it had playful undertones. (‘Sexy undertones’ Wade had joked) When he was being genuine and open, it felt like you could talk to him for hours. Though he never spoke for too long, he would to listen to you earnestly. Up until a few weeks ago, that is.

“I feel like Logan hates me. I feel like he would rather huff paint thinner than have a decent conversation with me.”

Wade laughed. “Well that’s not true, I can’t get him to huff anything.”

You shot him a look.

“Listen, I invite Mr. Grumpy out every time. But he’s too busy sulking to get fucked up with us. He would rather get drunk and pass out in the floor of the apartment. He probably won’t even show up.” Wade gave you a reassuring look.

“If he does you’re gonna be there with me. We’ll leave if you feel uncomfortable at all.”

He rolled over and sat up, putting an arm around you.

“I’ve just noticed your mood lately I need you to know that I love you.” He gave your shoulder a squeeze.  “-and I miss getting fucked up with you.”

“Will you stab him for me if he’s mean?”

“Of course. I always have Baby Knife on me.”

“Fine. Let me get ready”

He jumped off the bed excitedly.

You pushed Wade out the door to get dressed, pausing in the doorway. “Wade?”

“Yes Friendo?” He turned on his heel

“I love you too bud”

He squealed as you closed the door.

~~~

You never understood why Wade wouldn’t just buy a car. He makes decent money (he doesn’t) and could probably afford a nice one. (He couldn’t) At one point you recall him having a weird hyperfixation with the Honda Odyssey (he fucked Wolverine in one) (allegedly)

Instead, you were climbing into the back of a dirty beat up taxi cab that his friend, Dopinder, drove for a living. At least you didn’t have to walk. Dopinder was a sweet guy, if not a little unhinged every once in a while. 

“You look quite beautiful tonight Miss Y/N” He complimented you as you settled in the back seat. You smiled at him, appreciating the comment. Wade had picked out your dress and you felt a little exposed and out of your element in it. It wasn’t anything crazy, just a slick black dress with a low neck line. The dress was short, ending a little above the knee. The problem was the slit up the side. You wanted to wear tights under the outfit but Wade insisted on fishnets. ‘You look like a goth baddie’  he had assured you, ‘Like a Hot Topic clearance rack version of Morticia Addams.’

Wade hopped in the front and immediately started to flip through the radio channels. Dopinder usually had on pleasant sounding Indian pop music but Wade settled on some heavily censored 90’s hip hop. 

The drive was rocky. Wade, who almost never kept his hands to himself, would grab poor  Dopinder while dancing along to the music causing the cab to swerve. A lot.

Having made it to the bar in one piece, you quickly scrambled out of the back, thanking the young man for the ride. 

Wade waited for you at the door.

~~~

The bar was loud and dark. One of those typical bars you see in movies, filled with moving bodies and cigarette smoke. Music pumped through the speakers with some people lingering near the bar while others swayed on the dance floor. Wade bounced through the crowd pulling you along towards the bar, where his group of friends took up half the bar area. You scanned the crowd nervously. No Logan. Your muscles relaxed, and you moved with a little more energy.

Wade greeted his friends with various enthusiastic greetings and crude gestures. You smiled in greeting and waved at a friend you recognized but sat down on a stool next to where Wade stood, him blocking you from most of the other bar patrons. There was a part of you that was a little disappointed that Logan wasn’t here. It made sense if he didn’t show up here, this bar was honestly more like a club, upbeat and energetic. He’s used to dark depressing dive bars, places you can drink yourself into a coma and not be bothered. But the few times he had shown up here you had thought that he enjoyed your company, for a little while at least. During times when the others were off doing dubious shit somewhere, he’d sit with you at the bar. You even managed to get him to dance with you once. That all changed recently. Something happened that caused him to be distant and often rude for seemingly no reason.

Everyone seems to be so happy to see Wade and he, them. You didn’t really know why you were here. It already felt overwhelming. You used to love coming here. Drinking and dancing, playing pool badly and belting out shitty country music karaoke with everyone. Lately, things have felt different. You’ve lost interest in a lot of the things you use to enjoy, spending your days just working and rotting in your apartment. This was too much.

Wade touched your shoulder causing you to jump.

“Hey we’re off to play some darts you in?” 

You smiled at your friend. “You really wouldn’t want me to play, you’d end up as the dart board.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time Sweetheart” Wade laughed, “we’ll be over there if you change your mind.” He made a heart with his hands and turned toward the group already making their way to the play area.

You sat quietly at the counter with a glass of something sweet and strong. You wanted to feel a buzz but you needed it to taste good. Your eyes scanned the crowd, people watching. You watched people dance and sway to the newest Kesha song blaring through the speakers. You witnessed a near fight over a pool game. You heard Wade’s laughter from across the room, his friends echoing along. You felt alone. It was your fault you told yourself. If you wanted to feel better you would’ve gotten up and joined your friends. But here you sat, being miserable on purpose. 

“Hey beautiful, mind if I joined you?” Your head snapped up meeting the face of someone you didn’t recognize. He was good looking, in a vanilla frat boy kinda way. With his backwards hat, sleeveless tank, skinny jeans and all.

But he smiled like a wolf.

“I’m sorry.” You tried to smile politely, but you had a twinge of anxiety growing in your chest. “I’m not really in the mood for company” 

The man smiled motioning to the bartender for a drink. “Can’t I just buy you a drink? “

“Really, I’m fine” You turned back to your drink, your eyes unfocused, hoping that if you just ignored him he’d leave. Your gut flipped when you heard him pull out the stool next to you. He wasn’t leaving.

“Come on babe, I can show you a good time”

“She said she ain’t looking for company bub.” A low voice growled behind you. A beer bottle came down heavily in between you and the creep. Your eyes trailed the hairy but beautifully sculpted arm to its owner, though you already knew who it belonged to. Logan. Even in this lighting you could see his rugged face. His hair was styled in its iconic cat ear shape. His beard was trimmed nicely combined with his thick muttonchops. His eyes were a little hazy but beautiful and dark. You met those eyes for a brief moment, he smirked at you before his gaze flickered to the other man.

 “Well?” He rumbled, barring his teeth.

“Naw, I was here first grandpa, you fuck off.” The frat guy stood up straight, trying to look intimidating.

“Trust me” Logan chuckled. He straightened cracking his knuckles before raising his fists and extending three razor sharp Adamantium claws from each hand.

“You don’t want none of this”

~~~

“You didn’t have to do that” you looked down at your glass avoiding Logan’s gaze. You heard him land heavily in the bar stool next to you. He tapped the counter signaling the bartender who was very clearly avoiding your side of the bar.

“I wasn’t going to have some limp dick creeping on you.”

“I was handling it” 

“You didn’t seem like you were handling anything Princess.” He scoffed.

You shot him a look. He smirked as he chugged his remaining beer, you couldn’t help watch his throat bob as he drank. He finished and loudly set the bottle down. He met your eyes and you looked away feeling your face heat violently.

“You thirsty princess?” He asked as the bartender set down two shots of something before scurrying away. He slid one glass your way.

“No thank you. I have my own drink”

You pushed the glass back his way. He eyed your almost empty cocktail and shrugged.

“Suit yourself” he took the glasses and knocked back both shots simultaneously slamming the glasses back down. After a few moments of silence, where you clearly felt Logan eyeing you the entire time, you sighed.

“I didn’t think I’d see you tonight Logan.” You admitted. Another beer had appeared in front of him, he took a swig. He eyed you, his eyes slowly trailing from your face down your body. They rested at the slit in your dress, exposing most of your fishnet covered thigh. You felt a ping in your lower belly, causing you to cross your legs uncomfortably. His eyes followed to movement. He licked his lips and met your eyes again smirking.

“Why didja miss me?”

You looked down at the growing piles of shredded napkins you had been anxiously ripping apart. 

“Yes” you said at last. There was no point in lying. You did miss him. Even seeing him now, clearly drinking away his problems, you couldn’t help but feel glad he was there with you. You were glad he scared away that creep, despite his now passive aggressive demeanor. You met his eyes again.

He snorted and tipped the beer to his lips.“You’re a fucking liar”

You felt your gut squeeze with anger. Why was he treating you this way? You didn’t ask him to step in to a play hero. You didn’t ask him for anything. You just wanted to get out of your shitty apartment for one goddamn night. You balled your fists and spun to face him fully.

“What. The. Fuck.” You clenched your teeth annunciating each word bitterly. “Is. YOUR PROBLEM”

“My PROBLEM,” he practically spat the word,

”is that I have to deal with your moody ass attracting the eye of every fucking creep in this place when you very fucking clearly don’t want to be here.” 

You threw your hands up angrily and gestured around the bar. 

“I didn’t want to deal with any of this Logan. I just wanted to go out with my FRIENDS, which I used to think you were one. I don’t fucking know what prick you had up your ass lately, but you sure as hell don’t act like you like me. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?”

He was silent for a moment, studying your face, making it turn even redder. Then he laughed. He shook his head laughing and sloppily chugged his second beer.

You had enough. You needed to get away from him. You shoved yourself back, tipping the stool over in the process.

“Come find me when you figure out what you want.” You turned to leave. You made it a few steps before you heard Logan’s voice call mockingly.

“Nice dress by the way” 

You didn’t turn to look at him.

“Fuck you, Logan”

~~~

You ran your hands under cold water, leaning over the sink you splashed the water into your face and sighed. You looked into your mirrored face. This was a disaster.

Maybe if you just stayed in the bathroom you can avoid everyone until Wade was ready to leave. You felt bad that you ran off instead of finding him. You would’ve felt safe with Wade.

Your head was swimming, from the alcohol or the interaction with Logan you couldn’t tell.

The speaker above you crackled playing the opening notes to ‘Dirty Diana’, a favorite of yours. A banger Wade would say.

Without warning the door sung open and Logan stumbled in. 

“You’re in the wrong bathroom you drunk asshole” you snapped. His eyes met yours from a brief moment before he swayed slightly and took a step forward.

He pushed past you wordlessly and began kicking open the bathroom stalls. They were all empty. 

“Dude get out” You gripped the sink behind you, watching Logan warily. You knew deep down he wouldn’t hurt you but you obviously didn’t want him in here with you. He turned to you, taking a step forward.

”I needed to talk to you”

“Yeah, you could have waited til I got out of the ladies room??��� 

“No.” he growled before in one swift movement he was in front of you, his arms on either side of the sink trapping you between them. Your breath came out in a shudder and your knees wobbled. This honestly was a thing out of a fantasy, something that you were embarrassed to admit you’ve thought about. You had been fighting your feelings for this big stupid man, stuck between thoughts of friendship and lust. God, he wasn’t helping with the latter.

“Logan”

“I’m sorry” he said looking as remorseful as he could under the circumstances.

“What did you need to talk about that couldn’t wait Lo?” You swallowed, gently lifting your hand and placing it on his chest, pushing lightly. His hands moved to your legs keeping you from pushing him further.

“Ya told me to find you when I figured out what I wanted”

“Yeah” You scoffed. “Enlighten me”

~~~

“I want you”

Logan leaned over you, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips. His fingers dug in lightly, the movement making your legs feel like jelly. You gripped his shoulders to steady yourself. He was so firm and warm under your hands.

His face was inches from yours, his expression unreadable in the low lighting. You smelled the smoke and alcohol on his breath.

“God, do you ever suck on anything other than Wade’s dick and cheap cigars?”

He leaned in close to your ear and growled, 

“Ya looking to find out princess?”

You felt a ping of desire sink into your lower belly as his hand moved from your waist.

Shivers went down your spine as his hands slid up your torso coming to a stop right below your breasts. One of his thumbs brushed upwards lightly, teasingly.

You sucked in a breath as he lowered his face to your neck and brushed a kiss to the sensitive skin. His facial hair tickling your jaw.

“Logan, you’re drunk.” You croaked out, pulling away slightly, your hands sliding from his shoulders. He moved with you.

You felt his lips brush your skin again, another kiss, before his thumb slid upward against your breast. Fuck. The wet heat between your legs was unbearable. You needed some sort of friction. You definitely noticed the pressure from his pants pressed against your stomach. So close, you just needed anything. You bucked your hips against his, almost involuntarily, causing a rumble to escape his throat. His thumb stroked again.

“That’s a good girl” His head bobbed lower dragging his tongue down as he kissed your neck. You could feel him smile as he sucked the skin of your collar bone in a way that would definitely leave a mark. Holy Hell. What was happening.

You were sick of your neck getting all the attention as you reached up to take his face in your hand. He practically melted at your touch, his breath hitching as you stroked his cheek with your thumb. You wanted him, needed his mouth on yours. You pulled his face up, a little roughly, to meet your gaze. You thought you heard him let out a little surprised chuckle from the movement. His eyes were half lidded as he met yours. He was drunk, and you realized, so were you. You leaned in, your lips feather light against his-

You jumped at Wade’s voice from the other side of the door, calling for you.

Shit. You dropped your hand away from his face.

Logan growled, low and angry. He abruptly took his hot hands from your body and leaned his head to your ear, you felt his lips against your skin.

“Some other time then, darlin’.” He pulled away from you swaying slightly, before grabbing his beer from the counter and yanking open the bathroom door.

~~~

Anyway, thanks for reading. I guess I don’t know if this is any good and I will be posting the rest on Ao3 eventually

[rei-ismyname]

The Birth of New Genosha

(As remembered by Magneto in Magneto 2014)

Pretty dangerous of Magneto to not be wearing a helmet right now. Then again, these are his memories so take them with a grain of salt. Logan going 'RAAAAAARGH!' for example, with Storm and Rogue (I think) holding him back. Charles being a little more Charles-ish than usual, Mags looking handsome as hell ;). His life is flashing before his eyes, super interesting that he'd be remembering this specifically.

Lol, Xavier and Magneto's faces here. We're definitely in his memories. He sees this as a big victory, and for a good while it was. Only ended through circumstances outside anyone's control. Smug Magneto and and constipated Xavier - the two genders.

[arceus-insanity]

A Moral Scapegoat for who?

All For One is a shit character, he is presented as a massive threat, but we never see him get a win, similar to the dissonance between the All Might we see and the context in universe.

And in the end, he becomes a moral scapegoat... for the heroes.

What is a moral scapegoat?

A moral scapegoat is (usually) a character used to excuse the actions of other characters or a system. Character A may have done XYZ but Character B was the one manipulating them and/ or is so much worse, so we can excuse A's actions. Or helping defeat B acts as pence for their past actions. Etc. And to a degree it makes sense, getting people to believe a character has changed and should now be considered good both by the characters and the audience is hard. So having some bigger bad to blame takes the pressure off the desired character(s).

While the term is typically only brought up negatively, like the use of Mary&Gary Sues, there are good ones. Commander Zhao in Avatar of the Last Airbender is an early moral scapegoat, used to say yeah Prince Zuko may suck, but there are a lot worse out there. My Little Pony Friendship is Magic has a moral scapegoat, right in the pilot, Nightmare Moon for Princess Luna, sure Nightmare came from Luna but it is presented as a curse, something that was cured, fixed. The Hobbit uses Dragon Sickness as a way to both corrupt and excuse King Thorin's actions when they have retaken the mountain; he is not in his right mind, and shouldn't be considered solely responsible for his actions

In certain ways, Pink Diamond (due to the audience learning her arc in reverse, when it has such an effect on the plot of Steven Universe) is a scapegoat for the remaining Diamonds, even though it makes a lot less sense for her to be the scapegoat when considering the actual sequence of events in universe. And while most people don't think Pink/Rose's actions excuse the Diamonds (especially White), she does work with Spinel. Another rocky moral scapegoat is Horad Prime from She-ra & The Princesses of Power, he is the big bad of the show and is meant to be a scapegoat primarily for Horadak who was the previous big bad, and mildly a scapegoat for Catra. The big problems with his sacrificial slaughter is that there isn't enough time to really settle in that this is the true big bad, and both Horadak and Catra's issues were both way more on screen and show up well before we ever hear of Hoard Prime, with them operating separately.

And All For One is a worst example of all of them (that I mentioned)

For starters the more we saw of him the less ultimate intimidating evil he portrayed, nor did we get a satisfying he was actually pretty pathetic. Really trying to have your cake and eat it too. Looking back he's very cartoonishly evil, but lacks the presence, he's boring. I've seen many good portrayals of him in the fandom, but canon is just boring. His background of miscellaneous evil deeds, don't really go into how they were evil, just that Yoichi (& AFO) clearly believes them to be, both come across as very childish to me, seeing the world as black & white.

He lacks the moral complexity of complex villains (like Magneto), meant to be an ambitiously evil man, whose evil for the sack of being evil. But he lacks the presence found in Classic evil Disney characters like Jafar, Clayton, and Ursala. In a way he's like King Magnifico (from Wish, the only recent hated animated Disney movie, that I agree deserves to be shat on), trying to have both but failing to capture either

In the present, he has little involvement on screen, and once he's out of the picture, Shigaraki (& the League) really bloom as villains and characters. The story could have had a slow realization (for Shigaraki, the League and the audience) that he was holding the League back, and that meant either he was nowhere near as competent as he was portrayed, or he wasn't actually helping Shigaraki, setting up for the body suit plan

But my biggest issue is who he's the sacrificial goat for.

And who is he the scapegoat for? The fucking Heroes and their shit-ass society, including the H PSC crap.

The ending reveal that he was behind everything that happened to Tenko, from him being born, his name, the kids he chose to play with, the issues with his quirk, and only having him; fails. It doesn't work! Mainly because of what that scene ignored the walk, and the complicity of the family. It ignored that the family were directly ignoring that Tenko was being abused, trying to placate him after the fact. It ignores that Kotaro Shimura chose to follow his friends advice, over his wife too. It ignores that even though AFO would have killed anyone who tried to help Tenko, no one tried. It also doesn't make sense either, normal kids are shit actors, not to mention Tenko was the one to reach out to them, not the other way around. And with the sheer amount of heroes, and cops, and regular citizens, how was it literally no one tried to help him, it's not AFO.

What else does it ignore, oh yeah, Tenko isn't truly unique in having a tragic backstory. Sure he was planning on taking advantage of the Endeavor's awful legacy plan, but we never see that AFO has done anything before kidnapping Touya. It's implied that he helped stroked Heteromorphic discrimination for his own gain, but that doesn't change that Spinner had pesticides thrown in his face, by 'innocent' civilians, that Shoji was mutilated as a child, for saving a child, by 'innocent' civilians, that the Ordinary Lady was attacked and denied shelter in the middle of an active warzone, by 'innocent' civilians. Himiko's abuse was enabled and furthered by quirk counselling, we don't even get a he was secretly to blame all along for this one. The commission has assassins, ignore. The homeless have to resort to villainy to survive, ignore. Once someone is considered out they are abused by this society until they have to lash out, ignore. The big bad was taken down, so nothing has to be done about these systemic issues, cause the heroes say so

There's a pattern, he was only able to do this, because the society he was in was already doing it.

And AFO being a moral scapegoat could of worked.

IF the Hero Public Safety Commission was similarly a scapegoat.

To begin, AFO should have been the scapegoat for the League, and the villains as a whole. The heroes would instead have the HPSC as their scapegoat.

Hawks should not have been made president of the totally different PSC, not only is he a known murderer, he doesn't regret it, he has never criticized the Commission's (or any other hero's) actions. If he's not going to see the issues, and hypocrisy right in front of him, he shouldn't have any role at all in it, and a very small one if he does recognize them. Giving this to Hawks screams nothing is actually going to be fixed, any changes are going to be for the worse.

Going into the final Deku vs Shigaraki battle, as well as the dreamscape crap, I had hope in this series. I thought that Deku would finally be forced to have the long over reality check of the Villains are right, what are you going to do about it. So instead of hyper-focusing on one tiny moment that with any and I do mean any additional context would show that it's not just this tiny shit moment. Rather than murdering Tomura for not abandoning the League (the same reason Hawks murdered Twice), have Deku convince Tomura that they can make a better society. That Deku's peaceful(ish) method is what's better for the League we have seen he loves.

From there they could have come up with a deal where either (these are simplified) everyone is held accountable for their past actions (as in the villains, Endeavor, Hawks, the Commission, everyone responsible for the sky coffin, etc). Or the clock is restarted, and everyone is hence forth held to the same standard. The villains are around to make sure the actual issues to their problems are dealt with, hint; Himiko's problem wasn't lack of access to quirk counselling. Happy satisfying ending for everyone

[multi-fandoms-posts]

The Explosive Mission part 2

part 1, last part

X Men Masterlist

The forest clears, and the objective, a hidden underground research facility, comes into view. Y/N, Charles, Erik, Wade, and Logan stand on a small hill, overlooking the building. The tension is palpable, but as always, Y/N can’t resist breaking the tense silence with a cheeky comment.

---

“So, what’s the plan, Charles?” Y/N asks, deliberately leaning in close to Charles so she can feel his warm breath on her skin. “Are you going to take charge and lead us all again? Or should Erik be the one to... lead us this time?”

Erik, who is focused on the facility, glances briefly over his shoulder at Y/N. “You know I’m happy to take charge when necessary.”

“Oh, I know,” Y/N whispers, her eyes sparkling with mischievous delight. “You like being in control. Especially when things get... intense.”

Charles, usually the picture of calm, feels his cheeks flush slightly. He takes a step back, but Y/N doesn’t let up.

“Charles,” Y/N says innocently, “you look tense. Maybe we should take some time for ourselves after the mission. You know, to... relieve the tension.”

Erik grins and lets out a quiet laugh. “I think he could use that.”

Wade, peering through binoculars at the facility, interrupts the moment with his usual loud voice. “Hey, Logan, do you see that over there? I think that’s a spot for just the two of us. Totally secluded, no witnesses... you could finally let out those feelings you’re so desperately trying to suppress.”

Logan growls without even looking. “Wade, stop talking before I shove those binoculars down your throat.”

“Ah, the usual threats. I love it when you get aggressive.” Wade looks over at Y/N. “Y/N, help me out. What’s your secret? How do you manage to deal with two of these guys? Logan here won’t even let me close.”

Y/N laughs and shrugs. “It’s all about chemistry, Wade. You need the right mix of charm, cheekiness, and, well... a little provocation.” Y/N gives Charles and Erik a knowing glance. “Right, guys?”

Charles sighs heavily, but a smile tugs at his lips. “You could say you have a... unique effect on us, Y/N.”

“Oh, unique is exactly the right word,” Erik agrees, his voice deep and dark. “Sometimes you push us to our limits.”

Y/N leans in towards Erik, her lips almost brushing his ear. “I love it when you lose your limits. It makes everything so much... more interesting.”

Wade, watching the conversation with a broad grin, claps his hands. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is exactly the kind of entertainment I’m here for. Drama, romance, and a touch of danger! Logan, maybe we should take a page from this.”

“Shut up, Wade,” Logan growls as he crouches to examine the ground. “I’m trying to come up with a plan while you babble nonsense.”

“Nonsense? I call it the art of seduction, my friend. You could learn something.”

Y/N laughs again and nods at Wade. “Maybe we should hold a little workshop after the mission. ‘Seduction 101’ – Logan could be the first student.”

Erik laughs quietly and shakes his head. “I think Logan has other things on his mind than your tricks, Y/N.”

“Really?” Y/N presses closer to Erik. “I thought my tricks have already convinced quite a few... including you.”

Erik raises an eyebrow and looks at Y/N sidelong. “I’m not as easy to manipulate as you might think.”

“Oh, I know.” Y/N lets her fingers lightly trail over Erik’s arm. “But that just makes it more thrilling, doesn’t it?”

Charles, who usually tries to keep things serious, can’t help but smile. “We should really focus on the mission. I know it’s hard for you, Y/N, but we all need to keep our focus.”

“I’m completely focused,” Y/N replies innocently, though her eyes sparkle with mischief. “I know exactly what I want.”

“And what would that be?” Erik asks with a challenging smile.

Y/N leans back, her eyes moving between Charles and Erik. “That, my dear Magneto, you’ll find out after the mission.”

Wade suddenly jumps in, excitedly waving his hands. “Can I join in? I mean, with whatever you three are planning? Logan can watch!”

“No one is watching anything, Wade,” Logan growls as he turns to give Wade a withering look.

Wade raises his hands and grins. “Okay, okay. But just so you know: I’m always all ears – or more, if you want.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and laughs. “Wade, you’re a walking disaster.”

“I know,” Wade replies proudly. “But a very entertaining disaster.”

Logan snorts and turns back to the facility. “So, what’s the plan? Get in, grab the thing, and get out before one of us loses it?”

“Sounds good,” Charles murmurs, trying to regain his focus. “I can pick up the thoughts of the guards as we get closer. Erik, Y/N, you two stay ready. Wade, Logan, you handle the front security.”

“Sure,” Logan replies, but Wade presses up next to him.

“Oh, partner work! Logan, I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. Finally, just the two of us, united in the fight against evil. Or maybe just against our inner demons?”

“One more word, Wade,” Logan growls as he walks away, “and I’ll show you what my inner demon looks like.”

Wade laughs loudly. “Sounds hot, big guy! Let me feel your darkness.”

Y/N gives Charles and Erik an exaggeratedly innocent look. “Maybe we should also give Logan and Wade a... workshop. They clearly have tensions that need to be resolved.”

Charles smiles. “Maybe after the mission, Y/N.”

Erik grins as he turns back to the facility. “I’m looking forward to it.”

[cemeteryspider]

Haunting Memories

The same universe as: The Shadow's Redemption, you don't need to read it before this fic, but it might be helpful.

Platonic! X-Men x New X-Men! Reader

Nightcrawler! Kurt Wagner x Necromancer! Reader

Summary: Sinister still plagues your conscious and unconscious moments, Jean and Kurt help you regain control over your dreams.

Trigger Warnings: Nightmares, Traumatic Memories, Emotional and Psychological Abuse, Violence, Death (Sort of), Supernatural Elements, and Telepathic Invasion

Word Count: 1556

Your dreams never seemed to be pleasant. Your dreams were a haunting mix of fragmented memories from before Mister Sinister and harrowing nightmares of the years under his control. Sometimes Logan and Storm would stand outside your door while Kurt held you when you cried. When Kurt wasn't availableLogan was a steadfast presence, mentally listing the many ways he'd kill Sinister while Storm held you, offering her shoulder as a safe haven for your tears.

You knew Jean and the Professor knew about your dreams, but they never pressured you into asking for help. You were healing on your own time, and surely you would come to them if you felt you needed to. Except that didn't happen.

~~~

'No need to worry, you're home now,' Sinister stroked your hair as you lay frozen on the mattress on the floor of your old room.

"No," You mumbled, trying desperately to regain control of your limbs, but the harder you tried the more trapped you felt.

'Oh darling, no need to get upset, you know I forgive you for running away, after all, you led me right to my enemies,' He laughed at the look of utter confusion on your face, 'Don't tell me you've forgotten already, here let me show you.'

Sinister's cold hands gripped your face, forcing you to look at the side of the room where the lifeless bodies of your friends lay, 'See no need to worry about anyone trying to take you away.'

You were looking at the lifeless corpses of your friends, of your boyfriend, of people you thought of as siblings. You tried to scream but nothing came out.

Just when things looked to be at their lowest their spirits appeared in front of you.

Wolverine looked at you with such disdain, 'I trusted you, Bub.'

Storm looked down at you with such apathy, 'To think I thought of you as a sister.'

One by one they appeared to berate you. Cyclops and his disgust with you that stayed despite the lack of mind control turned downright cruel, Gambit and his usually friendly demeanor turned angry, and Jubilee, your best friend, looked at you with a hostility you had never seen on her face before today. Still more appeared in front of you Morph, Jean, Magneto, Dazzler, Bishop, Cable,... it just kept going.

Lastly, Kurt appeared in front of you, 'I wish we had never met, Liebling'

Sinister's laugh punctuated your gasping shallow breaths and you squeezed your eyes closed. Still, the laughter continued and the angry comments assaulted your ears.

'See, Professor, we shouldn't have let them in'

'Can't do anything right'

'They're just as bad as he is'

'Useless'

'Cowardly'

You just sobbed through the comments and the laughter hoping that they would end soon.

~~~

'My X-Men, evacuate the children, it is not safe in the mansion at this moment. Jean, Wolverine, Jubilee, I need you here with me,' Your mind was swirling with anguish and thoughts Charles didn't want anyone to see unless completely necessary, and right now it seemed it was.

Your eyes, black voids of despair, unleashed dark tendrils from your mouth and legs, while vengeful spirits gnashed and thrashed, preventing anyone from approaching you and Kurt. He was holding you in his arms, and trying to get you out of whatever trance you were stuck in.

"Professor, what's going on?" Jubilee asked.

"There is no time to explain, Jubilee makes sure nobody comes into this hallway, it is unsafe for the children. Wolverine you are coming with me to Cerebro, you will try to get through to them, and if need be protect me from spirits should they come. Nightcrawler, you get Jean close, and again try to get through to them. Jean, you need to try to get through to them. I will try to break down some of the barriers Sinister put in their mind, and you will put up the scaffolding to keep him out of good."

They all knew their assignments well and soon enough the plan was in motion. Quickly Kurt zapped from his position behind you to grab Jean and get her inside your circle of undead souls.

Jean gently placed her fingertips on your temples, her touch warm and reassuring as she delicately breached the barriers of your mind, something she had been waiting to explore until you gave her permission. However, these were extenuating circumstances.

~~~

Your eyes were shut tight not allowing any of the red-tinged light into your retinas.

'Y/n it's me, Jean. Can you hear me,' You tried desperately to ignore the sound of her voice, you had been fooled by Sinister many times before and you would not be tricked so easily this time around, 'Please, it's me, I'm here to help you.'

They got better with every nightmare you faced. More realistic, more like you remember them. You shut your eyes tighter and tried to keep out these manifestations of your former friends.

‘Kurt’s here,’ Jean’s voice was soft, almost tender. ‘He wants to talk to you, to hold you in his arms.’ That was new, Sinister shouldn't know about Kurt, let alone your relationship with him.

You felt something touch your arm, but it wasn't Sinister. It was more gentle, more caring than he could ever be, 'Liebe, it is me. Truly me. I know you've been fighting these battles alone, but I am here trust me. Let Jean in.'

You opened your eyes, and Sinister was frozen. The person in front of you was Kurt. All of the spirits of your friends had vanished, and all that was left were Jean and Kurt.

You threw yourself into his arms, only realizing after you did it you were able to move again.

"Kurt, please help me, I'm scared and I don't know what to do," The word scared came out of your mouth, but the main feeling you had was rage.

'Trust in Jean, and then you can help yourself,' He held your hand in his as Jean walked over to the two of you.

'You have let me in. I can put supports in place in your mind, and help you block him out. You wouldn't have these nightmares where he is in control of them. Just open your mind,' You leaned further into Kurt and he looked into your eyes.

'She will not hurt you like he has,' You looked into his eyes and saw they were wide with sincerity.

For a brief moment you could see Sinister move you out of the corner of your eye, 'You will never be rid of me, I am in everything you do. Every movement, every thought, and every emotion you have ever and will ever have has me in it.'

You took Jean's hands in yours and closed your eyes. Your shoulders tightened and your toes curled waiting for the cold entrance of a telepath in your mind, but it never came. Instead, Jean's mind felt like a warm summer day.

You felt her drift through different memories you thought you had lost to Mister Sinister. You might not be able to access them now, but just knowing they were there gave you a level of comfort you were scared you would never get back.

She started making walls that shielded your mind. Helped keep unwanted intruders out, and allows your mind to heal. The tension seeped out of your body as Sinister slowly disappeared from the scene.

'You know I will always come back... I made yo....,'

"No, I made me," You grasped his head in your hands, "You just stood in my way."

With a surge of righteous anger, you squeezed until his head disintegrated into a cloud of silver and red dust, a symbolic release of your pent-up rage.

With that, he was gone. Just like that.

'Come back to me, Liebe, wake up'

~~~

You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and allowed them to adjust to the darkness you found yourself in.

"Kurt?"

Something poofed beside you and you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, "You did so well, Liebe, I am so proud of you."

His arms squeezed around you and you could barely manage to speak, "Why's it dark."

"Oh, heh, you may have knocked the power out with how many spirits you were summoning. Also, your darkness was swallowing the light whole."

A warmth spread across your cheeks, "Sorry, bout that."

Kurt cupped your face gently, his eyes full of warmth and relief. 'There’s nothing to be sorry for, Liebe. You’re safe now, and that’s all that matters.'

It took a few minutes for Jubilee, Wolverine, and the professor to enter the room, armed with flashlights and tentative movements. Once seeing you without any spirits to rip apart anyone who came close to you, Jubilee ran towards you. Kurt poofed out of the way of the hug and Jubilee put her arms around your neck.

"Jeez, you scared us! I was so worried about you!," She took this moment to pull away a little and smack you on the shoulder.

"Ow," You said, rubbing the spot on your arm that she barely hit.

"Don't scare us like that again!"

You looked to Jean who was just now getting over to you, "I don't think anything like that will happen anytime soon."

[mandatory-blog-stop-asking]

thinking about Emma Frost again. let's imagine for a second X-Men matters and my opinion must be shared.

When I was a kid I really respected and liked Professor X. I thought his stances on issues were calm and reasonable and I thought his efforts were, while ultimately fruitless, the best ones in the fictional conversation about inclusivity and race and all that. this is a subtle reference to the fact I only watched the cartoon and the movies as a kid.

When I grew older and learned English I started engaging with the comics and realized that oh, turns out the adaptations are superficial at best and fladerizing at worst, and there's a lot more to Charles than Being Correct. He's actually in fact a scathing critique of control and flawed leaders of good faith ideals, and how you're supposed to grow over those who created the words you use to free yourself from tyranny. Professor X is a jerk, Magneto was right, all that.

But over time I realized how much that erases Emma Frost, villain turned voice of reason extraordinaire.

Emma starts her tenure in X-Men as Claremont's personification of everything that is bad with high society, accosted by Sebastian Shaw, which is that but male. Emma is genuinely awful when Claremont writes her; a GOOD awful, on purpose, but she's not supposed to be relatable. She has her own mutant school, her own team of mutants, her own answer to Cerebro. She's the most genuine Evil Xavier we get for a full two decades. and she's great at it! Even if the hellfire club almost always truces with the X-Men for the sake of fighting a more important battle, there's no question that you're not supposed to root for Emma.

And then in the 90s something changes, Claremont goes away for a second, other people approach the character, and the question becomes, why are we treating her like evil Xavier? She's building community. She's giving a voice to the disenfranchised. She's training them and she's caring for them and at no point is she asking of them things they actively disagree with, which can't be said of Charles. And so starts the process most every X-Men villain goes through: humanization, complexity, redemption. And fuck does Emma redeem herself.

Ten years into not being a caricature of high class, Emma has accrued a tragic backstory, several positive projects in canon, renown as a genius, positive relationships to several characters, and a main team spot in a highly acclaimed, influential run as of New X-Men. A whole new generation of readers introduced to Emma, new powers, new MO, new everything. Other characters are changing drastically, usually backwards, to accompany the movie's success -- Magneto is evil again, Jean goes back to being the Phoenix, Charles is a lot more like Captain Picard. But Emma? Emma gets to keep going. She changes things wherever she goes.

She hooks up with Cyclops, her daughters become their new Cerebro, she becomes the new heavy-hitter, the Hellfire Club becomes more Shaw and Shinobi's deal than hers... obviously, this isn't consistent. She's got low points and moments that don't agree to her new character. But this woman, who started as commentary on how the rich will destroy you for fun, is now a key positive portion of the world because at some point in time, she had a point -- Charles *isn't* the end-all-be-all of the matter of teaching young mutants, Erik *isn't* the best way forward as far as mutant armadas go, there *is* nuance to their dualistic conversation, the dichotomy is only enforced because they're loud, but she can be louder, she can be louder than any of them--

And then Krakoa hits. Yes, there's a full ten years of bad X-Men stories, many of them including Emma, at least one of them including Emma genociding a few Inhumans. But then Krakoa hits, and every character gets a new project.

Cyclops? Seeing the world move on in ways he might not approve of. Wolverine? Being happy, and realizing he means to fight to keep it going. Erik? Charles? Apocalypse?? Seeing how strong their "dreams" are when they compromise, and realizing oh, I am willing to do *anything* to keep this going, quite literally anything, there is no crime predicted by man or god that would be beyond my reach if it meant paradise would not be lost.

Emma? Emma keeps doing what she's been doing from the word go. Keep it fabulous. Keep the children safe. Don't fall for the lies. At some point someone will invade your privacy and try to take everything away from you. Your job is not to simply destroy them. Your job is to showcase to them how this too was accounted for.

Emma, alongside her planning, her alliances, her leading of the resistance, her unfathomable internal strength and her willingness to see the world for what it is, won the war for Krakoa. Charles wanted things to stay the way they were, Erik wanted things to be the way he dreamed they could be, Apocalypse wanted things to impress him.

Emma wanted them to be safe and sound. Emma wanted the children to be safe. And when Krakoa rose and left, now fully developed and having outgrown her as well, she picked herself back up and went to train a new generation.

There's always children to keep safe. There's always a new generation. The work is never finished.

Yes, the O5 have their own version of Xavier's dream fulfilled, but Emma is the only one who managed to keep herself genuine while evolving. In a room with religious zealots, war criminals, villains and ancients evils, Emma could always look at Kitty Pryde and think to herself, look at what we're doing, my friend. Look at what we have to work with. We're not saving them from themselves, we're saving everyone they're willing to sacrifice.

I wish those adaptations would make Emma Frost sound like she does to me. She's not just a third option to the Professor X-Magneto dichotomy. She's a person asking why is this a dichotomy in the first place. She's too busy actually caring about people to bother with the bickering.

For the children, they said when they wanted her to join their little utopia. For the children, she sighed back, realizing that if she didn't say it, quite literally no one else would.