#gotta love dadneto

[cathrrrine]

just eat your food and say goodnight.

erik lehnsherr (magneto) x reader, platonic! peter maximoff (quicksilver) x reader • x-men (movies) • fluff, female reader

Summary: Peter Maximoff is a mischievous little shit. Y/N Lehnsherr and her husband Erik love him anyway. AO3

“Well, I’m calling it a night then.”

A content sigh escaped your lips as you stood up from your seat at the dining table and gingerly picked up your own dishes as well as the other empty ones left on the table. Those who noticed thanked you quickly before resuming their respective conversations — like Raven and Charles who were too busy bickering like children — while others made the effort to collect the ones on the other end of the table, namely Hank, Jean and Scott; the latter only doing so after being dragged by his girlfriend.

“Hey, you got an early class too, old man. Can’t risk waking up late with that back of yours.” You gestured to your husband, pointedly looking at him with a smirk on your face. He mirrored your expression, playfully cringing his nose to tease you but it only made you chuckle, a sound that was music to his ears.

“Good night then, everyone.” Erik stood up, following suit behind you, a melody of good night’s responding to him in different tones and variations of the phrase.

“The old man joke doesn’t age well with you, Y/N!”

Although muffled as he said it with a mouth full of food, it was clear enough for you to hear and snap your head towards him. Peter, the beloved speedster, snickered to himself at his own joke. He was too busy shoving chocolate pudding down his throat to notice that a couple of those around him had gone quiet, staring at him with disapproving eyes.

Raven reached over to flick the side of his head and Charles leaned back to give her the leeway, “Dumbass.”

“Ow!”

In your one thousand and thirty-five years of living, it was no surprise that all jokes about your age had grown stale. You hated them, having heard every single phrase on Earth…it was just plain boring to hear them make unoriginal jabs at your age at this point. If they got creative, you wouldn’t mind so much, but after hearing the same variations of the same jokes your whole life? Anyone would be understandably annoyed. Erik knew this, almost everyone at the table did as well. But, you figured it slipped Peter’s mind. It always did.

As he rubbed the side of his head, he stared angrily at the shapeshifter but was met by a pair of equally disappointed eyes that belonged to a certain Professor. A sheepish look fell on Peter’s face when he realised his mistake.

“You should know not to be too casual with your professors.” Charles raised an eyebrow.

Of course, you didn’t take it too seriously, he was a kid that meant no real harm so you didn’t really feel any real anger towards the young speedster, maybe even none at all. But he’s been bothering you too many times lately that it was starting to get on your nerves. So, you put on your Strict Professor Face and stared him down, determined to make him break a sweat at the very least. It probably wouldn’t put a cork in Peter’s attitude, but maybe you’d earn yourself a few weeks off from his incessant clowning.

Erik suppressed the grin that was starting to tug at his cheeks, he knew what you were doing, so he wordlessly took the stack of plates from your grip and continued your task for you. He caught Charles’ eye and they shared a knowing look for a brief moment.

Peter was in trroubleeeee.

“You do know how I feel about those jokes, Maximoff.”

“Funny, right?” He tried to play innocent, nervously smiling at you.

“I’ve told you so many times before that, no, I do not find them funny. We do not share the same sense of humour. Charles is right, you shouldn’t be so casual with me. We may be friends in your mind, but I’m still your professor, and I deserve at least a minimal amount of respect.”

Whew, that made even me sweat. Charles’ voice cackled in your mind.

Peter Maximoff was rarely left speechless, so it was an eighth wonder of the world to have him staring at you with his eyes widened and mouth shut. He gulped, shocked at being scolded by his favourite — although he’d never admit it to anyone — lecturer.

It hurt you too much to leave him that way, though. You were his favourite for a reason…that reason being how gracious you were to his faults that seemed to be never-ending. Relenting, you cracked a smile and used your powers to jolt him out of his daze and confusion. The sound of your chortling hit him with the reality behind the situation.

“Just messing with you, kid. I think you broke your own record for the longest time of being speechless.”

He rolled his eyes and groaned in effort to mask his relief, not wanting to admit she actually did get him back for once. “Unbelievable.”

“Serves you right for always making fun of me. I’m not kidding when I say it’s annoying!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever makes you feel better, grandma.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, “At least I’m not the one with greying hair.”

Peter frowned and opened his mouth, about to fire back a retort but you stopped him by laughing and ruffling his grey strands, “C’mon kid, just eat your food and say goodnight. Careful though, don’t choke.”

Your feet carried you over to your original destination, the intent of loading the dishwasher now appearing at the forefront of tour mind, but it was halted immediately.

As if someone had pushed him forward, Peter sped over to the sink area before you could even turn around, mumbling something about doing the dishes. You glanced curiously at the smiling telepath who simply gave you a shrug in return.

You bid your farewells to everyone again, Peter’s quip of ‘g’night’ not escaping you either when you went to pat him on the back affectionately.

A patiently waiting Erik tugged at your hand, clasping it in his own as he led you out of the kitchen and up the stairs, swinging your hands in tandem with his.

“You think he’s gonna be okay?” You worriedly asked aloud, suddenly very concerned that Peter wasn’t aware you had been joking. The role you played in his life was somewhat maternal, and you didn’t want him to think you were actually being curt with him.

“Who? Peter?” Erik gave you a sideways glance, “That boy’s smarter than he seems, he knows what you were doing. Don’t worry so much, darling. With how fast he moves, I’m sure his mind has moved on to other things by now.”

You hummed in reply, pleased with his answer. “Sometimes I think you might be the resident telepath with how good you are at reading my mind.”

“That’s just called being married to each other, my dear.”

———

“Y/N!” The sound of his sing-song voice was not what alerted you to Peter’s presence, nor was it the sound of his shoes squeaking before he rushed over with his powers, instead, it was the lack of formality. He never called you Professor or anything of the sort.

You never chided him for it, in fact, you’d be lying if you said you preferred the title as a prefix to your name. While many of your students were comfortable addressing you as such, anyone who felt more at ease with calling you by just your name was welcome to do so.

You had a first-year call you Mrs. Lehnsherr back then, when you and your husband were just newlyweds, but Erik was quick to remind them that if they wished to call you by your last name, it was to be Professor Lehnsherr instead, because, in his words, your accomplishments were not to be diminished and should be rightfully addressed.

It led to a whole debacle of mix-ups with two Prof. Lehnsherr’s roaming the hallways, which was a minor problem compared to the confusion of the paperwork.

The days of “Professor Lehnsherr?” “Yes?” “Sorry, not you Professor Lehnsherr, I meant you…Professor Lehnsherr,” had to come to an end, so you settled for whatever it is your students decided to call you…as long as it wasn’t demeaning.

However, no one called you Y/N, just Y/N, but the one and only Peter Maximoff himself.

The young man sped towards you, his hair swaying behind him from the strong gush of wind even as he came to a still in front of you.

“Pete!” You mocked the way he called you, using the same tone.

He gave you a playfully disgruntled look before quickly reaching into his backpack — which looked more like a knapsack, actually — to retrieve a cylindrical object and hand it to you nonchalantly. As soon you wrapped your fingers around it, he sped away again, a quick and impish ‘byeeee’ being the last thing within your earshot before the gush of wind took over your senses again.

It wasn’t until your day ended that you finally had the time to completely relax, stretching your legs and unbuckling your high-waisted, straight-legged pants. You wiggled your toes, sore from being in heels all day, as you relaxed into putty on yours and Erik’s shared bed.

Speaking of the devil — Erik came in not long after, tossing his shoes off and setting his things down on the bench next to your door before throwing himself on the bed next to you, also instantly letting himself relax.

He leaned closer to your side, laying his head on your chest and draping an arm over your stomach. Muscle memory kicked in as your fingers immediately found their way to run through his hair, a familiar habit between the two of you. He closed his eyes as the sweet, heavenly endorphins that came with the satisfaction of your touch washed over his body.

“How was your day?” He mumbled, too lazy to form his words properly.

“Pretty interesting. Finally convinced Logan to come to one of my classes next week. Students have been begging like crazy to meet him.” It was a history project, of which you and the Wolverine were both well-acquainted with, given your ages. “I’m getting the feeling that they think he’s a cooler teacher than I am.”

That made your husband laugh, the sound reverberating as you continued to cradle his head on your chest. “All of the students think Logan is cooler than any of us.”

“It’s not fair, isn’t it?”

“He’s like a mystery, that’s why. Never around long enough to be the one who yells at them for almost burning the school down.” He was talking, but his lips were barely moving and his eyelids were fluttering shut. You smiled softly, trying your best to keep your movements minimal as you continued your ritual to help him sleep.

“Like a cool uncle, then.”

“Yes.” A beat passed, then he spoke again when he remembered what he meant to tell you earlier. “Peter was in my class today.”

“Yeah?” You were slowly falling asleep as well, eyes half lidded and muscles starting to feel limp.

“He spent the whole of it with his head down, though.”

The very image of that made your eyes shoot open, all hints of sleep gone. “Why? What happened?”

It was unlike Peter to be uneventful — he was always doing something , be it throwing spitballs or participating in a one-sided blinking contest with whoever’s teaching in front.

“Nothing.” Erik mumbled groggily. “He was just…working on…something.”

Your skin itched and your eyebrows strained, discomfort firing up every synapse as you went through all the possible reasons. Then, your last interaction dawned on you.

“Honey, I know you’re almost asleep, so can you please hand me my bag on the bench?”

Without saying a word, he raised the arm resting on your body and used his powers to float it towards you, the metal handles clanking together when he dropped it carefully in your grip.

You didn’t have to move your sleeping husband to grab the cylinder you were thinking about, but you did almost startle him when his snores made you lose your grip on the bag.

He didn’t notice, too busy dozing off to even pay attention to what you were currently doing. You quietly unwrapped the roll of paper, barely caring about the sound of it crinkling — you knew your husband could sleep through anything when he was in your arms — since Erik’s snores were louder anyway.

The contents were confusing at first, you had to read it twice to understand that it was a voucher of some sort. With your arm still around Erik’s head, you used what restricted movement you had with your one free arm and just your hand to flip the paper over.

“What is this, Peter?” You mumbled to yourself, reaching for your glasses on the nightstand. Your vision weakened even in your abnormal age, and being far sighted was something you dealt with long before the triple digits hit you.

As if on cue, the answer to your rhetorical question was answered by the scrawling on the back which you recognised as Peter’s boyish handwriting.

‘Sorry for calling you old all the time. You know I’m just kidding. Thank you for always being so cool with me. Hope you like the vouchers for free ice cream. One’s for Erik too. - P.M’

Next to his initials was a doodle of a face with sunglasses on, a two-toothed grin to go with it. It was hard to wipe the pleasant smile off your face, so you kept it on, succumbing to the bubbly feeling. Peter was like a little brother that you couldn’t hate no matter how much you wanted to — you’d even go so far to say he was the son you never had.

You flipped it again, only noticing the name of the store being dairy goods related as you read through it for the third time. It still left you confused, since there was no sign of anything being free printed on it.

That’s when your eyes landed on the italicised font at the very bottom, bold red asterisks between the phrase.

* SENIOR CITIZENS GET 1 FREE CONE . *

Quickly, you turned it around to look at what you thought was an innocent letter written by one seemingly apologetic speedster. You didn’t miss the joke this time, written in very, very emboldened ink, so roughly scratched on the surface you wondered how you missed it in the first place. The smile you had on dimpled into a disbelieving simper.

P.S. HOPE YOU ARE WEARING YOUR GRANDMA GLASSES :D

[fouralignments]

First Class Headcanon

Training with Pietro is the best way to increase your speed and stamina. Pietro can beat everyone and Erik tells everyone he trained with his son to really get into shape. Its like Rocky's chasing the chicken, but with his son.

So, Charles one day decides to race Pietro and Charles wanting Pietro to vary his speeds and focus on control; they do this for hours. This why in the Soviet Union, Charles can so easily follow Erik to the Russian general's mansion.

By the end, Charles is out of breath, sweating, and just exhausted; he takes a nap on the grass and Pietro collapses on his chest and decides to sleep with him. Very cute images all around.

Erik comes to find them with water bottle, pleasantly surprised to find the two of them and thinks I might just pour some water on his head to wake him up. Charles says don't you dare. Erik picks up his sohn and gives Charles a hand to help him up, before handing him water. Erik has gotten a could ice bath ready and afterwards he's going to give him a massage.

[silverzoomies]

I saw the other anon ask about why you added weird accents and kinks and stuff and I wanted to kind of agree I guess. Like they were so right for bringing that up. Personally I’ve seen it a lot too and it doesn’t really seem right, but I’ve been to nervous to say anything because I never wanted to make the writers upset or anything, but now that someone else has brought it up I totally agree.

And this is something that they didn’t bring up but I wanted to. I don’t really mind you’re writing but i’ve noticed that you always swear that Peter would be a fuckboy but he’s also like insecure in the story? Fuckboys aren’t really insecure? And Peter doesn’t really seem like a f-boy to me. I don’t know maybe it’s just a me thing, but he’s always written as a f-boy until he gets with the reader and then he’s like insecure almost and that just doesn’t seem right when talking about Peter. Especially with the whole Dadneto arc, and how Peter is so hellbent on telling Erik he’s his son. I just don’t think a fuckboy would be so insistent on trying to be reunited with his father

THAT...is completely fair !! imma be so honest with you, anon. i understand some readers out there don't seem to like the speech quirks. but i loooove them sm. dont think im gonna stop anytime soon, sorry. ily tho 💗

like the last anon, these are all valid criticisms. if my fics seem super ooc, or inconsistent - for me, that comes with writing smut. because when you're writing filthy stuff, you reeeeallly gotta bend the rules. let's be so real rn, in no universe would quickie get freaky with a zombified reader. he probably wouldn't flirt with a fangirl over a pinball machine just to get laid. nor would he act like the complete jackass i tend to write him as. i don't think he's some sex crazed womanizer in canon. he's probably just a super nice, laid back, but awkward guy with some personal baggage. smut is just for fun, man. im just goofin' around. and if you don't think my goofs line up with his character, that's cool !!

maybe just take a shot at writing him yourself? if you don't like the content that's out there already. if quickie fic on tumblr is giving you "he would not fucking say that" vibes, write your own !! even if you're not a writer, give it a shot !! we are so starved. i'd love to see other interpretations of him please im begging 💗💗💗

[flashflashhundredyarddash]

@joanofarkansass Glad you liked my fic recs! Here are some more marvel + xmen ones:

Catch Me Through the Looking-Glass by ylixia

"It's like a recurring nightmare: Steve Rogers, trapped in a world that is not his own, new love left behind, and nothing to keep him going but questions."

This fic is one of the more popular ones for a damn good reason. A Steve Rogers just reflecting on his relationship with his own Tony AND another Steve and Tony's relationship and getting PISSED the whole time.

Conflict of Interest by NotQuiteHumanAnymore

"Tumblr prompt! alien-angel-orsentientpotato (AKA my firstborn, Cheyenne) asked "Okay so headcanon for x-men evolution. Despite Pietro and Kurt being on separate teams they have a weird understanding of each other as they are both fidgety. Pietro because everything moves so slow and Kurt because he's not used to sitting still or being in one place for long periods of time like school demands. So through this understanding they form a weird pseudo friendship thing in which they race each other, play tag, and see what pranks they can pull on each other without getting caught." And it became this 30k behemoth."

I will be real, I ship Peter/Kurt which is definitely a very rarepair lol, but this fic was very cute! It's based on the xmen evolution cartoon. Even if you don't know much about it, I'd recommend giving this fic a shot!

With a Child's Heart by Scarlet_Ribbons

"“Oh, god.” Steve whispers, sounding as horrified as Tony feels. “You’re so young. Tony, he’s so young.”

Spider-Man coughs once, a frail, baby-bird sound.

.

(They find his body in a Dumpster.)"

:((((( Vry sad but vry good

don't know why it took me so long to see by goodmorningbeloved (3799steps)

"“Oh, watch this,” Natasha says, propping her chin against her knuckles and turning a sweet gaze on him. “Tony, what’s it like dating a superhero?”

Tony bristles in irritation. “We’re not dating,” he snaps. “Captain America probably thinks he can get into anyone’s pants just ‘cause he’s got a mask, costume, and reputation, but not me, buddy. That shield? Gotta be overcompensating for something.” He adds, a bit petulantly, “Oh, and all that blue? Definitely more Steve’s color than his.”

- In which Tony is a genius in all matters except recognizing his boyfriend past a mask."

A true comedy of errors lol. Tony doesn't realize that his boyfriend Steve is Captain America.

Idiot Control Now by @cygnaut

"Hank screws something up in the lab and everyone's powers increase tenfold. Not knowing how to control them like this, they all try to cope and not kill each other by mistake while Hank tries to find a way to reverse the effects. Charles has a particularly hard time of it."

I got distracted and reread this while making this list. VERY funny and also very creative in how their powers could fly out of control without devolving into crack territory. I LOVE cygnaut's fic and got distracted reading a bunch get ready for some more y'all

Adventures in Babysitting by cygnaut

"When Jean, Scott, and Ororo get in trouble and have nowhere to turn, they call on the last person they probably should—Magneto."

DADNETO!! I LOVE the way cygnaut writes the Erik and Ororo relationship, if I ever write xmen fanfic assume Erik is Ororo's dad in it okay I don't make the rules anymore only cygnaut makes the rules.

Blessed is the Match Consumed by cygnaut

""This isn't a concentration camp," Delta says, calm, like he's been rehearsing it. Erik looks at the gun on his hip, the guards behind him in the corridor, the bars between them.

He smiles with a lot of teeth. "I think I'd know that better than you."

AU in which the beach divorce didn't happen and Erik decides to stay and help Charles start his school. But despite their clean break, the government isn't ready to let the mutants disappear into hiding."

A brutal and really well-written fic.

Plausible Deniability by DragonBandit

"Kurt and Peter travel across mutant America to recruit for Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Kurt has a crush. Peter is oblivious."

Another nightsilver fic that I really like!

Clint Barton's Super Secret Snipers' Club by sara_holmes

"Clint Barton's Super Secret Snipers' Club. (Invitation and pending mental health evaluation required.)

"When Steve brings Bucky back to the tower for the first time, Clint’s first thought is that Tony Stark’s pride and joy is quickly becoming a less of a very tall and expensive ‘fuck you’ in the faces of investors who don’t believe in self-sustaining energy, and more of a superhero rehabilitation center."

Boyfriends, compromises and learning to like oneself."

SARA HOLMES WINTERHAWK QUEEN

Way Down We Go by @clarkestetler and @goosenik

"After being attacked and forcibly separated from Eddie Brock, Venom bonds to Peter Parker in order to seek both revenge on the LIFE Foundation and any evidence of his previous host. Peter Parker isn't exactly thrilled about this turn of events and turns to the Avengers for help managing his new symbiote."

I've recently fallen into the Peter/Harry ship and this fic quickly became one of my favorites! Very domestic and sweet but also scary and also Peter having a relatively realistic reaction to suddenly being possessed by an alien tickled me.

Turning Tables by @iamallyetnotatall

"Thanos knows if he leaves Tony Stark alive, that Earth's mightiest defender will find a way to undo all of his hard work.

So when he snaps and wipes away half the universe, he ensures that Tony Stark is one of those that fade to nothing.

I.E - a what-if series of ficlets where Tony is dusted and Peter isn't. HAPPY ENDING GUARANTEED"

Very Good. Pepper and Peter and Morgan family bonding is great.

I Don't Want To Keep A Secret by DOA

"As their senior year begins, Peter Parker and Harry Osborn have a lot to figure out on their own.

Peter has his hands full with his Aunt dating again, college, potential romance, and being superhero with a secret identity that may be more trouble than it's worth. Then Harry, with a troubling father, an uncertain future, possibly unrequited love, a family secret, and an ugly green monster that he has no control over.

But what happens if their separate problems are more related than they think?"

A very cute and plotty Parksborn fic set in the Marvel's Spider-Man universe. It does have first person POV and has been incomplete for over a year which :( but I did enjoy what I read!

There you have it! Half of these fics are kind of Really Popular fics (which are popular for good reason) and fics that just happen to really personally appeal to me lmao

[bluebeirry]

Random perspective/bitching from a Jewish fan on something the Dadneto fandom has been sleeping on

Hey, Dadneto fandom

Instead of hearing about Hannukah as the Big Jewish Holiday for Family, y’know what I wanna see for once?

Passover as the holiday Peter/Pietro and Dadneto celebrate together.

Because Hannukah is mostly important due to everyone getting time off around then, and because Gentiles tend to assume it’s the “Jewish version of Christmas”- it’s not the most important. The biggest holidays are the High Holy days, but the biggest FAMILY-CENTRIC holiday? Passover.

Like, it’s literally part of Passover to get together with as much family and loved ones as you can. Literally. But its in Spring so gentiles usually fail to notice it exists beyond some of us going “Oh no I can’t have pizza this week, sorry” and bringing in funny crackers for lunch. Passover’s halfway through this year and tbh I’m still surprised that so few people in the fandom have picked up on the holiday. I know there’s gentiles in the fandom who do their research and try hard to represent Judaism well, but it’s still kinda jarring to see the holiday specifically about family being ignored in sooo many fanfics about family.

TBF the movies started it first- if I’d had my way, Magneto’s memory-backstory in First-Class would’ve either been Shabbat candles being lit, or a memory of finding the afikomen. Someday I gotta write my idea for a cute raised-by-Erik-AU story of Pietro and Erik meeting up with Magda and Wanda just one night a year, if it’s possibly safe, for a family Seder.

IDK chag sameach y’all

[whumptasticwednesday]

(Semi) Grown-Ass Man - (Peter Maximoff - X-Men: Dark Phoenix)

!!X-MEN DARK PHOENIX SPOILERS!!

Author’s Note: Hey, LividFigureSkatingLover (Ash) here! I hope you enjoyed the fic posted last week that Jimmy uploaded for me. That was actually something I’d written months ago but we felt like it would be an appropriate beginning fic. This, however, is a fresh fic that I started writing the day after Jimmy and I went to see Dark Phoenix on opening night. Needless to say, we were both disappointed with the critical lack of Peter in this movie. Like, you can’t just yeet your fan-favorite character into the sidewalk and have him carried off the jet in a stretcher without acknowledging anything! Anyways, next week will be Jimmy’s week to upload a fic, so you won’t see me for a while, but I can assure you my next fic is in the works. HINT: It’s addressing the critical lack of Dadneto in this film (although after that I think I’ll be done with the Peter fics for now.) Anyways, enjoy the fic! (This fic is also unedited so if you catch any errors, feel free to let me know!)

Word Count: 5749

It had all felt like an instant. One moment, the X-Men were emerging from their jet to bring Jean Grey home, the next, irreversible and horrific destruction. It all ended with Jean soaring into the sky and disappearing into the clouds with a distraught Scott and an angry and grief-ridden Hank on the asphalt. Charles slumped back into his chair and sighed. Nobody could have expected this. The crushed police cars and house smashed like a Popsicle stick craft project were just white noise to the heavy betrayal, anger, grief, and pain filling the atmosphere. The uncanny silence was only broken when Scott angrily shouted,"what the actual fuck are we supposed to do? Jean can't just, she didn't just, she wouldn't ha-"

"Damnit, Scott, can you shut your mouth for two seconds?!" Hank angrily seethed to the laser-eyed man. "You're not the only one standing here in the wake of Jean's unprovoked carnage. I don't think you can even begin to imagine how I feel right now... at least Jean's body isn't sticking out from a protruding wood spire"

Scott, being an impulsive young man, used every ounce of discipline in his reserve and resisted the strong urge to fire up an argument with Hank, and seconds after seeing Raven's impaled corpse, the fiery retort died on his lips, and it was instead replaced by a sudden realization as to the damage Jean had caused, emotionally and physically. The white noise of destruction was now a heavy screaming siren pounding in everyone's ears. Hank needed something to take his mind off of what had happened, losing his unrequited love due to a selfish impulse from one of his lifelong friends was too much for his mind to process at the moment. Since he couldn't do anything else, Hank did what he did best, took a calculated approach to fixing the catastrophe around him.

"We need to find Kurt and Peter. Scott, come help me... please," Hank trailed off as he turned away from Raven's lifeless body. "Charles, do something with her."

The cold and almost robotic tone from Hank was a sharp, almost eerie, contrast from the distraught tears that, only minutes ago, were streaming down his cheeks. Scott's mind, clouded by his own lovesick thoughts, followed Hank's orders on autopilot. Charles remained silent and observant as Scott and Hank trudged to the wooden remnants of Jean's childhood home in search of Kurt and Peter.

After what seemed like hours of precariously moving rubble and assorted wood pieces, Scott saw a mop of black and blue hair under a cracked 4x4.

"Hank, I think I found Kurt," Scott breathed a sigh of relief.

"Be careful, let's get all this off of him," Hank replied.

The two worked carefully and precisely until all of Kurt's body was exposed. His yellow uniform and his face were dusty and covered in grime and a small amount of blood. Hank gently tapped on the mutant teen's face as Scott hovered over his shoulder. Kurt didn't stay unresponsive for long though, and after a few of Hank's prods, he shot up off the floor with Jean's name fresh on his tongue, unaware of what had transpired after he'd been rendered unconscious.

"W-what? Jean, where's Jean? Is everyone okay?" the words fell out faster than Kurt himself could even process, and his mind hadn't quite caught up with the fact that he'd been crushed under the weight of an entire house.

"Kid, slow down. We'll explain later, okay? How do you feel? Do you know where Peter is?" Scott asked, questions firing faster than intended.

"No, I'm sorry. I can help you look for him though. Let me do something, I swear I'm fine." Kurt shot up off the ground, only to stumble into Scott's unprepared arms.

"Take it easy. Jean collapsed a house on top of you, I don't know how great you'll be functioning at the moment," Hank explained as Kurt nodded slowly with an exhausted and pained wince. "Alright, let's go find Peter."

Scott slung the lanky blue mutant's arm over his shoulder to support his weight as the trio began to search for the silver speedster. Since he moved so quickly it was hard to actually determine what Jean even did to Peter, as their confrontation lasted less than seconds to the average person's eye. The only thing Hank and Scott had seen was Peter being catapulted across the street and out of sight, so neither were all too excited to find out as to how he might be faring.

It took some time, but the three eventually stumbled upon Peter's battle-broken body lying slumped against a tree in a thick wooded area dozens of yards away from the street where Jean had wreaked havoc. Trailing his body was a coarse trail of uprooted grass and dirt, emphasizing the power and distance he'd been hurled across. Peter seemed almost as lifeless as Raven, his body heavily slumped against the tree he'd collided  with, blood streaking his X-Men uniform, face, and silver hair, along with dark dirt blotching his sweaty face, which was pulled up into a pained grimace. His signature goggles were loosely strung in his messily kept hair and one of the lenses was very visibly shattered, an ugly spider-like crack pronounced in the center of the lens.

"Oh my god, Peter!" Kurt let out a strangled cry as he laid eyes on his friend. He tried to stop the sobs as each one wracked his battered and sore body, but he couldn't. This was too much for him to bear.

As Kurt's sobs filled the forest, Hank ran his calculative eyes up and down Peter's body as his mind contemplated what would be the best course of action. He didn't want to risk worsening any external or internal injuries by jostling him in a carry to the jet, but he wasn't all too sure what help he could do with Peter out cold in the woods with no real medical assistance or tools around to help. As Scott tried to calm the ever panicked Kurt, Hank gingerly shifted Peter from his half-upright slumped position to lying flat on the ground. He ripped open the top of Peter's X-Men uniform and scanned the damage; bruises as black and blue as Kurt's hair dotted Peter's pale chest and his upper right shoulder. This wasn't going to be fun to deal with. Hank shot his eyes back to Peter's blood-stained face, hoping that tearing off his clothes would at least elicit some sort of response from the boy. Alas, nothing. As the seconds ticked by, Hank devised the one plan that would end in the least harm to all of them.

"Kurt, I know we're far away, I know you're tired, I know you're injured, but I need you to teleport us back to the jet. We can't move Peter like this, it's too risky, he's too badly hurt and I don't want to make this more painful for him than it has to be. You've gotta do this for us, okay?" Hank explained. He knew the kid's power took energy out of everyone he was teleporting, and with the damage eveyone'd sustained from the battle, it would be too dangerous to have Kurt warp multiple times, Peter wouldn't make it, and judging from his hazy eyes, Kurt didn't have enough energy for more than one teleport anyways.

Anxious scenarios began flooding Kurt's mind as his eyes filled with fear, the words he spoke dripping with self-doubt, "W-what if I can't? What if I mess it all u-up and I warp us halfway into a car and kill us all! H-hank, I can't do it."

Instead of coddling the boy like he normally would have, Hank let the dire situation speak for itself when he bluntly stated, "Kurt, I know you're scared, but Peter might die if we can't get him back to the jet. You've gotta take some faith in yourself and your powers and get us home, okay? Don't do it for me, do it for Peter. He needs you to do this for him."

It may have been the stern yet sincere tone of Hank's words, or hearing outright that Peter might die, but Kurt mustered up enough confidence to say, "alright... for Peter."

Hank shifted Peter into his lap as he joined hands with Scott and Kurt. Kurt silently prayed to God that he wouldn't kill all of his friends by pushing his ability's limits in an already weakened state, and with a last tension filled breath, the group disappeared into a dark cloud, appearing, seconds later, in the jet.

Scott felt extremely disoriented after the warp and his eyes raced around the jet before they landed on Hank's face, "shit. That felt weird."

"Indeed," Hank replied.

"I-I did it," Kurt sighed in relief as his eyelids fluttered closed and he collapsed onto the floor.

"Kurt!" Scott exclaimed.

"He's fine, just overexerted himself. He just needs to sleep for a bit and eat. This happened after his fight in Cairo too. Now hurry up and help me with Peter, he's not doing too hot," Hank explained as he set to work.

------

WOW A TIME SKIP...  At Xavier's School in the weird bunker area where they do X-Men stuff...

"He's still not up. You're gonna have to do something, Hank. He's gonna start healing and I don't think that his shoulder is gonna do it properly with the way it looks right now," Scott stated as he stared blankly at Peter's bloody and bruised body on the gurney.

Hank ran his fingers through his hair as he tossed his glasses onto the lab table. He didn't wanna set the joint without Peter being conscious, for fear he'd spring awake and cause himself even more harm if he took an instantaneous flight response. But, if he waited too long, Peter's enhanced healing would work against his favor and heal the crucial joint in the wrong way. He had to make a decision, and although it posed risks, it was better than Peter sustaining lasting joint damage.

Hank was just about to grab the limb to jerk it back into place when Peter shot up from the gurney with a blood-curdling scream of pure agony. Peter's eyes were hazy, confused, and full of pain as they raced around in search of what was going on and why everything hurt so bad. His eyes eventually met Hank's as he collapsed back onto the gurney, heaving heavy pained breaths into his cut and bruised chest.

"Hank, w-whass happenin, wha happened to me? E-everrythin's blurry and hurts," Peter slurred as tears unwillingly escaped the corners of his eyes. Throbbing, pulsing pain coursed through Peter's seemingly small frame as he started to unwillingly cry out of confusion and agonizing pain.

"Peter, you're at the X-Men base under the school. Jean threw you across the street with her powers and you hit a tree. You are safe and you're gonna be okay. I'm gonna help you, okay?" Hank said slowly to the shaken boy. Peter only gave a tiny pained nod as he bit his lip to try and stifle his crying.

"Can't we give him anything to numb the pain, like anesthesia or even ibuprofen? Setting the shoulder is gonna be excruciating for him," Scott asked, just wanting to lessen the agony for Peter.

"That's the thing, though. His fast healing and super speed are paired with an extremely quick metabolism. Anything we could give him in a normal person's dosage, he would burn right through."

"Can't we just give him a higher dosage?"

"If you wanna risk him overdosing, then sure."

Scott cast sympathetic eyes down onto Peter's terrified face, and although hidden by the signature ruby-lensed glasses, were full of sorrow as he fully realized what Jean had done. He felt nothing but pity for the pure fear and pain the boy was feeling. Peter's mind was racing back to when they had to set his broken leg and he didn't want to go through that again. He felt pathetic, a (semi)grown-ass man crying because he had to get a limb set. His sarcastic and dry-humored subconscious internally retorted: grow a pair!

"I'm sorry, Peter. We're gonna have to do this now. Bite this," Hank said as he dangled a rag above Peter's now bleeding lips. Peter grit his teeth and graciously took the cloth as the only thing to provide a semblance of comfort to the undoubted pain he was about to experience. "Alright, Scott, I need you to hold him down in case this goes South..."

Scott nodded in affirmation as he grabbed onto Peter's other arm and hovered above his already pretty immobile body while Hank took one more tentative glance over the silver-haired boy before locking eyes with Scott and clutching Peter's bicep in one hand and his shoulder blade with his other.

"Do you want me to count down?" Hank asked, knowing full well he would count to 3 but snap on 2. Peter nodded as he scrunched up his face with terrified anticipation, a visible layer of shining sweat collecting on his features. "Okay, one, tw-"

The last sound of 'two' was cut off by the cracking of a limb and Peter's howl and wailing cries of pure agony as he thrashed about violently on the gurney as Scott tried his best to gently restrain him without causing any more pain. Fat and ugly tears were freely streaming down Peter's face as the crippling pain in his shoulder coursed through his body and started to dull into an acute ache resonating from the base of his neck all the way down his bicep. His vision was blurred not only by his salty tears but by the waves of pain and adrenaline attempting to cancel each other out like an ocean current crashing into a reef bay. It was all a bit too much for Peter to handle. He went to curl in on himself, a primal instinct to go to the fetal position was shooting to his mind, yet when he tried, every dulled injury in his torso screamed back an affirmative and defiant: no!

Hank had sent Scott to get water bottles when he heard Peter's defeated and miserable whimper, which sent his own head whipping around to face the boy using his left arm to desperately clutch at his raw and tender torso, which was covered in dirt filled cuts and bruises that were attempting to heal over. Like any mutant power, there was a limit, and it was clear that Peter's advanced healing was taking on way more than it was able to handle, so his body's scattered attempts to heal his numerous external and internal injuries weren't doing him any favors besides exhausting him of what little energy he had.

"I'm sorry, Peter, I know you're in a lot of pain right now but I can't do anything for you but stitch up your major cuts and scan you for internal injuries. You know you can't have the regular pain medication," Hank stated, apprehension seeping into his every word as he ran his fingers through Peter's messy and unkempt hair that was now rifled with blood and sweat in an attempt to soothe the boy.

"I-I can't it... my c-chest," Peter stumbled through his attempted sentence, taking hasty and pinched wheezes instead of true breaths between his words. He was past humiliation at this point, any semblance of his normally sarcastic and fun-loving self was covered up by his embarrassment and indescribable pulsating torment wracking his body. Here he was, crying like a toddler while Hank of all people was petting his scalp, what an uncanny situation.

Scott returned moments later with extra towels and an armful of water bottles nestled hastily in his grasp. Much to Peter's dismay, Hank was terrified that Peter might choke if he stayed laying down, so his stitches and internal scan were going to be done upright. The simple shift in the gurney's position further aggravated the mysterious angry irritation in Peter's chest and sent him into a series of dry and forceful coughs, each one racking his exhausted body harder than the last. Peter never thought in a million years that the crack of the plastic seal on a water bottle would be so gratifying, yet here he was, face melting at the opportunity to soothe his parched esophagus and hopefully replenish at least some of his lost energy. Scott took to cleaning out Peter's minor injuries, starting the stitches, and helping him drink, while Hank was running a full body diagnostic on the silver-haired mutant. Peter's mind had slipped into a half-conscious yet fully-feeling feverish state where he wasn't really functioning, yet he knew what was happening. It took every ounce of his strength not to just pass out and sleep. He felt the tense prick of the needle every time Scott went back to further close up a gaping wound and he felt the ever present stare of Hank as he started running all his scans. The only time Peter came out of this hazy half-awake state was to drink that delightful and soothing water. Compared to every other sensory input, the water felt like heaven in the fiery depths of hell. The soothing liquid ran down his arid windpipe and seemed to address his every need, until it hit his stomach and he was met with a discomforted static strain in his abdomen. It was uncomfortable, sure, but didn't seem like it needed to be addressed, so Peter plastered on his bravest face (still kind of failing though) as he lightly furrowed his brow and drew his knees up closer to his chest, despite the protest of his aching (and presumably broken) ribs. Scott noticed, as did Hank, but neither thought too much of it as they continued with their busy work. Again, none of them were prepared as to what would happen next.

Fifteen minutes later, just as the diagnostic's results were finishing up, Peter's slight discomfort had warped into a stabbing and indescribable pain as he was wracked with waves of thick and heavy nausea. Scott was almost done with tying off the last gash on Peter's injured arm when he jerked violently to the side and began projectile vomiting, the only thing arising from Peter's forceful heaving being sticky yellow bile and an alarming mix of blood. Each unproductive heave was followed up by another wave of sickening nausea, which was followed up by another (usually successful) upchuck of fluids. Peter was running out of breath, strength, and stomach contents to empty as he grasped desperately to Scott's arm and his own horribly aggravated abdomen.

"Oh, Peter! Oh my god! Hank, what do I do?!" Scott yelled  frantically as he reached to hold back Peter's long and uncontrolled hair as the latter's body faltered over into another bout of wheezy heaving. Scott, however, was not expecting to have his hand be met with an alarming heat that seemingly radiated off of Peter's forehead. He touched his hands around the rest of Peter's face and his neck during a calm period of the heaving and Hank took the opportunity to hastily place a trashcan between Peter's legs to lessen the contortion his body had to do in order to avoid vomiting his own bodily fluids onto himself. "He's got a bad fever. Is this from th-"

"It's because his body's working too hard to handle everything happening to it," Hank cut him off  "It doesn't know where or when to start or stop and it's confused. He needs fluids to replenish his energy, especially after throwing up every ounce of water you just gave him. We're probably going to have to administer an IV."

The large technologically advanced screen in front of him blinked and beeped, signifying that the diagnostic was finished. At a speed that only Peter could best (at full health), Hank pulled up the imaging and was met with two giant glaring orange marks on an overall blue scan; those being 3 fractured ribs and some sort of internal injury on Peter's stomach lining. Oh my god, Hank thought to himself before nearly shouting to Scott, "He's internally bleeding in his stomach, that's why he vomited. That's why there's so much blood... " Hank took a second to calculate what to do. "We need him hooked up to an IV, NOW. Go get me the supplies."

Scott didn't even nod as he scrambled to his feet and dashed off to find what Hank needed. Peter himself was almost completely unconscious at this point, the high fever , empty reserves of strength, and overwhelming pain from every inch of his body were the perfect trio of unbearable feelings were one stroke away from completely pulling him under a fitful blanket of unconsciousness. He was just about to pass the brink and into the darkness when he felt the abrupt patting of Hank dabbing a soaked rag across his face and the dripping of cool water down his neck. The next thing he felt was the forceful jab in his arm and the strange dull feeling of the unknown slowly overtaking him. His spotted vision gave way to darkness as everything faded away.

"Peter? Damnit, he passed out. It's fine, we just need to keep him stable. I don't know how sustainable this is going to be for him. His body is gonna churn through this fluid faster than a toddler sips a juice box, but it's better than nothing," Hank sighed. And for the first time since Peter had awoken, the room filled with an unsettling complacent silence, the only other thing occupying the space being the exhausted pants from Hank and Scott, accompanied by Peter's tight and wheezy breathing.

------

WOW, ANOTHER TIME SKIP... At relatively the same location we were earlier, but like, a day later...

"Ughh..." Peter groaned. Unlike the previous day's events, though, was brought out less by discomfort, and more from boredom. He fidgeted anxiously with a loose thread on his pants while Hank swapped out his IV for what seemed like the thousandth time between the last 24 hours. "When can I get up and you know" Peter gestured abruptly with his hands "go."

"Give it a few more days, Peter. I know your mind is saying that it wants to get up and run 5 laps around the earth, but your body isn't ready for it. You're still running a temperature, your arm isn't going to be in full shape for a while, you might need physical therapy, the ligaments were pretty screwed up, and I don't want you aggravating your ribs or your stomach just yet," Hank insisted as Peter rolled his eyes. The speedster, despite knowing he wasn't nearly ready to be up and flying across rooms at the speed of sound, wanted to be productive. Part of his motivations for being up and at it was also the fact that he wished to hide his immense shame from the relented sob-fest that was yesterday evening by (like how Peter dealt with most of his problems) running until he couldn't feel his legs or until he couldn't give a damn and cared about nothing except the blurred scenery around him. However, it was hard to do either of those things when you were confined to a gurney in a bunker with an IV drip tethered to one arm and a sling on another.

As Hank left the room,  Peter was met by yet another sickening silence, this time, the only thing filling the room was his growing sense of wanting to be productive and just run, but alas, he couldn't. Having just slept for a sizable amount of the day, Peter was just itching for some entertainment, but being stuck in an empty room with no such objects to scratch that itch, he was growing irritable.

Little did the silver-haired mutant know that another certain lanky teleporting teen was standing right outside the door to his room in the medical bay, working up the courage to rebel against Hank's firm: "no, he needs to sleep" statement that Kurt was met with when he asked if he could go and visit his friend. Not being one to break many rules, Kurt was apprehensive about entering, hence his (kind of silly) minor internal dilemma. Mustering up enough courage, Kurt warped inside the room, where he was met with a "Jesus Christ!" from Peter. Kurt, startled by the shout, stumbled backwards and fell. From his position on the ground, he let out a shy,"hi, Peter. How are you feeling?"

"God, dude, you scared the shit out of me. Give a man a warning before you teleport into his private room where he's being held captive against his will next time!" Peter answered, sarcasm dripping in every syllable.

Kurt, being known to take nearly everything extremely literally, responded,"Has Hank been corrupted!? What has he done to you Peter? Do I need to tell the professor that Hank's gone mad, or is it all one big conspiracy?!"

"Whoa there, chill. As much as I'd like the added spice in life that a Hank-and-Charles-gone-mental plot would provide, I think it's safe to say that they're pretty sane... for now."

"Alrighty then. Well, I've come against Hank's wishes to keep you company, what do you want to do?"

"Hank wants me to suffer and die alone? What a traitor!" Peter grabbed at his chest, feigning heartbreak, wincing as his attempt at humor irritated his cracked ribs.

"I doubt that is true. I believe that the correct term to describe your behavior would be a drama queen."

"You'd be correct, buckaroo. Would you mind zipping to my room and grabbing my Walkman and my GameBoy?"

"Um, no problem," Kurt replied as he disappeared in a dark cloud.

Mere moments later, he reappeared with the music player and the gaming device. Peter eagerly reached out for both devices, acting like a hyperactive toddler who'd just been offered a lollipop. Although, the hyperactive toddler description wasn't too far off from Peter's personality normally. The plastic shells of both items were like comfort food and finally brought some form of distraction besides twiddling his thumbs for hours on ends or watching that 'maybe-speck-of-dust-maybe-spider' dance along the bright walls. He switched on his music and popped in an earbud, offering the other to a tentative looking Kurt.

"Dude, you've gotta try this. Please don't tell me Scott's scared you off from American music with his pansy-ass music," Peter insisted as he spun the earbud with his unslinged hand.

"It's not that... it's just, your music, in particular, has, on several occasions, shaken the entire school," Kurt replied as he took the listening device.

"It's called a 'jam session', Kurt," Peter explained as he used very visible air quotes to emphasize his point.

"Alright, if you insist," Kurt sighed as the guitar rifs and crashing of drums filled his pointed ears. He wasn't the hugest fan of all of Peter's loud rock or the deep heavy beats of Scott's rap, but he sat there regardless to try and enjoy a quiet moment with his friend. Moments like these were becoming harder and harder to come by as their world seemed to get even more hectic. The mutants had assumed that the battle in Cairo would have been the worst of it, it sure felt like it at the time, but now they were facing a new evil, one of their friends. Kurt really wanted to talk to Peter about it, maybe even break the news that Raven died, but he felt too timid, and compared to Peter's bold and audacious personality, he felt like nothing. Peter stopped his headbanging for a moment, and that sliver of time was long enough to notice the semi-uncharacteristic silence from the shy yet friendly Kurt, who was awkwardly staring at Peter's feet, caught in an apparent distracted trance, all headed by the semi-somber and contemplative look plastered on his face. Peter clicked the pause and the cassette stopped rolling. This seemed to snap Kurt out of his trance, and the new silence was quickly filled by Peter.

"You got a toe fetish or something? I mean, I know I'm incredibly sexy, but I didn't know you were into that, Kurt. Jeez!" he teased. Kurt just drew his knees up to his chest and shrunk up his neck to try and hide; whether he was hiding from embarrassment of having a strange sexual trigger or something else on his mind was completely beyond Peter's thoughts.

"You never answered my question..."

"What question?"

"How are you feeling. When we went to try and stop Jean, she crushed me with her house, and I couldn't help at all. I felt useless. It... sucked. And then, Scott and Hank dug me out of the rubble and we went to find you. You looked..." Kurt started choking on his own words, scared he'd start crying. Peter felt a strong urge to make another joke about his 'very undoubtedly sexy' body to finish the sentence, but he wanted to hear him finish. He knew Kurt was going somewhere serious when the German boy used the word: sucked, it didn't seem like something in his vocabulary, much less like a word he'd willingly use unless he really felt like he needed to. "I saw you there, laying on the ground, covered in dirt, bleeding everywhere, with this horrible, agonized expression on your face, just... stuck there. I'm so used to you smirking, laughing, or doing that weird thing where you raise your eyebrows up and down after you are sarcastic or make a joke, and to see you like that, still and sad, I just cried. I was terrified that you were already dead. I've never seen you sit still on your own for more than 5 minutes. Even after the fight in Cairo when you had your entire leg broken and in a cast on crutches, you were still smiling, animated as ever. I don't know how you do it, Peter... you're always so happy. I mean, I try, but I can't help but be..."

"Scared?"

"Yeah." For a few moments, the room was silent, seemingly becoming a common theme, and yet again, it did not last long.

"Hahaha..."

"Peter, are you... laughing?"

"You've got me all wrong, Kurt. I may be an impatient wiseass, but don't get me wrong, I've got plenty of moments in my backlog where I felt like I was gonna piss myself. You were talking about after the Cairo fight?" Kurt nodded "Well, during that fight, I went in, guns a blazin', ready to beat the shit out of this weird edgy blue raisin lookin' guy, yet a few seconds later, I'm getting my arm twisted way further than it's supposed to and my leg getting completely fucked up. In that moment, I was sure I was going to die. Had it not been for Raven and Erik, I probably would have."

Kurt gnawed his bottom lip and curled further in on himself at the mention of Raven. Peter didn't know. He doubted Hank would have brought up his resented heartbreak to the seemingly immature speedster. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell him; Would the timing be appropriate? Would he be able to handle the weight of the loss? Peter'd even said that Raven had been a massive inspiration to him when he was younger on the jet where they had their first real conversation. It'd be hard to swallow the pill that one of your friends had been possessed and just murdered your childhood hero while recovering from blunt trauma. It all made Kurt's head spin and ultimately, he decided against it.

"Sorry to get all deep and edgy on ya. I didn't want you waltzing around screeching about my fearlessness or something, I don't know." Peter shrugged as best as he could before whipping out his GameBoy and waving it in Kurt's face.

"Umm, I don't understand what this is. It looks like a plastic box. Does this one also play music?"

"Naw, this is one of those cool new things from Japan. It's a handheld gaming device."

"Oh. So it's like the large arcade machines... but smaller?"

"Yeah, it's pretty bangin'. I've got Super Mario Land in the slot now, wanna try?"

"Yes!" Kurt took the device from Peter and was about to dive in when he tentatively asked "Umm, Peter? What is the objective?"

"You get the tiny man with the hat from the left to the right and eventually you'll find a lady and win. I guess even minuscule pixelated dudes need a babe," Peter joked. However, Kurt was already encapsulated in the tiny, unlit screen, a little beep going off every time he made the character jump. Peter watched with amusement as he resumed his mixtape with one earbud in, the other listening to the whirring air conditioner and the GameBoy's clacking buttons.

Content with his friend's newfound excitement and ease of mind, Peter felt his eyelids growing heavy and his breaths growing slower and deeper without any conscious feeling of pain with the intake of oxygen. And finally, without any thoughts of his dislocated shoulder, unsolved father-related problems, or his red-haired, newly space-fart-possessed, destruction causing friend, he drifted off to sleep with a content, comfortable, and very quicksilver-y smirk plastered on his face

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Just gotta send out love to the Dadneto & Quickson community, we look out for one another.

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1, 11, 19

Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

Gotta admit that one-shots are bread and butter. Its been awhile since I've written a multi-chapter fic and completed it like 8 years ago, but that was back in high school. Its basically have to retrain myself, its a learning curve. Not something I'm used to yet.

Link your three favorite fics right now

This one is so funny. Oblivious Dadneto is oblivious.

What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

Parent Erik Lehnsherr

But of course why wouldn't it be? Dadneto is my shit. I love it so damn much.